While Sam was directing the counting and recording of the factory ship's sullen, disgruntled crew, Hwoshien joined the other survivors. His attention went first to the one person among them he had not yet met.
"What of the town?" he asked Dawn simply.
She shook her head.
"You are the only survivor?"
"And that only because I wasn't in the town at the time it was attacked." She gestured limply to Cora and the others. "I was on the reef, guiding these people."
"We know the first cause now," Cora said. Hwoshien turned to her. "It's been baleen whales all along, at every town. They attack in military formations, as if they've been drilling for such assaults all their lives, and after each attack they disperse and disappear."
"But we still have no idea why they're doing this," Merced picked up for her, "or if they're doing so on their own or under the direction of someone else."
Hwoshien put both hands behind his back, wandered to the railing that had not been flattened by whale weight. "Another town," he finally rumbled. "Another population lost, more financial disruption and distress." He looked back at them. "The baleens are responsible, you say? That's bad. Very bad. We had already been told as much, but I wanted to be certain. Transmissions can be garbled and—" He stopped, breathed deeply. "Not that I doubted the source of the information, but I wanted to hear it directly from you."
"How could you have been?…" Rachael looked surprised at her mother's forgetfulness. "Oh, of course. Latehoht and Wenkoseemansa told you."
"The pair of orcas who operate with Sam, yes. Since whales were involved, and since in a thousand years no human has harmed one of the Cetacea, we thought that despite the severity of the situation it would be best to have one cetacean inflict an injury on another, if any had to be injured at all.
"There are always several pods of orcas hanging around Mou'anui, waiting for the chance to play with or inspect or work together with people. Latehoht and Wenkosee—whatever his name is—put out a call as soon as they told us what had happened. Locals put out the greater call to others of their kind."
"What do you think would have happened," Merced asked curiously, "if they had found the town intact but still under siege by the baleens?"
"I don't know," the old man admitted. "While humans and cetaceans no longer fight, the same is true ten times over for cetacean and cetacean. But even if they had elected, in such a case, not to interfere physically, they still could have talked to their cousins more effectively than we."
"It's all so frustrating," Cora burst out. "You make a dent in the problem and it makes a bulge on the other side of the same problem."
Hwoshien had turned to inspect the piles of un-stored salvage on the factory ship's rear deck. "At least we know now what happened to so much of the valuable electronic equipment that disappeared from the area of the vanished towns. We suspected it had sunk into the abyss." He sniffed. "I would not expect such discrimination from people of this type, like this Hazaribagh."
"You know him, then?" Cora was surprised.
"Only by records and tapes. I recognized this ship readily enough. I know every ship and town on Cachalot. It's my business to know their business. But I would never have suspected such a modest operator and his crew to be tied into anything so extreme. He is not controlling or operating with the baleens, then?"
Merced nodded. "That's what he's said. We haven't had the opportunity to discover whether he's been telling the truth, but according to what we've seen and what you've just said, I would tend to believe him. So extraordinary an enterprise seems utterly beyond his capability. He's an opportunist, not a genius."
"We concur, then," Hwoshien said, "though, like you, I'm certainly not going to leave the matter at Hazaribagh's word."
"If he's lying," Cora said, suddenly concerned, "and he is after all controlling the baleens in some fashion, it's possible that…" Her gaze traveled nervously to the horizon.
"No, it's not." Mataroreva rejoined them, a beamer dangling from and almost lost in one huge hand.
"Latehoht and Wenkoseemansa's friends and relatives are patrolling far enough out to warn us in plenty of time if a single whale conies within ten kilometers."
Cora relaxed only slightly. The dozen peaceforcers looked very competent as they wrist-sealed the crew. But their suprafoil displayed only a single energy cannon at the bow. She doubted it would last very long under the assault of, say, twenty blue whales. The orcas were their best defense—assuming they would actually interfere with an assault by their larger cousins. If not, she reminded herself, the suprafoil below could outpace the fastest whale in the sea. So they were fairly safe.
Or were they? They had learned much. But Vai'oire had thought itself safe, too.
Only one thing kept Cora from asking then and there for transfer back to Mou'anui. While her fear was enormous, her curiosity was greater. That was ever the case with the scientist in the field, whose courage was born of brain and not of brawn.
"If this Hazaribagh person was controlling or directing the whales in any way, to any degree," Hwoshien was saying, "I should think we would have been attacked long before now."
"Yes, that makes sense," she agreed.
They followed the Commissioner of Cachalot as he walked over to confront Hazaribagh. The scavenger looked even smaller with his head bowed and his wrists sealed together. The chemical handcuff could not be removed except by a special solvent. The rest of his crew was similarly bound.
Hazaribagh looked up at Hwoshien, tried to assume an air of defiance.
"So," the older man began casually, "it seems you insist that you are not responsible for the deaths of several thousand innocent citizens."
