light. Lots of…” Toshio stopped wrapping his air hose. He stared for a moment, trying to remember.
“Hikahi,” he said slowly. “I think Akkia called me during the fight with the weed. Did you get anything over your set?”
“No I didn’t, Toshio. But remember, we fins aren’t yet so good at abstract thought while fighting. T-try to recall what he said, please.”
Toshio touched his forehead. The encounter with the weed wasn’t something he wanted to think about, right now. It all blended in with his nightmare, a jumbling of colors and noises and confusion.
“I think … I think he said something about wanting us to keep radio silence and come home … something about a space battle going on?”
Hikahi let out a whistling moan and flipped out of the water in a backward dive. She was back immediately, tail churning.
* Close-up
Lock-up
* Go the other way—than up!
Sloppy Trinary. There were nuances in Primal Dolphin which Toshio, of course, couldn’t understand. But they sent a thrill down his spine. Hikahi was the last fin he would ever have expected to slip into Primal. As he finished wrapping his air hose, he realized with chagrin what his failure to tell Hikahi earlier might have cost them all.
He slapped his faceplate shut and flopped over to press the buoyancy valve on the sled, checking simultaneously the telltales on his helmet rim. He ran through the pre-dive checklist with a rapidity only a fourth-generation Calafian colonist could have achieved.
The bow of the sled was sinking quickly as the sea erupted to his right. Seven dolphins breached in a spume of water and exhaled breath.
“S-s-sassia’s tied to your stern, Toshio. Can you shake your leg?” Keepiru urged. “Now is no time to dawdle making up’t-t-tunes!”
Toshio grimaced. How could Keepiru have fought so hard earlier to save the life of someone he ridiculed so?
He remembered the way Keepiru had torn into the weed, the desperate look in his eye, and the glow it had taken when he saw it. Yet now he was cruel and taunting as ever.
A sharp blast of light flashed in the east, searing the sky all around them. The fins squealed almost as one, and immediately dove—all except Keepiru, who stayed beside Toshio—as the eastern cloudline spat fire into the afternoon sky.
The sled finally sank, but in the last instant Toshio and Keepiru saw a hurtling battle of giants.
A huge, arrowhead-shaped space vessel plummeted down on them, pitted and fiery. Wind-swept trailers of purple smoke boiled out of great gashes in its sides, to be flung back into the needle-narrow shock front of its supersonic flight. The shock wave warped even the shimmer of the great ship’s defensive shields, shells of gravity and plasma that sparkled with unhealthful overload.
Two grapnel-shaped destroyers dogged it no more than four ship lengths behind. Beams of accelerated anti-matter flashed from each of the trefoils, hitting their mark twice in terrible explosions.
Toshio was five meters below the surface when the sonic boom hit. It slammed the sled over, and kept it tumbling amid a roar that sounded like a house caving in. The water was a churning maelstrom of bubbles and bodies.
As he struggled with the sled, Toshio thanked Infinity he hadn’t been at the surface to hear the battle passing by. At Morgran they had seen ships die. But never this close.
The noise finally settled down to a long, loud growling. Toshio got the sled righted at last.
Ssassia’s sad corpse still lay tied to the rear end of the sled. The other fins, too scared or prudent to go above, began taking turns at the small airdomes that lined the bottom rim of the sled. It was Toshio’s job to keep the sled still. It wasn’t easy in the churning water, but he did it without a thought.
They were near the sloping western edge of a huge, grayish metal-mound. Sea-plants grew at intervals along its side. They looked nothing like the strangle weed, but that was no guarantee.
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“Hikahi,” he said slowly. “I think Akkia called me during the fight with the weed. Did you get anything over your set?”
“No I didn’t, Toshio. But remember, we fins aren’t yet so good at abstract thought while fighting. T-try to recall what he said, please.”
Toshio touched his forehead. The encounter with the weed wasn’t something he wanted to think about, right now. It all blended in with his nightmare, a jumbling of colors and noises and confusion.
“I think … I think he said something about wanting us to keep radio silence and come home … something about a space battle going on?”
Hikahi let out a whistling moan and flipped out of the water in a backward dive. She was back immediately, tail churning.
* Close-up
Lock-up
* Go the other way—than up!
Sloppy Trinary. There were nuances in Primal Dolphin which Toshio, of course, couldn’t understand. But they sent a thrill down his spine. Hikahi was the last fin he would ever have expected to slip into Primal. As he finished wrapping his air hose, he realized with chagrin what his failure to tell Hikahi earlier might have cost them all.
He slapped his faceplate shut and flopped over to press the buoyancy valve on the sled, checking simultaneously the telltales on his helmet rim. He ran through the pre-dive checklist with a rapidity only a fourth-generation Calafian colonist could have achieved.
The bow of the sled was sinking quickly as the sea erupted to his right. Seven dolphins breached in a spume of water and exhaled breath.
“S-s-sassia’s tied to your stern, Toshio. Can you shake your leg?” Keepiru urged. “Now is no time to dawdle making up’t-t-tunes!”
Toshio grimaced. How could Keepiru have fought so hard earlier to save the life of someone he ridiculed so?
He remembered the way Keepiru had torn into the weed, the desperate look in his eye, and the glow it had taken when he saw it. Yet now he was cruel and taunting as ever.
A sharp blast of light flashed in the east, searing the sky all around them. The fins squealed almost as one, and immediately dove—all except Keepiru, who stayed beside Toshio—as the eastern cloudline spat fire into the afternoon sky.
The sled finally sank, but in the last instant Toshio and Keepiru saw a hurtling battle of giants.
A huge, arrowhead-shaped space vessel plummeted down on them, pitted and fiery. Wind-swept trailers of purple smoke boiled out of great gashes in its sides, to be flung back into the needle-narrow shock front of its supersonic flight. The shock wave warped even the shimmer of the great ship’s defensive shields, shells of gravity and plasma that sparkled with unhealthful overload.
Two grapnel-shaped destroyers dogged it no more than four ship lengths behind. Beams of accelerated anti-matter flashed from each of the trefoils, hitting their mark twice in terrible explosions.
Toshio was five meters below the surface when the sonic boom hit. It slammed the sled over, and kept it tumbling amid a roar that sounded like a house caving in. The water was a churning maelstrom of bubbles and bodies.
As he struggled with the sled, Toshio thanked Infinity he hadn’t been at the surface to hear the battle passing by. At Morgran they had seen ships die. But never this close.
The noise finally settled down to a long, loud growling. Toshio got the sled righted at last.
Ssassia’s sad corpse still lay tied to the rear end of the sled. The other fins, too scared or prudent to go above, began taking turns at the small airdomes that lined the bottom rim of the sled. It was Toshio’s job to keep the sled still. It wasn’t easy in the churning water, but he did it without a thought.
They were near the sloping western edge of a huge, grayish metal-mound. Sea-plants grew at intervals along its side. They looked nothing like the strangle weed, but that was no guarantee.
More
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