Margaret St. Clair by The Dolphins of Altair

can catch the knob between two of my fingers and pull on it. I can pull fairly hard with my fingers. I can pull the fins off a fish with them.”
    “Why can’t Djuna dive with the activated mine in her mouth?” Lawrence demanded cr itically.
    “It would cut down her escape time too much. When the dolphins go down their maximum depth, they have to do it slowly. No, Amtor is the one.”
    Moonlight was obviously right. “Very well,” Lawrence agreed stiffly. “But why must you go with them, Madelaine? One person riding a dolphin can escape observation more easily than two can. Your going with them doubles the risk.”
    “Oh, yes. But I had better go with them. I feel sure of it.”
    “Precognition?” the doctor asked keenly, forgetting his annoya nce.
    “I suppose so. Anyhow, I’d better go with them.”
    “Very well,” Dr. Lawrence repeated. “Since Amtor is going with you, you had better start a little early, say about seven o’clock.”
    He seemed to think that Madelaine would object to this suggestion also, but she nodded agreeably. “All right. Sven, have we enough canned food for supper? I ‘m getting hungry.”
    “I don’t remember what we have. Let’s go see.” Sven picked up the mine from the sand and put it inside his jacket. He and Madelaine walked away together.
    It was time for us sea people to be thinking about supper, too. The others were already swimming awa y from Noonday Rock. As I started after them, I turned to look at Dr. Lawrence. I could not see his expression. His head was, inclined thoughtfully. He was still holding his briefcase by the handle.
    -
    We left the Rock a little before seven Sunday mornin g. Dr. Lawrence held up his hand to us in salute as we left. The eternal briefcase was still in his other hand.
    It was a fine morning. I think we all were happy. Madelaine was radiant, and Sven looked almost as happy as she did. As for us sea people, if we hadn’t been carrying passengers, we would have leaped from the water in our joy over and over again.
    Madelaine was riding Ivry, a cousin of mine, and Sven sat on Djuna’s back. I carried nobody, but of course it was planned that I should take my turn w hen the other two got tired. Sven had a package of food inside his jacket, next to the mine, and Moonlight was wearing Dr. Lawrence’s canteen on a strap around her neck. It was rather slender equipment for people who were setting out to produce a major ea r thquake, but we hoped it would be enough.
    As the morning wore on, Madelaine’s euphoria seemed to wane. I thought at first that she was getting tired”—the Splits say that riding one of us for more than a few hours is exhausting, because they cannot change position —and then that she must be depressed by the thought of all the destruction we were going to cause. She told me later that it was neither of these, but a cloud of foreboding that had settled over her. Some peril lay ahead of us, and she could not g uess what it might be.
    We were swimming well out from shore, to avoid being seen, but about noon we put in to a little cove, quite deserted, and let our passengers off to stretch their legs and eat the food they had brought with them. Then we resumed our journey down the coast.
    We got to Benthis Canyon about five. This was good; it meant I would have time for an exploratory dive before I went down with the bomb.
    We sea people are good divers. We can go down almost as far as a Split can in a diving suit, and of course we can descend and come up considerably more quickly. The sun was low, but I thought I should be able to see as much as was necessary. Our vision is excellent —I have heard a Split who dissected a number of us say that the dolphin eye was “an anatomical marvel”—and we have other quasi-visual senses besides.
    I dived. There is no use in my trying to describe what a dolphin sees when it dives. The sea pe ople know what it is like already, and Splits are not yet ready to understand. But when I