Startide Rising

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!"

"That's it, then," Tsh't commented. "We go for it."

Gillian shook her head.

"Buy me five more minutes, Tsh't. I don't care about the stragglers up north. Keep me hidden from the main fleets just a little while longer!"

Tsh't whirled through the oxywater, leaving a trail of bubbles. "Lucky Kaa! Steer south by southwest, toward that new volcano!"

Gillian stared intently at the display. A tiny blue speck showed the longboat, flying toward a mass of over thirty much larger dots.

"Come on, Takkata-Jim," Gillian murmured to herself. "I thought I had you figured out. Prove me right!"

There hadn't been a sound on the radio from the renegade lieutenant. Toshio must have done his job, and sabotaged the sets on the island.

The blue speck drew within one hundred thousand kilometers of the enemy.,

"Telemetry! Takkata-Jim's armed his weaponsss!" Wattaceti announced.

Gillian nodded. I knew it. The fellow's almost human. He'd have to have a stronger personality than I'd ever expected, not to do that, just for the security-blanket effect. As pointless as it seemed, who would go to face an enemy with his safeties on?

Now, just a little closer…

"Gillian!" The detector officer cried. "I don't believe it-t! Takkata-Jim hasss…"

Gillian smiled, a little sadly.

"Let me guess. Our brave vice-captain is firing on the entire battle fleet."

Tsh't and Wattaceti turned to look at her, wide-eyed. She shrugged. "Come now. For all his faults, no one ever said Takkata-Jim wasn't brave."

She grinned to hide her own nervousness. "Get ready, everybody."

Takkata-Jim shrieked and grabbed at the toggle switch. It didn't work! The fire controls were activating without his orders!

Every few seconds a shudder passed through the little ship as a small seeker missile launched from the single torpedo tube. Small bursts of antimatter erupted from the longboat's nose, automatically aimed at the nearest alien vessel.

In a lucky shot, the lead Soro ship blossomed open like a fiery flower unfolding. The sheer surprise of the attack had overcome defenses designed to withstand nova heat.

He cursed and tried the override. It, too, had no effect.

As the Soro fleet began firing in return, Takkata-Jim wailed and swerved the little scout into a wild series of evasive maneuvers. With a dolphin's natural three-dimensional sense, he whirled off in a high-g gyration, threading salvos that passed chillingly close.

There was only one thing to do, only one possible source of succor. Takkata-Jim sent the scout streaking toward the second battle fleet. They must have witnessed his attack. They would think him an ally, if he survived long enough to reach them.

He sped out into space, chased by a herd of behemoths that turned and lumbered after him.

110 ::: Streaker

"Now, Gillian?"

"Almost, dear. Another minute."

"Those shipsss from the north seem to have decided. Several of them are turning this way… Correction, the whole skirmish is heading southward, toward usss!"

Gillian couldn't make herself feel too bad about drawing fire away from Tom's position. It was only returning his favor, after all.

"All right. You choose a trajectory. I want to head out east on the ecliptic, just as soon as that second fleet finishes turning toward the longboat."

Tsh't warbled an impatient sigh. "Aye, sir." She swam to the pilot's position and conferred with Lucky Kaa.

He raised his head above the surface of the pool where he had taken refuge.

Where had everybody gone, all of a sudden?

Minutes ago the sky had been ablaze with pyrotechnics. Burning ships were falling out of the sky, right and left. Now he caught sight of a few stragglers, high in the distant sky, speeding southward.

It took him a moment to come up with a guess.

Thanks, Jill, he thought. Now give 'em hell for me.

112 ::: Takkata-Jim

Takkata-Jim spluttered in frustration. He was so busy there wasn't time to work on the fire controls. Desperate, he sent impulses shutting down whole blocks of computer memory. Finally, something worked. The weapons system turned off:

Frantically, he made the ship roll left and applied full thrust to escape a spread of torpedoes.

The two fleets were coming together quickly, with him in between.

Takkata-Jim intended to dive into the second fleet and stop behind it, conveying by his actions what he couldn't say by radio, that he was seeking protection.

But the controls wouldn't respond! He couldn't correct from his last evasive maneuver! He must have shut down too much memory!

The longboat streaked outward at right angles to the converging fleets, away from both of them.

Both fleets turned to follow.

"Now!" she said.

The pilot needed no urging. He had already been adding momentum. Now he applied full power. Streakers engines roared and she left the atmosphere on a crackling trail of ionization. The acceleration could be felt even through stasis, even inside the fluid-filled bridge.

The gray sea disappeared under a white blanket of clouds. The horizon became a curve, then an arc. Streaker fell outward into an ocean of stars.

"They're following us. The skirmishers from up north."

"How many?"

"About twenty." Tsh't listened to her neural link for a moment. "They're strung out. Except for a fairly big group at the rear, hardly any two of them seem to be of the same race. I hear shooting. They're fighting each other even as they chase us."

"How many in that final bunch?"

"Um… ssssix, I think."

"Well, let's see what we can do when we stretch our legs." The planet fell behind them as Lucky Kaa sent Streaker accelerating in the direction Gillian had chosen.

Beyond Kithrup's horizon, a great battle had begun. Her path kept her hidden by the planet's bulk for several minutes. Then they came into view of the conflagration.

A million kilometers away, space was filled with bright explosions and hackle-raising shrieks that feebly penetrated the psi-screens.

Tsh't commented. "The big boys are fighting over Takkata-Jim. We might even make it out of the system before the major fleets could catch up with usss."

Gillian nodded. Toshio's sacrifice had not been in vain.

"Then our problem is these little guys on our tail. Somehow we've got to shake them off. Maybe we can do a dodge behind the gas giant planet. How long until we can get to it?"

"It's hard to judge, Gillian. Maybe an hour. We can't use overdrive in system, and we're carrying a lot of excess mass."

Tsh't listened to her link, concentrating. "The ones on our tail have mostly stopped beating on each other. They may be damaged, but I think at least two of the lead ships will catch up with us about the time we reach the gasss giant."