"I've never killed a single person or had one killed." The ship leader sounded embittered by his sour luck. He threw a surreptitious glance at his former captives. "I confess that might have changed if your whales had not arrived when they did." He shrugged. "Who knows? Perhaps it's better this way. I had no wish to harm anyone."
"Or to save anyone," Cora snapped at him. "If you had no wish to do so?…"
"I told you why. For the chance to be wealthy. For the chance to sell this thin-seamed ship and get off this sweaty, salt-stink of a world!" He glared across at Hwoshien, the two men regarding each other like a couple of irritated banty roosters. "If I'm guilty of anything, it's withholding information. You can't even accuse us of not aiding survivors, because we never found any."
"We have only your word for that," Hwoshien replied ominously. "You were about to dispose of these good people to protect your activities. I wonder how many other inconvenient citizens you had to dispose of."
"None, dammit!"
"We'll find out when we question your crew folk."
"Go ahead." Hazaribagh appeared unconcerned. "They have no reason to lie. And we still have the laws of salvage on our side."
"If you had adhered to them properly, you would," Hwoshien said. "But you did not report what you recovered for recording purposes. And salvage does not apply to, for example, personal effects, which are to be turned over to surviving relatives and which, I suspect, you have also heartlessly marketed."
"You can't prove any of that."
"We will. You just admitted that your people have no reason to lie."
Hazaribagh's defiance leaked away like sand through a sieve.
"You still insist you had nothing to do with the cetacean attacks?"
"Yes," he murmured. He looked toward Mataroreva, found no sympathy there. "I've already told him that. We're victims of circumstance."
"Victims of greed. You might have prevented the deaths of many people. What's done with you will be up to the courts, but they'll hear no cries of mitigating circumstances from me." Hwoshien turned to one of the nearby peaceforcers. "Put him on the other catcherfoil, together with any manifests or chip records you can find."
"What happens to my ship?"
"Nothing yet, though if you have so low an opinion of it, I wonde
r that you care. It will be sailed back to Mou'anui by your crew, under peaceforcer supervision. The courts will decide what to do with it as well as with its crew." Hazaribagh and the tall man guarding him started for the side.
"Just a minute." The downcast ship manager and his watchful attendant halted. "If you could give us some insight, if you have any idea what is causing the baleens to act in this inexplicably belligerent fashion, that might be a contribution in your favor the courts would recognize."
Hazaribagh's humorless laughter echoed across the deck. "If I knew that and admitted it, that would make me at least partly guilty of what you've first accused me of, wouldn't it? A neat trick." He coughed, said harshly, "I've not the slightest idea. My fishing experts have no idea. Mass insanity that comes and goes, manifests itself as rage against humanity? Who knows? Perhaps they are at last sick of mankind's presence in their ocean."
Cora felt disappointed. She hadn't expected any revelations from Hazaribagh, but she had had hopes. The ship manager was led down a boarding ladder to the suprafoil below. Hwoshien rejoined the others.
"Something else doesn't make sense," Cora told him.
"I seek clarification, not additional confusion," he muttered.
"In the attack we witnessed," she pressed on, "we saw two kinds of baleens—blues and humpbacks. Latehoht and Wenkoseemansa were chased by rights and worried about the presence of fins. Now, these are all plankton-eaters, but as far as I've read, they never school together. Joint schooling of, for example, humpbacks and seis is unknown. I realize that studies of Cachalot cetacean society are limited, but in all the preparation I did before we came here I didn't come across a single example of joint schooling."
"That's right," Dawn said excitedly. "Not only are they functioning as a group, the attacks involve mixed species."
"We've tried for weeks to find a purely scientific explanation," Merced said. They all turned to look at him. "Maybe we're going about this the wrong way."
"How do you mean?" Rachael asked respectfully, cuddling her neurophon. She had already been badgering the crew of the peaceforcer suprafoil for replacement modules for the instrument.
Merced appeared embarrassed, as he always did when everyone else's attention was focused on him. "We've been trying to find a biological explanation for the attacks. Now we intend to concentrate on the cetaceans. If we throw out the insanity explanation and assume there is some kind of intelligence at work behind all this, how would we go about determining the ultimate cause?"
"I'm not sure I follow you," Cora said.
"That's because you're still thinking in terms of cetaceans. We all are. Let's use the more obvious analogies rather than the less so. If a group of humans attacked a town but insisted they didn't know what they were doing, how would we begin to go about finding out the cause?"
"Capture one of them and question him or her."
Mataroreva looked at the little scientist approvingly. Merced nodded.
"That's impossible," Cora said immediately. "You can't restrain a blue whale without using something more than words. Even the use of a temporarily debilitating narcotic drug could be interpreted by the Cetacea as the use of violence. That would shatter the human-cetacean peace you're always telling us about. Anything milder than that, like a large net enclosure, would probably be torn apart."
"There must be some way," Dawn murmured.
