''Do you usually have this kind of crowd?''
''No, I suspect it's the company I'm keeping.''
By the time they got to the reef, most of the company had departed for their own fishing grounds or gone back to the beach. Afa showed Kris how to throw a net and collect the fish it caught. ''Watch out for the ones with nettles.'' Kris did.
The fish around the reef were small to medium. Kris was ready to toss away the small ones. ''Don't. We'll use them for bait. Ever tasted smaki smaki?''
''No. What are they?''
''They're big, about the size of an Earth tuna, and tasty. Thought I'd bring one of them home for the elders.''
''Or maybe to impress the star girl?'' Kris muttered.
''Maybe. They school out beyond the reef in the deep. Game for some real fishing?'' he said, picking up a hooked line.
NELLY, HOW STRONG'S YOUR SIGNAL?
I AM PATCHED INTO THE SATELLITE NET. I SHOULD BE GOOD.
Kris smiled. ''I'm good if you are.''
Two more throws, and Afa pronounced them with enough bait and enough yellowtail. As they paddled for the passage through the reef, he called to another canoe and passed them a net with their edible catch. ''You're not going after smaki smaki, are you?'' the guy in the other canoe asked.
''Why not?'' Kris asked.
''You're like to catch a shark as a smaki.''
''Shark?''
''We won't drop our hooks until I find a school of smaki,'' Afa grumbled. ''I know better than that.''
The other fellow handed Kris a knife as he took her net of fish. ''Cut your line loose if it looks like you hooked something other than smaki.''
''Thanks.'' Kris checked the bottom of the boat. Afa had a knife, but it was at his end, not hers. ''Thank you very much.''
''You'll probably be fine,'' the other guy assured her. ''Afa's almost as good a fisherman as he thinks he is.''
Kris eyed the passage. Waves three to four meters tall were cresting as the tide went out. It was going to be a rough row even without breaking surf in the passage. Afa rigged a small sail to take advantage of the wind at their backs and they paddled quickly through the passage to the calmer water outside.
Kris couldn't count the hours she'd spent on the sailboat on the lake as a kid. But none of those hours counted against what she faced now. This open ocean heaved, raising her a good three meters up where she could see Nui Nui and another island off ahead of them, then plunged to where all she could see was blue water all around her… oh, and a patch of blue sky above.
She'd never been seasick in her life. Never spacesick. But she found herself entering into negotiations with her tummy about there being a first time for everything.
''I will not be seasick,'' Kris ordered.
YOU TALKING TO ME?
NO.
WELL, IF YOU WERE, I'D TELL YOU THAT ABBY STASHED A SMALL COLLECTION OF SEASICK PATCHES IN YOUR BELLY POUCH. Kris checked, found four, and applied one under her swimsuit. A moment later she felt better.
''You okay?'' Afa asked, a bit later.
''Just fine. Where's that school of fish?'' she countered.
''And why ain't I using some high-tech gadget to find them? I would if I was working for the Marine Census, but today, I'm fishing, and it doesn't seem fair to use all those gadgets. All they're doing is trying to make a living, just like me.''
''That's one way of looking at it,'' Kris said.
''But not the way they taught you in school.''
''I didn't say that.''
''I doubt your university was any different than mine.''
''University,'' Kris echoed.
''Ikamalohi University has the best marine conservation program in human space. I had classmates from Wardhaven.''
''That doesn't surprise me. We're only just starting to take our oceans seriously.''
''Big mistake. You let the trawlers mess them up, and you'll be a long time getting your seas back right. There's a reason why I hand-built my own dugout outrigger canoe for fishing.''
Kris looked it over. She could see the chisel marks, but not a lot of them. The walls were tall and even, the bottom smooth. The bamboo outrig was lashed down tight with some sort of rattan lacing. The whole rig was doing a good job of give and take as it bobbed around in the open sea.
''It looks shipshape,'' she answered.
''Making a dugout was easy. Now our culture. That was hard. All we had to go on was some novels or sociology books written by pale skins who talked to our people, and we knew some of what they wrote had to be tall tales they'd been fed. Still, that was what we were about, and maybe some of those tall tales were worth giving a try. We sure had lived the life of you pale skins long enough, so we came here, and we've lived our way, and no one is going to take that away from me.'' He was scowling at her by the time he finished his speech.
Kris showed her open hands. ''I'm not trying to take anything away from you. My great-grampa thinks it would be good if Hikila joined his United Sentients, but that's your call.''
Afa chuckled as he adjusted the steering paddle. ''Sorry. Things like last night really get to me.''
''I was the one who stopped it, remember?''
''Yes, and I thank you. I know my sister and grandmama are grateful for what you did. We owe you, and it seems the fish also admit their debt to you. See, they come.'' He pointed.
Two hundred yards out it looked like the ocean was being rained on. But the sky was blue. As Afa changed the set of his sail and aimed for there, Kris studied it. Yep, there, a small fish broke surface. Then another. ''What is it?''
''Those are the tiny fish the smaki smaki feed on. Where they are, there's smaki. Start baiting the hooks.'' Kris had fished before and knew it involved putting small living things on hooks so you could catch bigger living things, but someone else usually baited the hooks. Kris held her breath, captured a small fish from the bait net alongside, and jammed a hook through its wiggling belly. It quit wiggling.
''That's not the way to do it,'' Afa said, smiling.
So Kris took the steering paddle to let Afa do the honors. As he settled her at the helm, his hand stroked her arm. ''You're wearing that strange thing you wore last night.''
''A different one. Super Spider Silk body stocking. Can stop a four-millimeter dart and most other things assassins may throw my way.''
Afa glanced at the sun overhead. ''You're going to burn.''
''Also is good for SPF thirty sunblock. I'm protected.''
As he moved forward to bait the hooks, he muttered something about being very well protected. Kris let it pass.
They reached the roiled water about the time Afa had the first line ready to go over the side. He tossed it, played out some line, then held down the stick with the line on it with his foot while he brought down the sail. Then, transferring the stick to his teeth, he baited a line for Kris. She took it and tossed it over the side, let it play out about thirty, forty meters, then glanced at Afa. ''So now we wait?''
''The fish are moving a bit to windward,'' he answered. ''Let's paddle up that way.'' He put the line between his teeth and paddled. Kris could only imagine what Mother would say if she saw her doing that, but Kris did the same. There, they settled back to drifting again.
After a while, Kris got the feeling her line was awful slack and started pulling it in. ''Don't do that,'' Afa said.
Kris weighed her options and chose to ignore the guy. Good thing; only a head dangled from her hook. ''Any chance your fish have gone to college, too?''
Afa snorted at her joke and rebaited her hook.
A couple of minutes later, he hauled his in and reloaded its bait. ''They are showing off for a star walker. Never did this for me,'' he assured her.
As time passed, Kris began to wonder how long this could go on. No wonder the others skipped this kind of fishing. Again they rebaited their hooks and moved the canoe upwind. Kris tried staring into the blue sea. She easily spotted the tiny silvery forms that darted here and there, disturbing the surface of the water. There were other larger shadows moving among them, deeper down. Big and thin and round. Would the darts from her automatic reach them? Then something long and dark and missile-shaped shot by, and one of the other things came apart.