Gillian looked at the holo tank. Kithrup had shrunk into a tiny ball in one corner, a sparkle of battle beyond it. On this side a chain of small dots showed Streaker's pursuers.

In the forward tank a shining pastel-striped globe began to grow. A huge world of frigid gas, looking much like Jupiter, swelled slowly but perceptibly.

Gillian pursed her lips and whistled softly. "Well, if we can't outrun them I guess we'll have to try an ambush."

Tsh't stared at her. "Gillian, those are battleships! We're only an overweight Snark-class survey ship!"

Gillian grinned. "This snark has become a boojum, girl. The Thennanin shell will do more than just slow us down. And we may be able to try something they'll never expect."

She didn't mention that, given a chance, she wanted to hang around this system a while, in case of a miracle.

"Have all loose objects been secured?"

"Sstandard procedure. It's been done."

"Good. Please order all crew out of the central bay. They're to strap themselves in wherever they can."

Tsh't gave the order, then turned back with a questioning look.

Gillian explained. "We're slow because we're overweight, right? They'll be shooting at us before we reach the cover of the gas giant, let alone overdrive range. Tell me, Tsh't, what's making us overweight?"

"The Thennanin shell!"

"And? What else?"

Tsh't looked puzzled.

Gillian hinted with a riddle.

* Living touch

The substance of motion -

* Like air, forgotten

Until it's gone! *

Tsh't stared blankly. Then she got it. Her eyes widened. "Pretty tricky, yesss. It just might work, at that. Still, I'm glad you told me. The crew are going to want to wear the right apparel."

Gillian tried to snap her fingers in the water, and failed. "Spacesuits! You're right! Tsh't, what would I do without you!"

114 ::: Galactics

"The side battle amongst all the remnant forces seems to have moved away from the planet," a Paha warrior reported. "They are streaming away from Kithrup, chasing a rather large vessel."

The Soro, Krat, finished paring a ling-plum. She fought to hide the nervous tremor in her left arm.

"Can you identify the one they pursue?"

"It does not appear to be the quarry."

The Paha tastefully ignored the fleet-mistress's obvious wave of relief on hearing this. "It is too large to be the Earth ship. We have tentatively identified it as a crippled Thennanin, although… "

"Yes?" Krat asked archly.

The Paha hesitated. "It behaves strangely. It is inordinately massive, and its motors seem to have a quasi-Tymbrimi tone. It is already too far to read clearly."

Krat grunted. "What is our status?"

"The Tandu parallel us, sniping at our flanks as we do theirs. We both chase the Earth scout. Both of us have ceased firing at the boat except when it gets too close to the other side."

Krat growled. "This vessel leads us farther and farther from the planet — from the true quarry. Have you contemplated a scoutship whose very purpose may have been to accomplish this?" she snapped.

The Paha considered, then nodded. "Yes, Fleet-Mother. It would be just like a Tymbrimi or wolfling trick. What do you suggest?" '

Krat was filled with frustration. It had to be a trick! Yet she couldn't abandon the chase, or the Tandu would capture the scoutship. And the longer the chase went on, the worse the attrition on both sides!

She threw the plum across the room. It splattered dead center on the rayed spiral glyph of the Library. A startled Pil jumped and squeaked in dismay, then glared at her insolently.

"Transmit Standard Truce Call Three," Krat commanded with distaste. "Contact the Tandu Stalker. We must put an end to this farce and get back to the planet at once!"

The Tandu Stalker asked the Trainer one more time. "Can you arouse the Acceptor?"

The Trainer knelt before the Stalker, offering its own head. "I cannot. It has entered an orgasmic state. It is over-stimulated. Operant manipulation does not achieve success."

"Then we have no meta-physical way to investigate the strange chase behind us?"

"We do not. We can only use physical means."

The Stalker's legs ratcheted. "Go and remove your head. With your last volition, place it in my trophy rack."

The Trainer rasped assent.

"May the new one I grow serve you better."

"Indeed. But first," the Stalker suggested, "arrange to open a talk-line with the Soro. I shall sever the leg I use to talk with them, of course. But talk to them we now must."

Buoult bit at his elbow spikes, then used them to preen his ridgecrest. He had guessed correctly! He had taken the last six Thennanin ships out of the battle between the Tandu and Soro, and arrived at the planet in time to join a long chase. Ten ragged ships were ahead of him, chasing an object that could only dimly be made out.

"More speed," he urged. "The others are uncoordinated. While the Tandu and Soro chase a ruse, we are the only fair-sized squadron in the vicinity! We must chase!"

Far ahead of the Thennanin, a Gubru captain ruffled its feathers and cackled.

"We catch up! We catch up with the lumbering thing! And look! Now that we are near, look and see that its emanations are human! They fly inside a shell, but now we are near and can look and see and catch that which is inside that shell!

"Now we are near, and will catch them!"

Failure was still possible, of course. But total defeat would be unpermissible.

"If we cannot catch them," it reminded itself, "then we must make certain to destroy them."

115 ::: Streaker

The gas giant loomed ahead. The heavily laden Streaker lumbered toward it.

"They'll expect us to dive in close for a tight hyperbolic," Tsh't commented. "It's generally a good tactic when being chased in a planetary system. A quick thrusst while we're swinging near the planet can translate into a major shift in direction."

Gillian nodded. "That's what they'll expect, but that's not what we'll do."

They watched the screens as three large blips grew and then took form as solid figures — ships with ugly battle-scars and uglier weapons.

The great bulk of the planet began to intrude even as the pursuing ships grew larger.

"Are all fen secured?"

"Yesss!"

"Then you choose the time, Lieutenant. You have a better feel for space battles than I. You know what we want to do."

Tsh't clapped her jaws together. "I do, Gillian."

They dove toward the planet.

"Sssoon. Soon they'll be committed…" Tsh't's eyes narrowed. She concentrated on sound images, transmitted by her neural link. The bridge was silent except for the nervous clicking of dolphin sonar. Gillian was reminded of tense situations on human ships, when half the crew would be whistling through their teeth without ever being aware of it.

