Should it let the "punishment" alter its behavior this time? The Acceptor considered.
It decided to ignore the "pain." Let them cajole and shout. The Acceptor was enthralled by the angry voices that churned below, and listened with all its might.
105 ::: The Skiff
"What the devil… ?"
Dennie was rolled off the dry-shelf to splash into the water below. Sah'ot squawked in confusion as the tiny ship's hold tipped.
Then, in addition to the physical tossing, a rolling wave and psychic discomfort began to fill their heads. Dennie coughed water and grabbed a wall stanchion. She wanted to cover her ears.
"Not again," she moaned. She tried to use the techniques Toshio had taught her…focusing on her heartbeat to drive out the grinding static in her head. She hardly even noticed when Sah'ot shouted, "It'sss them!"
The fin pressed the hatch button with his beak and sped out into the hallway. He streaked into the tiny control room.
"Creideiki!" he began, forgetting for a moment that the captain could not understand him. "It's them. The voices from below!"
Creideiki looked back at him, and Sah'ot realized that the captain already knew. In fact, he seemed hardly surprised. Creideiki crooned a soft melody of acceptance. He appeared content.
From the pilot's station, Keepiru announced, "I'm getting neutrinos and anti-g flux! They're coming from dead ahead. A small ship taking off."
Hikahi nodded. "Probably Takkata-Jim. I hope Gillian's right that he's been taken care of."
They continued to drive underwater toward the east. About a half-hour later, Keepiru shouted again. "More anti-g! A big ship! Taking off from near to the southwest!"
Creideiki's flukes struck the surface of the water.
* Up, up!
Up and Look!
* Look! :
Hikahi nodded to Keepiru. "Take her up."
The skiff surfaced. Seawater slid in sheets off the ports.
They clustered around a southern port and watched as a distant wedge-shaped object erupted from the horizon, and lumbered into the sky, slowly gathering speed. They watched as it flew south, passing the speed of sound, finally disappearing into the high clouds.
They watched even after Streaker's contrail began to drift and slowly come apart under Kithrup's contrary winds.
PART TEN
Rapture
"They are the lads that always live before the wind."
106 ::: Toshio
Toshio swam hard as the swell tried to drag him backward. He fought the current and strove for the open sea. Finally, just as he felt his aching arms and legs could do no more, he reached calmer waters. With burning lungs he turned and watched as the metal-mound, now almost two kilometers away, sank slowly into its pit.
The sinking couldn't go on. The drill-tree had not completed its excavations when he and Dennie had blown it apart. The island would probably settle until the shaft was plugged.
Dull detonations groaned on all sides of him. Toshio treaded water and looked around. On islands in all directions trees swayed, and not from the wind. In the distance he saw at least three roiling clouds of steam and smoke rise from boiling patches in the sea. There was a growling of subsea quakes.
All this because of one little bomb? In spite of all he had been through,. Toshio calmly wondered about the cause of it all. There was nothing left to do but choose the manner of his dying. He felt queerly liberated.
What if the bomb released a vein of magma, Toshio wondered. If a volcano appeared anywhere, I'd think it would be in that drill-tree shaft. But I guess the island's plugging it.
The metal-mound that had been his home for two weeks seemed to have stopped sinking. A few treetops waved above the water.
Toshio wondered about the fate of Charles Dart. He couldn't imagine the chimpanzee swimming very far. Perhaps it was just as well. At least Charlie had had a clean exit.
Toshio felt a bit better having rested. He began swimming again, for the open sea.
About twenty minutes later there came another low rumbling. He turned around just in time to see the distant mound rocked by a terrific explosion. Dirt and vegetation flew in all directions. The mound itself heaved upward, almost out of the water, split apart, then fell back into a cloud of steam.
"Calling battle fleet! Calling the battle fleet ahead! This is Lieutenant Takkata-Jim of the Terragens Survey Service. I wish to negotiate! Please ressspond!"
The receiver was silent. Takkata-Jim cursed. The radio must work. He had taken it from Thomas Orley's sled, and that human always maintained his equipment! Why weren't the Galactics answering?
The longboat was designed to be run by more than one person. The sudden and unexpected disaster at the island had forced him to abandon his Stenos. Now he had no one to help him. He had to juggle two or three jobs at once.
He watched the tactics display. A cluster of yellow lights were heading his way from Galactic north. It was a paltry flotilla compared with the great armadas that had come sweeping into the system only weeks ago. But it was still an awesome array of firepower. They were heading right for him.
Elsewhere, all was chaos. The planet was pockmarked with energy releases — boiling steam tornadoes where volcanoes emptied into the sea. And above the planet's northern hemisphere a free-for-all battle was going on.
Takkata-Jim increased the scale on his display and saw another fleet. It, too, had just started turning toward him.
The ether was filled with a roar of voices. AM, FM, PCM — every spot on the dial took part in the confusion. Could that explain why nobody seemed to hear him?
No. The Galactics had sophisticated computers. It had to be his own equipment. There had been no time to check it all before taking off.
Takkata-Jim nervously watched the map.
He was flying into a pod of tiger sharks, hoping to negotiate Streaker's protection and eventual release. But he remembered the look on Gillian Baskin's face, a week before, when he had suggested giving the ETs everything they wanted. Metz had supported him then, but the expression on the woman's face came to mind now. She had looked at him pityingly and told him that fanatics never worked that way.
"They'll take all we have, thank us politely, and then boil us in oil," she had commented.
Takkata-Jim tossed his head. I don't believe it. Besides, anything is better than what she plans!
He watched the tactics holo. The first fleet was only a hundred thousand klicks away, now. The computer gave him data on the ships, at last. They were Soro battlecruisers.
Soro! Takkata-Jim tasted bile from his first stomach. All the stories he had heard about them came to mind.
What if they shoot first? What if they're not even interested in prisoners? He looked at his own battle controls. The armament of the longboat was pitiful, but…
A claw of his harness reached over to flick on the arming switch… just for the small comfort it gave.
108 ::: Streaker
"Now both of the larger fleets turn toward Takkata-Jim!" Gillian nodded. "Keep me informed, Wattaceti." She turned. "Tsh't, how long can we stay hidden by these tectonic disturbances?"
"Our anti-g's been detectable for five minutess, Gillian. I don't think we can put off energy detection much longer by flying over volcanoes. If we're to make a break for it we've got to gain altitude."
"We're being scanned at long range!" the detector operator snapped. "A couple of ships from that battle over Orley's position are curiousss!"