“My group is happy enough with the present. Makakai’s facility with the waldo-whale proves that the current generation can use machines.”
Jacob sighed. “If you’re hoping these results will persuade the Confederacy to cancel the next generation of mutations, don’t count on it. They’re running scared. They don’t want to have to rely forever on poetry and music to prove that dolphins are intelligent. They want a race of analytical tool users, and giving codewords to activate a rocket waldo just won’t qualify. Twenty to one Manfred gets to cut.”
Gloria reddened. “Cutting! They’re people, a people with a beautiful dream. We’ll carve them into engineers and lose a race of poets!”
Jacob put down the crust of his sandwich. He brushed crumbs away from his chest. Already, he regretted having said anything.
“I know, I know. I wish things could go a little slower, too. But look at it this way. Maybe the fins’ll be able to put the Whale-Dream into words someday. We won’t need trinary to discuss the weather, or Aborigine-pidgin to talk philosophy. They’ll be able to join the chimps, thumbing their metaphorical noses at the Galactics while we put on an act of being dignified adults.”
“But…”
Jacob raised his hand to cut her off. “Can we discuss this later? I’d like to stretch out for a little while, and then go down and visit with our girl.”
Gloria frowned for a moment,, then smiled openly. “I’m sorry, Jacob. You must really be tired. But at least today, finally, everything worked.”
Jacob allowed himself to return her grin. On his broad face the toothy smile brought out lines around his mouth and eyes.
“Yes,” he said, rising to his feet. “Today everything worked.”
“Oh by the way, while you were down, there was a call for you. It was an Eatee! Johnny was so excited about it that he barely remembered to take a message. I think it’s around here somewhere.”
She pushed aside the lunch dishes and plucked up a slip of paper. She handed it to him.
Jacob’s bushy eyebrows knotted together as he looked down at the message. His skin was taut and dark from a mixture of ancestry and exposure to sun and saltwater. The brown eyes tended to narrow to fine slits when he concentrated. He brought a calloused hand to the side of his hooked, amerind nose and struggled with the radio operator’s handwriting.
“I guess we all knew that you worked with Eatees,” Gloria said. “But I sure didn’t expect to get one on the horn out here! Especially one that looks like a giant broccoli sprout and talks like a Minister of Protocol!”
Jacob’s head jerked up.
“A Kanten called? Here? Did he leave his name?”
“It should be down there. Is that what it was? A Kanten? I’m afraid I don’t know my aliens that well. I’d recognize a Cynthian or a Tymbrimi, but this one was new to me.”
“Um… I’m going to have to call somebody. I’ll clean up the dishes later so don’t you touch them! Tell Manfred and Johnny I’ll be down in a little while to visit with Makakai. And thanks again.” He smiled and touched her shoulder lightly, but as he turned his expression quickly relapsed to one of worried preoccupation.
He passed on through the forward hatch, clutching the message. Gloria looked after him for a moment She picked up the data charts and wished she knew what it would take to hold the man’s interest for more than an hour, or a night.
Jacob’s cabin was barely a closet with a narrow fold-down bunk, but it offered enough privacy. He pulled his portable teli out of a cabinet near the door and set it on the bunk.
There was no reason to assume that Fagin had called for any other purpose than to be sociable. He had, after all, a deep interest in the work with dolphins.
There had been a few times, though, when the alien’s messages had led to nothing but trouble. Jacob considered not returning the Kanten’s call.
After a moment’s hesitation, he punched out a code on the face of the teli and settled back to compose himself. When he came right- down to it, he couldn’t resist an opportunity to talk with an E.T., anywhere, anytime.
A line of binary flashed on the screen, giving the location of the portable unit he was calling. The Baja E.T. Reserve. Makes sense, Jacob thought. That’s where the Library is. There was the standard warning against contact with aliens by Probationary Personalities. Jacob looked away with distaste. Bright points of static filled the space above the blankets and in front of the screen, and then Fagin stood, en-replica, a few inches away.
The E.T. did look somewhat like a giant sprout of broccoli. Rounded blue and green shoots formed symmetrical, spherical balls of growth around a gnarled, striated trunk. Here and there tiny crystalline flakes tipped a few of the branches, forming a cluster near the top around an invisible blowhole.
The foliage swayed and the crystals near the top tinkled from the passage of air the creature exhaled.
“Hello, Jacob,” Fagin’s voice came tinnily out of midair. “I greet you with gladness and gratitude and with the austere lack of formality upon which you so frequently and forcefully insist.”
Jacob fought back a laugh. Fagin reminded him of an ancient Mandarin, as much for the fluting quality of his accent as for the convoluted protocol he used with even his closest human friends.
“I greet you, Friend-Fagin, and wish you well with all respect. And now that that’s over, and before you say even a word, the answer is no.”
The crystals tinkled softly. “Jacob! You are so young and yet so perspicacious! I admire your insight and ability to divine my purpose in calling you I”
Jacob shook his head.
“Neither flattery nor thickly veiled sarcasm, Fagin; I insist on speaking colloquial English with you because it’s the only way I have a chance of avoiding getting screwed whenever I deal with you. And you know very well what I’m talking about!”
The alien shook, giving a parody of a shrug.
“Ah, Jacob, I must bow to your will and use the highly esteemed honesty of which your species should be so proud. It is true that there is a slight favor for which I had the temerity to ask. But now that you have given me your answer… based no doubt on certain past unpleasant occurrences, most of which nevertheless turned out for the best… I shall simply drop the subject.
“Would it be possible to inquire how your work with the proud Client species ‘porpoise’ proceeds?”
“Uh, yes, the work is going very well. We had a breakthrough today.”
“That is excellent, I am certain that it could not have happened without your intervention. I heard that your work there was indispensable!”
Jacob shook his head to clear it. Somehow Fagin had taken the initiative again.
“Well, it’s true I was able to help out early on with the Water-Sphinx problem, but since then my part hasn’t been all that special. Hell, anyone could have done what I’ve been doing here lately.”
“Oh, that is something that I find very hard to believe!” Jacob frowned. Unfortunately it was true. And from now on the work here at the Center for Uplift would be even more routine.
A hundred experts, some more qualified in porp-psych than he, were waiting to step in. The Center would probably keep him on, partly out of gratitude, but did he really want to stay? Much as he loved dolphins and the sea, he’d found himself more and more restless lately.
“Fagin, I’m sorry I was so rude at first. I’d like to hear what you called me about… provided you understand that the answer is still probably no.”