"Get-t ready," Tsh't told the engineering crew by intercom.

The pursuing ships disappeared briefly behind the planet's limb.

"Now!" she cried for Suessi to hear. "Open the rear locks! Activate all pumps!" She swung to the pilot. "Launch that decoy probe! Hard lateral acceleration! Apply stasis to compensate all but one g rearward! Repeat, allow one gravity rearward in the ship!"

Half the control boards in the bridge sprouted red light. Forewarned, the crew overrode safeguards as the contents of Streaker's central bay flew out behind her into the vacuum of open space.

The Gubru captain was concerned with a Pthaca ship encroaching on its lead. The commander contemplated maneuvers to destroy the Pthaca, but the master computer suddenly squawked frantically for attention.

"They have not done that!" the captain chanted as it stared in disbelief at the display. "They cannot have done such a thing. They cannot have found such a devilish trap. They cannot have…"

It watched the Pthaca ship collide at a large fraction of light speed with a barrier that had not been there minutes before.

It was only a diffuse stream of gas particles, drifting in their path. But, unexpected, it met the Pthaca warship's screens like a solid wall. At a fair fraction of light speed, any barrier was deadly.

"Veer off " the Gubru commanded. "Fire all weapons on the quarry!"

Fiery energy lanced out, but the beams stuck an intangible wall between the Gubru and the rapidly turning Earth ship.

"Water!" it shrieked as it read the spectral report. "A barrier of water vapor! A civilized race could not have found such a trick in the Library! A civilized race could not have stooped so low! A civilized race would not have…"

It screamed as the Gubru ship hit a cloud of drifting snowflakes.

Lightened by megatonnes, Streaker screamed about in an arc far tighter than she could have managed minutes before. Her locks closed, and the ship slowly refilled with air. Internal anti-gravity was reapplied. Her spacesuited crewfen flew back to their duty stations from the hull rooms where they had taken refuge.

In the still water-filled bridge, Gillian watched the annihilation of the first two pursuing vessels. The crew cheered as the third battered cruiser swerved desperately, then suffered a malfunction at the last moment, and collided disastrously with the diffuse cloud. It dissolved into a flat ball of plasma.

"The rest of them are still out of sight beyond the gas giant," Gillian said. "After the chase from Kithrup, they'll think they know our dynamic, and never guess we could turn around like this!"

Tsh't looked less certain. "Perhapsss. We did fire off a decoy probe along our old flight path, mimicking our radiation. They may chase it.

"At least I'd be willing to bet they'll come in on a tight and fast hyperbolic-c."

"And we'll pick 'em off as they come!" Gillian felt a little giddy. There was just a chance they might be able to do it cleanly, so cleanly that they might be able to lie low, to wait a little longer for Hikahi and Creideiki. For another miracle.

Streaker groaned as she fought to change direction.

"Suessi says the wall braces are under stresss," Lucky Kaa reported. "He asks if you're going to be turning off stasis again, or pulling any other… uh, he calls them 'wild, crazy, female maneuvers.' His words, sssir!"

Gillian gave no answer. Suessi certainly didn't expect one.

Streaker completed her sharp turn and sped back the way she had come, just as two more battle cruisers came into view around the limb of the gas giant.

"Get 'em, Tsh't," Gillian told the dolphin officer. An outrage she had not allowed to show in weeks of frustration came out in her voice. "Use your own tactics. But get them!"

"Yesss!" Tsh't noted Gillian's balled fists. She felt it too. "Now!"

She whirled and called to the crew.

* Patiently,

We took the insults —

* Patiently,

Evil intent —

* Now we stop,

Patient no longer —

* Dream and logic,

Join in combat!!

The bridge crew cheered. Streaker dove toward the surprised foe.

116 ::: Galactics

The voice of the Soro matriarch growled out of the communications web. "Then we are in agreement to stop this chase and join our forces?"

The Tandu Stalker promised itself it would remove two legs, not one, for the shame of making this agreement.

"Yes," it replied. "If we continue in the present manner, we will only erode ourselves down to nothing. You Soro fight well, for vermin. Let us unite and end it."

Krat made it explicit. "We swear by Pact Number One, the oldest and most binding to be found in the Library, to capture the Earthlings together, to extract the information together, and to seek out together the emissaries of our ancestors, to let them be the judges of our dispute."

"Agreed," the Tandu assented. "Now let us finish here and turn about together to seize the prize."

He now understood what humans meant by a "Nantucket sleighride."

Takkata-Jim was tired. He had fled for what seemed like hours. Every time he tried to make the boat drift to one side, so he could surrender to one party, the other side fired salvos between him and his goal, forcing him back.

Then, some time ago, he detected a long chain of ships leaving Kithrup in the other direction. It didn't take much to figure out that Streaker was making her move.

It's over, then, he thought. I tried to do my duty as I saw it, and save my own life at the same time. Now the die is cast. My plan is lost.

I'm lost. There's nothing I can do except, maybe, buy Streaker a few minutes.

Some time ago the two fleets had stopped tearing at each other as they chased him. Takkata-Jim realized they were coming to an agreement.

Suddenly his receiver buzzed with a basic contact code in Galactic One. The message was simple… stop and surrender to the combined Tandu-Soro fleet.

Takkata-Jim, clapped his jaws together. He hadn't a transmitter, so he couldn't respond. But if he stopped dead in space they would probably take that as a surrender.

He delayed until the message had been repeated three times. Then he began decreasing speed… but slowly. Very slowly, drawing out the time.

When the Galactics had drawn close, and their threats began to sound final, Takkata-Jim sighed and turned the longboat's fire-control computers back on.

The boat bucked as small missiles leaped away. He applied full thrust again.

When both flotillas simultaneously fired volleys of missiles at him, he tried to evade, of course. It would be unsporting to give up.

But he didn't have the heart for a major effort. Instead, while he waited, he worked on a poem.

* The saddest of things

To a dolphin — even me—

Is to die alone… *

118 ::: Streaker

The ambush at the gas giant was unexpected. The enemy came in close, using the great planet's gravity to swing about in a tight hyperbolic turn. They were unprepared for an attack on their flanks.

Compared with their breakneck dive, Streaker was almost motionless. She fell upon the pair of cruisers as they passed, lacing a web-like tracery of antimatter in their paths.

One of the battleships blossomed into a fireball before Streaker's computers could even identify it. Its screens were probably already damaged after weeks of battle.

The other cruiser was in better shape. Its screens flashed an ominous violet, and thin lines of exploding metal brightened its hull. But it passed through the trap and began decelerating furiously.

"It'll misss our mines, worse luck," Tsh't announced. "There wasn't time to lay a perfect pattern."

"We can't have everything," Gillian replied. "You handled that brilliantly. He'll be some time getting back to us." Tsh't peered at the screen and listened to her neural link. "He may be very tardy, if his engines keep missssing. He's on a collision spiral with the planet!"

"Goody. Let's leave him and see about the others."

Streaker's motion was taking her away from the giant planet, toward another group of five onrushing cruisers. Having witnessed part of the ambush, these were all adjusting course furiously.

"Now we see how well the Trojan Seahorse works," Gillian said. "The first bunch was close enough to read our engines and know we're Earth-made. But these guys were too far back. Has Suessi altered our power output along Thennanin lines, as planned?"

Wattaceti whistled confirmation. "It's done. Suesssi says it'll cut efficiency, though. He reminds you that our engines aren't Thennanin."

"Thank him for me. Now, for all our lives, what happens next depends on whether they're an unimaginative lot, as Tom guessed they'd be.

"Full power to the psi shields!"

"Aye, sssir!"

Energy detectors lit up as the oncoming ships swept them with probe-beams. The motley assortment of approaching ET vessels seemed to hesitate, then diverged.

"Numbers one, four, and five are accelerating to pass us by!" Tsh't announced. The bridge was filled with chattering dolphin applause.

"What about the others?"

Tsh't's manipulator arm pointed to two dots in the holotank. "Decelerating and preparing for battle! We're picking up a beam-cast in Galactic Ten! It's a ritual challenge!"

Tsh't shook her head. "They do think we're Thennanin! But they want to stop and finish us off!"

"Who are they?"

"Brothers of the Night!"

The magnification screens showed the two approaching battlewagons, dark and deadly and growing nearer.

What to do? Gillian kept her face impassive. She knew the fen were watching her.

We can't outrun them, especially not while we're faking Thennanin engines or wearing this heavy Thennanin shell.

But only a fool would try to take them in a straight battle. A fighting fool like Tom, she thought ironically. Or Creideiki. If either of them were in command I'd be preparing condolence wreaths for the Brothers of the Night right now.

" Gillian?" Tsh't asked nervously.

Gillian shook herself. Now. Decide now!

She looked at the approaching death machines.

"Down their throats,' she said. "Head toward Kithrup."

119 ::: Galactics

"We shall leave half of our joint fleet above the planet. None of the others will dare return, now that we have consolidated. We shall also send squadrons to clean the moons of hiding enemies, and to investigate the happenings out beyond the gas giant."

The Tandu Stalker had only four legs now, instead of the former six. The Soro Krat, wondered what accident had befallen the leader of her unpleasant allies.

Not that it really mattered. Krat dreamt of the day when she could personally detach the Stalker's remaining limbs, and then all its head buds.

"Is it possible that that out-planet chaos may be caused by the quarry?" she asked.

The Tandu's expression was unreadable on the display screen. "All things are possible, even the impossible." It sounded like a Tandu truism. "But the quarry could not escape even the stragglers' small might. If they are captured by them, the remnants will fight over the spoils. When our task force arrives, we will take over. It is simple."

Krat nodded. It did sound elegant.

Soon, she told herself. Soon we will wring the information out of the Earthlings, or sift it out of their wreckage. And soon thereafter we will be before our ancestors themselves.

I must try to make certain some few of the humans and dolphins are left alive, after they tell us where the Progenitor Fleet is located. My clients do not appreciate it when I use them for entertainment. It would save trouble if I found amusements outside the family.

Wistfully, she longed for a scrappy male of her own species as a joint Tandu-Soro detachment of thirteen ships blasted at full thrust toward the gas-giant planet.

"Damage to the stasis flanges on the port ssside!" Wattaceti announced. "All missile slots in that sector are out!"

"Any harm to the inner hull?" Gillian asked anxiously.

The fin looked blank as he sounded out the damage control computer. "Nope. The Thennanin shell's taken it all, ssso far. But Suessi says the bracings are weakening!"

"They'll try to concentrate fire on the port side now that it'ss damaged," Tsh't said. "And they'll expect us to turn away. Starboard missile batteries! Fire mines at forty degrees azimuth by one hundred south! Slow thrust and lurk fuses!"

"But-t no one's there!"

"They will be! Fire! Helm, roll ship left two radians per minute, pitch up one per minute!"

Streaker shuddered and groaned as she turned slowly in space. Her screens flickered dangerously under powerful battle beams she could never hope to match. Not a blow had been struck on her opponents. They kept up easily with her lumbering attempts at evasion.

From Streaker's shadowed quarter six small missiles puffed lazily outward, then cut thrust. Streaker turned to try to protect her weakened side, a little more slowly than she was really capable of turning.

Sensing a fatal weakness, the enemy battleships followed the turn. Beams stabbed out to blast at Streaker's damaged side, at what the Brothers of the Night thought was their supine enemy's real hull.

Streaker shook as the beams penetrated her shields and struck the Thennanin armor. Stasis flickered, giving them all eerily vivid feelings of deja-vu. Even in the water-filled bridge the blasts nearly threw the crew from their stations. Damage control spotters screamed reports of smoke and fire, of melting armor and buckling walls.

The cruisers drifted confidently into the mined region, and the missiles exploded.

Gillian clutched a handrail whitely. On those sensors that had not been blasted to vapor, the enemy was hidden by a cloud of roiling gas.

"Hard thrussst, twenty degrees by two seventy!" Tsh't called. "Stop roll and pitch!"

The abused engines struggled. The bracings holding Streaker to her armored shell groaned as she accelerated in a new direction.

"Blessings on that damned Thennanin armor!" One of the fins sighed. "Those beams would've sliced Streaker like toasssst!"

Gillian peered into one of the few operational holotanks, straining to see through the space-smoke and debris. Finally, she saw the enemy.

"A hit! A palpable hit!" she exulted.

One of the battlewagons bore a gaping hole in its side, burning metal still curled away from the cavity, and secondary explosions shook the cruiser.

The other one appeared undamaged, but more wary than before.

Oh, keep hesitating, she urged them silently. Let us get a head start!

"Anybody else around?" she asked Tsh't. If these two ships were the only ones left, she'd be willing to turn the engines back on full power, and let even the devil know they were an Earth ship!

The lieutenant blinked. "Yes, Gillian. Six more. Approaching rapidly." Tsh't shook her head. "There's no way we'll get away from this new bunch. They're coming too fasst. Sorry, Gillian."

"The Brothers have made up their minds," Wattaceti announced. "They're coming after uss!"

Tsh't rolled her eyes. Gillian silently agreed. We won't fool them again.

"Suessi calls. He wants to know if if…"

Gillian sighed. "Tell Hannes there don't seem to be any more 'female tricks' forthcoming. I'm fresh out of ideas."

The two battleships drew nearer, chasing Streakers stern. They held their fire, saving it for a total assault.

Gillian thought about Tom. She couldn't help feeling that she had failed him.

It really was a good plan, hon. I only wish I'd executed it competently for you.

The enemy bore down on them, looming ominously.

Then Lucky Kaa shouted. "Vector change!" The pilot's tail thrashed. "They're veering offff! Fleeing like mullet-t!"

Gillian blinked in confusion. "But they had us!"

"It's the newcomers, Gillian! Those six oncoming shipsss!" Tsh't shouted joyfully.

"What? What about them?"

Tsh't grinned as broadly as a neo-fin could manage. "They're Thennanin! They're coming in blassting! And it'sss not us they're shooting at!"

The screens showed the pair of cruisers that had been chasing them, now in full flight, firing Parthian style at the approaching mini-flotilla.

Gillian laughed. "Wattaceti! Tell Suessi to shut down! Put everything on idle and pour out smoke. We want to play the gravely wounded soldier!"

After a moment came the engineer's reply.

"Suessi says that that-t will be no problem. No problem at all."

121 ::: Galactics

Buoult's crest riffled with waves of emotion. Krondorsfire lay ahead of them, battered but proud. He had thought the old battlewagon lost since the first day of the battle, and Baron Ebremsev, its commander. Buoult longed to see his old comrade again.

"Is there still no response?" he asked the communicator.

"No, Commander. The ship is silent. It is possible they just now sustained a fatal blow that…Wait! there is something! A flashing-light signal in uncoded open-talk! They are sending from one of the viewing ports!"

Buoult edged forward eagerly. "What do they say? Do they require help?"

The communications officer huddled before his monitor, watching the winking lights, jotting notes.

"All weapons and communications destroyed," he recited, "life support and auxiliary drives still serviceable…Earthlings ahead, chased by a few dregs… We shall withdraw… happy hunting… Krondorsfire out."

Buoult thought the message a little odd. Why would Ebremsev want to pull out if he could still follow and at least draw fire from the enemy?

Perhaps he was making a brave show in order not to hold them back. Buoult was about to insist on sending aid anyway when the communications officer spoke again.

"Commander! A squadron is outbound from the water planet! At least ten vessels! I read signs of both Tandu and Soro!"

Buoult's crest momentarily collapsed. It had come to pass, the very last alliance of heretics.

"We have one chance! After the fugitives at once! We can overpower the remnants even as they overpower the Earthlings, and be off before the Tandu and Soro arrive!"

As his ship leapt outward, he had a message sent back to Krondorsfire. "May the Great Ghosts dwell with you…"

"That's a pretty sophisticated little computer you've kept hidden away all this time," Tsh't commented.

Gillian smiled. "It's actually Tom's."

The fins nodded wisely. That was explanation enough.

Gillian thanked the Niss machine for its hurry-up Thennanin translation. The disembodied voice whispered from a cluster of sparkles that floated near her, dancing and whirling amidst the fizzing oxywater bubbles.

"I could do nothing else, Gillian Baskin," it replied. "You few lost Earthlings have accumulated, in the course of heaping disasters upon yourselves, more data than my masters have gathered in the last thousand years. The lessons about uplift alone will profit the Tymbrimi, who are always willing to learn-even from wolflings."

The voice faded, and the sparkles vanished before Gillian could reply.

"The signal party's returned from the viewport, Gillian," Tsh't said. "The Thennanin have gone off chasing our shadows, but they'll be back. What-t do we do now?"

Gillian felt tremors of adrenalin reaction. She had not planned beyond this point. There was only one thing she wanted desperately to do now. Only one destination in the universe she wanted to go.

"Kithrup," she whispered.

Gillian shook herself. "Kithrup?" She looked at Tsh't, knowing what the answer would be, but wishing it weren't so.

Tsh't shook her sleek head. "There'sss a flotilla orbiting Kithrup now, Gillian. No fighting. There must've been a winner in the big battle.

"Another squadron's heading this way fassst. A big one. We don't want em to get close enough to see through our disguise."

Gillian nodded. Her voice didn't want to function, but she made the words come.

"North," she said.

"Take us out along Galactic north, Tsh't… to the transfer point. Full speed. When we get close enough, we'll dump the Seahorse, and get the Ifni-damned hell out of here with… with the ashes we've won."

The dolphins returned to their posts. The rumble of the engines gathered strength.

Gillian swam to one dark corner of the crystal dome, to a place where there was a chink in the Thennanin armor, where she could look at the stars directly.

Streaker picked up speed.

123 ::: Galactics

The Tandu-Soro detachment was gaining on the strung out fugitives.

"Mistress, a crippled Thennanin is approaching the transfer point on an escape trajectory."

Krat squirmed on her cushion and snarled. "So? Casualties have left the battle area before. All sides try to evacuate their wounded. Why do you bother me when we are even now closing in!"

The little Pila detector officer scuttled back into its cubbyhole. Krat bent to watch her forward screens.

A small squadron of Thennanin struggled to keep ahead. Further on, at the edge of detection, sparks of desultory battle showed that the leaders were still bickering, even as they closed on the quarry.

What if they're mistaken, Krat wondered. We chase the Thennanin, who chase the remnants, who chase what? Those fools might even be chasing each other!

It didn't matter. Half the Tandu-Soro fleet orbited Kithrup, so the Earthlings were trapped, one way or another.

We'll deal with the Tandu in good time, she thought, and meet the ancient ones alone.

"Mistress!" the Pila shouted shrilly. "There is a transmission from the transfer point!"

"Bother me one more time with inconsequentials…" she rumbled, flexing her mating claw threateningly. But the client interrupted her! The Pil dared to interrupt!

"Mistress. It is the Earth ship! They taunt us! They defy us! They…"

"Show me!" Krat hissed. "It must be a trick! Show me at once!"

The Pil ducked back into its section. On Krat's main screen appeared the holo image of a man, and several dolphins. From the man's shape, Krat could tell it was a female, probably their leader.

"…stupid creatures unworthy of the name 'sophonts.' Foolish, pre-sentient upspring of errant masters. We slip away from all your armed might, laughing at your clumsiness! We slip away as we always will, you pathetic creatures. And now that we have a real head start, you'll never catch us! What better proof that the Progenitors favor not you, but us! What better proof…"

The taunt went on. Krat listened, enraged, yet at the same time savoring the artistry of it. These men are better than I'd thought. Their insults are wordy and overblown, but they have talent. They deserve honorable, slow deaths.

"Mistress! The Tandu with us are changing course! Their other ships are leaving Kithrup for the transfer point!"

Krat hissed in despair. "After them! After them at once! We followed them through space this far. The chase only goes on!"

The crew bent to their tasks resignedly. The Earth ship was in a good position to escape. Even at best this would be a long chase.

Krat realized that she would never make it home in time for mating. She would die out here.

On her screen, the man continued to taunt them.

"Librarian!" she called. "I do not understand some of the man's words. Find out what that phrase — Nyaahh nyaaah — means in their beastly wolfling tongue!"

124 ::: Tom Orley

Cross-legged on a woven mat of reeds, shaded by a floating wreck, he listened as a muttering volcano slowly sputtered into silence. Contemplating starvation, he listened to the soft, wet sounds of the endless weedscape, and found in them a homely beauty. The squishy, random rhythms blended into a backdrop for his meditation.

On the mat in front of him, like a focus mandala, lay the message bomb he had never set off. The container glistened in the sunlight of north Kithrup's first fine day in weeks. Highlights shone in dimpled places where the metal had been battered, as he had been. The dented surface gleamed still.

Where are you now?

The subsurface sea-waves made his platform undulate gently. He floated in a trance through levels of awareness, like an old man poking idly through his attic, like an old-time hobo looking with mild curiosity through the slats of a moving boxcar.

Where are you now, my love?

He recalled a Japanese haiku from the eighteenth century, by the great poet Yosa Buson.

As the spring rains fall,

Soaking in them, on the roof,

Is a child's rag ball.

Watching blank images in the dents on the psi-globe, he listened to the creaking of the flat jungle — its skittering little animal sounds — the wind riffling through the wet, flat leaves.

Where is that part of me that has departed?

He listened to the slow pulse of a world ocean, watched patterns in the metal, and after a while, in the reflections in the dents and creases, an image came to him.

A blunt, bulky, wedge shape approached a place that was a not-place, a shining blackness in space. As he watched, the bulky thing cracked open. The thick carapace slowly split apart, like a hatching egg. The shards fell away, and there remained a slender nubbed cylinder, looking a bit like a caterpillar. Around it glowed a nimbus, a thickening shell of probability that hardened even as he watched.

No illusion, he decided. It cannot be an illusion.

He opened himself to the image, accepting it. And from the caterpillar a thought winged to him.

Blossoms on the pear

and a woman in the moonlight

reads a letter there…

His slowly healing lips hurt as he smiled. It was another haiku by Buson. Her message was as unambiguous as could be, under the circumstances. She had somehow picked up his trance-poem, and responded in kind.

"Jill…" he cast as hard as he could.

The caterpillar shape, sheathed in a cocoon of stasis, approached the great hole in space. It dropped forward toward the not-place, grew transparent as it fell, then vanished.

For a long time Tom sat very still, watching the highlights on the metal globe slowly shift as the morning passed.

Finally, he decided it wouldn't do him or the universe any harm if he started doing something about survival.

125 ::: The Skiff

"Between you two crazy males, have you come any closer to figuring out what he'sss talking about?"

Keepiru and Sah'ot just stared back at Hikahi. They turned back to their discussion without answering her, huddling with Creideiki, trying to interpret the captain's convoluted instructions.

Hikahi rolled her eyes and turned to Toshio. "You'd think they'd include me in these seances of theirs. After all, Creideiki and I are mates!"

Toshio shrugged. "Creideiki needs Sah'ot's language skill and Keepiru's ability as a pilot. But you saw their faces. They're halfway into the Whale Dream right now. We can't afford to have you that way while you're in command."

"Hmmmph." Hikahi spumed, only slightly mollified. "I suppose you've finished the inventory, Toshio?"

"Yes, sir." He nodded. "I have a written list ready. We're well enough stocked in consumables to last to the first transfer point, and at least one beyond that. Of course, we're in the middle of nowhere, so we'll need at least five transfer jumps to get anywhere near civilization. Our charts are pitifully inadequate, our drives will probably fail over the long haul, and few ships our size have even taken transfer points successfully. Aside from all that, and the cramped living quarters, I think we're all right."

Hikahi sighed. "We can't lose anything by trying. At leasst the Galactics are gone."

"Yeah," he agreed. "It was a nice stroke, Gillian taunting the Eatees from the transfer point. It let us know they got away, and got the Eatees off our backs."

"Don't say 'Eatees,' Toshio. It'ss not polite. You may offend some nice Kanten or Linten one day if you get into the habit."

Toshio swallowed and ducked his head. No matter where or when, no lieutenant had ever been known to slacken off on a middie. "Yes, sir," he said.

Hikahi grinned and flicked a small splash of water on the youth with her lower jaw.

* Duty, duty

Brave shark-biter

* What reward

Could taste better?

Toshio blushed and nodded.

The skiff started to move again. Keepiru was back in the pilot's saddle. Creideiki and Sah'ot chattered excitedly in a semi-Primal rhythm which still sent shivers down Hikahi's spine. And Sah'ot had said that Creideiki was toning it down on purpose!

She was still getting used to the idea that Creideiki's injury might have been a door opening, rather than a closing.

The skiff lifted from the sea and began to speed eastward, following Creideiki's hunch.

"What about passenger morale?" Hikahi asked Toshio.

"Well, I guess it's all right. That pair of Kiqui are happy so long as they're with Dennie. And Dennie's happy… well, she's happy enough for now."

Hikahi was amused. Why should the youth be embarrassed about Dennie's other preoccupation? She was glad the two young humans had each other, as she had Creideiki.

In spite of his new, eerie side, Creideiki was the same dolphin. The newness was something he used, something he seemed only to have begun exploring. He could hardly speak, but he conveyed his great intellect — and his caring — in other ways.

"What about Charlie?" she asked Toshio.

Toshio sighed. "He's still embarrassed."

They had found the chimp a day after the great earthquakes, clinging to a floating tree-trunk, sopping wet. He had been unable to speak for ten hours, and had kept climbing the walls in the skiff's tiny hold until he finally calmed down.

Charlie finally admitted that he had scrambled to the top of a tall tree just before the island blew. It had saved his life, but the stereotype mortified him.

Toshio and Hikahi crowded in behind Keepiru's station and watched as the ocean rolled swiftly beneath the skiff. For minutes at a time the sea turned a brilliant green as they passed over great swatches of vine. The little boat sped toward the sun.

They had been searching for almost a week, ever since Streaker had departed.

First found had been Toshio, swimming purposefully westward, never giving up. Then Dennie had led them to another island where there was a tribe of Kiqui. While she negotiated another treaty, they searched for and found Charles Dart.

Takkata-Jim's Stenos were all missing or dead.

After that had come one last, and apparently forlorn, search. They had been at this last phase for several days now.

Hikahi was about to give up. They couldn't go on wasting time and consumables like this. Not with the journey they had ahead of them.

Not that they really had much of a chance. No one had ever heard of a voyage like they planned. A cross-Galactic journey in the skiff would make Captain Bligh's epic crossing of the Pacific in the Bounty's longboat seem like an afternoon jaunt.

She kept her appraisal to herself, though. Creideiki and Keepiru probably understood what lay ahead of them. Toshio seemed to have guessed part of it already. There was no reason to inform the others until they had to cut the rations for the fourth time.

She sighed.

* Of what else

Are heroes made

* Than men and women

Who, like us,

* Try — *

Keepiru's fluting call of triumph was like a shrill trumpet. He squawled and tossed on his platform. The skiff rolled left and right in a wiggle-waggle, then went into a screaming climb.

"What the f — !!" Toshio stopped himself, "Holy jumping turtle-fish, Keepiru! What is it?"

Hikahi used a harness arm to grab a wall stanchion, and looked out a port. She sighed for a third time, long and deep.

The smoke from his fire momentarily hid the boat from sight. The first he knew of it was the sonic boom that rolled over him, nearly knocking over his drying racks.

The human standing on the woven reed mat almost dove for cover, but a hunch made him stop and look up instead.

His eyes were sun-squinted. Crow's-feet that had not been there a few weeks before lay at the corners. His beard was black with thin gray flecks. It had grown out and nearly stopped itching. It almost covered a ragged scar that ran down one cheek.

Shading his eyes, he recognized the wild maneuvers before he did the outlines of the tiny ship. It streaked high into the sky and looped about, coming back to screech past him again.

He reached out to steady the drying racks against the thunder. No sense in letting the meat go to waste. It had taken a lot of work to harvest it, strip it, and prepare it. They might need it for the voyage ahead.

He wasn't sure how the fen would take to the stuff, but it was nourishing… the only food on the planet that an Earthling could eat.

Gubru jerky, Tandu strips, and flayed Episiarch would never make it into haute cuisine, of course. But perhaps they were an acquired taste.

He grinned and waved as Keepiru finally calmed down enough to bring the skiff to a halt nearby.

How could I ever have doubted he'd still he alive? Hikahi wondered, joyfully. Gillian said he had to live. None of the Galactics could ever touch him. How could they?

And why, in the wide universe, was I ever worried about getting home?

Epilog

: Rest : Rest And Listen :

: Rest And Listen And Learn, Creideiki :

: For The Startide Rises :

: In The Currents Of The Dark :

: And We Have Waited Long, For What Must Be :

Dolphin names often sound as if they are Polynesian or Japanese. In some cases this is true. In general, however, the neo-fin chooses for a name a sound he likes, usually a polysyllabic word with strong alternating vowels and consonants.

In Anglic, the words "man," "men," and "mankind" apply to humans without reference to gender. On those occasions when gender is important, a female human is referred to as a "fem," and a male human as a "mel."

Dolphin languages are the author's invention, and are not meant to represent the communication of natural dolphins and whales today. We are only beginning to understand the place of the cetaceans in the world, as we are just beginning to understand our own.

The author wishes to thank all those who helped with this work, with their advice and criticism and encouragement, especially Mark Grygier, Anita Everson, Patrick Maher, Rick and Pattie Harper, Ray Feist, Richard Spahl, Tim LaSelle, Ethan Munson, and, as always, Dan Brin. Lou Aronica and Tappan King of Bantam Books were most helpful with encouragement when morale was lowest.

The translated haiku by Yosa Buson were from An Anthology of Japanese Literature, compiled and edited by Donald Keene, published by Grove Press.

The world's many paths diverge, in both reality and imagination. The creatures of this novel are all fanciful. But it may happen that some of our fellow mammals will one day be our partners. We owe it to that possible future to let their potential survive.

— DAVID BRIN

August 1982

Glossary and Cast of Characters

Acceptor — A member of a Tandu client race. A psychic adept.

Akki (Ah-kee) — A dolphin midshipman from Calafia.

Beie Chohooan (Bay Choe-hoo-wan) — A Synthian spy.

Brookida (Broo-kee-dah) — A dolphin metallurgist.

Brothers of the Night — A Galactic patron race.

Gillian Baskin — A physician and agent for the Terragens Council. A product of human genetic engineering.

Calafia — A human/neo-dolphin colony world.

Client — A species that owes its full intelligence to genetic uplift by its patron race. An indentured client species is one which is still working off this debt.

Creideiki (Cry-dye-kee) — Captain of the exploration vessel Streaker.

Emerson D'Anite — A human engineer assigned to the Streaker.

Charles Dart — A neo-chimpanzee planetologist.

Derelict fleet — A drifting collection of giant starships, ancient and long undiscovered until found by the Streaker.

Episiarch — A member of a client race indentured to the Tandu. A psychic adept.

"Fin" — Vernacular for a neo-dolphin. ("Fen" — plural.)

"Fem" — Anglic term for a female human being.

Galactic — One of the senior starfaring species which comprise the community of the five galaxies. Many have become patron races, participating in the ancient tradition of uplift.

Gubru (Goo-broo) — A pseudo-avian Galactic race hostile to Earth.

Haoke (Ha-oh-kay)- A Tursiops neo-dolphin.

Herbie — The mummy of an ancient starfarer, of unknown origin.

Heurkea (Hee-urk-eeah) — A Stenos neo-dolphin.

Hikahi (Hee-kah-hee) — A female neo-dolphin, third in command of the Streaker.

Toshio Iwashika — A midshipman from the colony world Calafia.

Ifni — "Infinity" or Lady Luck.

Iki — An ancient island of death and destruction.

Kanten — One of a few Galactic species openly friendly to Earthmen.

Karrank% (Impossible for humans to pronounce properly) — A Galactic species so thoroughly modified during its indenture as a client race that it was driven insane.

Keeneenk — A hybrid school of discipline, combining logical, human-style thought with the heritage of the Whale Dream.

Keepiru (Kee-peer-ooh) — First pilot of the Streaker. A native of Atlast.

Kiqui (Kee-kwee) — Amphibious pre-sentient creatures native to the planet Kithrup.

K'tha-jon (K'thah-jon) — A special variant Stenos neo-dolphin. One of the Streaker's petty officers.

Krat — Commander of the Soro forces.

Library — The information storehouse that holds Galactic society together; an archive of cross-referenced knowledge accumulated since the age of the Progenitors.

Makanee (Ma-kah-nay) — Ship's surgeon aboard the Streaker; a female neo-fin.

"Man"-Anglic term referring to both male and female human beings.

"Mel" — Anglic term referring specifically to a male human.

Ignacio Metz — An expert on uplift, assigned to the Streaker.

Moki (Moe-kee) — A Stenos neo-fin.

The Niss Machine — A pseudo-intelligent computer, lent to Thomas Orley by Tymbrimi agents.

Thomas Orley — An agent of the Terragens Council and a product of mild genetic engineering.

Pila — A Galactic patron race, part of the Soro clan and hostile to Earth.

Primal — The semi-language used by natural, unmodified dolphins on Earth.

Progenitors — The mythical first species, who established Galactic culture and the Library several billion years ago.

Sah'ot (Sah-ote) — A Stenos neo-dolphin. A civilian linguist onboard the Streaker.

Shallow Cluster — A seldom-visited, unpopulated globular cluster, where the derelict fleet was discovered.

Soro — A senior Galactic patron race hostile to Earth.

Stenos — A vernacular term for neo-fins whose genes include grafts from natural Stenos bredanensis dolphins.

Stenos bredanensis — A species of natural dolphins on Earth.

Dennie Sudman — A human exobiologist.

Hannes Suessi — A human engineer.

Synthian — A member of one of three Galactic races friendly to Earth.

Tandu — A militant Galactic species hostile to Earth.

Takkata-Jim (Tah-kah-tah-jim) — A Stenos neo-fin, Vice-Captain of the Streaker.

Thennanin (Thenn-an-in) — A militant Galactic species.

Tsh't (Tish-oot) — A female neo-fin, the Streaker's fourth officer.

Tursiops — A vernacular word for neo-dolphins without Stenos gene grafts.

Tursiops amicus — A modern neo-dolphin. "Friendly bottlenose."

Tursiops truncatus — Natural bottlenose dolphins on Earth.

Tymbrimi (Tim-brye-me) — A Galactic race friendly to Earthmen, renowned for its cleverness.

Uplift — The process by which older spacefaring races bring new species into Galactic culture, through breeding and genetic engineering. The resulting client species serves its patron for a period of indenture to pay for this favor.

Wattaceti — A neo-fin non-commissioned officer.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

DAVID BRIN was born in 1950 in Southern California. He has been an engineer with Hughes Aircraft Co., and attended Caltech and the University of California at San Diego, where he completed doctoral studies on comets and asteroids. Dr. Brin is presently a consultant with the California Space Institute, a unit of the University of California, San Diego, doing advanced studies concerning the space shuttle and space science. He also teaches university physics and occasionally creative writing. His novel Startide Rising won the Hugo and Nebula Awards and his short story, "The Crystal Spheres" won the Hugo Award, as did his novel The Uplift War. His other novels include Sundiver, The Practice Effect and The Postman. He is currently at work on his next novel.