Mataroreva looked at them thoughtfully. "There may be. You can't compel seventy tons or more of whale, but you may be able to convince it."
He went to the railing, slipping his translator unit back over his head. Loud squealing sounds rose from the water below, and Cora hurried, along with her companions, to adjust her own unit as they walked to the side of the factory ship.
Latehoht was already sounding. Moments later she returned, accompanied by a large, scarred male.
"Thhis is hhe whho is called Kinehahtoh," she informed them, "He-Who-Swims-Out-Front. Kinehahtoh of many battles, seniorr ammong the podd whho rescued you, as you requested, frriend Samm. Kinehahtoh the wise, who speaks forr the brrotherrs and sisterrs of the packkkk."
A surprise followed, for when she introduced the old male to the waiting humans, she used their cetacean as well as their human names. A touch ruefully, Cora learned that the name she had been given by Latehoht and her mate was Talsehnsoht—She-Who-Has-To-Know-Everything.
"Kinehahtoh," Sam began, "we must know why the baleens have been killing our people and destroying their homes."
"Surre you arre noww, surre beyond rreason or doubt, thhat thhey arre trruly responsible?" the patriarch inquired. Grandfather grampus, Cora thought, admiring him.
"I and my friends witnessed such an attack ourselves. A blue whale is not a cloud, to be mistaken for one. This is a truth-thing, Kinehahtoh."
"A trruth-thhat-is-not," the oldster agreed, shuddering. That .quiver was ancient cetacean behavior, Cora knew. Not a reaction acquired from contact with mankind. "Though arre you knnown to us as one whho speaks the trruth, Samm Matarrorreva, this one and the brrotherrs and ssisterrs would not believe had not wwe hearrd it frrom two of ourr own. Would thhat I could will it not truth, yet what is, is, and cannot be wished awayyy."
"Then you understand our need to learn the cause behind this," Mataroreva said, "as we would yours if whole pods of the orca had been killed."
"Wwe underrstand, though it makes ourr hearrts fall to thhe ooze of the Deeep Places. Whhat would you hawe us doooo?"
"We must ask the why of this terrible thing of one who was part of it." Kinehahtoh did not reply, lay waiting. "To do so, we must have the help of the orca so we do not risk the peace between man and Cetacea."
Still the old male did not speak. Finally he did so, choosing his words slowly and carefully. "One whho has beeen parrtnerr to so vicious a thhing may not wish to talk of it." Even in translation, the orca sounded distinctly troubled.
Mataroreva took a long breath before responding. "That is why we must make this request of you. We cannot forcibly restrain a baleen to question it, as you well know. But if the pack assembled here were to gather tight around a single whale, as they have around this ship, there would be no fight."
"It could be interpreted as a prowocation to suchh, a brreach of the peace, a challenge to the
Covenantt. Not forr a thousand yearrs has orrca tasted of baleeen. Wwe cannot rriskk the Covenantttt."
"I'm not asking you to," Mataroreva said quickly, before Kinehahtoh could set himself irrevocably against the idea. "There are fifty of the orca here. If so many were to surround a solitary bull, for example, what could be the result? The baleen thinks slowly. I suspect it would simply float in one place until the multiple obstruction was removed."
"I doo not knnow," the leader of the pack replied. "Not forr centurries has such a confrrontation taken plaaace."
"Just my point," Mataroreva pressed on. "The result wouldn't be anger. It would be confusion. The restraining need last only long enough for us to ask a few critical questions. By the time the baleen could make up its lumbering mind that it might possibly be threatened, maybe we'll have our answers and can leave it in peace. No one is being asked to fight anyone."
"A thousand yearrs of Covenant," Kinehahtoh murmured solemnly. "A thousand yearrs of peace ammong the Cetacea."
"The Cetacea as well as man are confronted with an unprecedented crisis," Mataroreva argued. "If men who do not understand the ways of Cachalot learn that the baleens are responsible, even indirectly, for the destruction, a greater threat to the Covenant will arise than any single confrontation could ever create." He did not add that since the cetaceans were fully protected, the trouble would more likely be between men.
"Will I askk the otherrsss," the old orca decided at last. His great head smashed into the water as he turned and vanished. Latehoht went with him.
Mataroreva clarified the discussion for Hwoshien, who had waited patiently nearby. Long minutes passed and still no sign of returning orcas. Cora wandered to stand next
to Mataroreva and watch the sea. "What do you think they'll do, Sam?"
He didn't try to conceal his worry. "I don't know. As far as they're concerned, I've just made a dangerous request. It remains to be seen whether or not that will outweigh the threat posed by whatever is driving their larger relatives to madness."
"But they've already saved our lives once."
He smiled faintly. "Killing bad humans is a very different proposition from attacking or even threatening another whale."
"But we're not asking them to attack."
"I'm hoping they'll see that. If they don't, we may as well forget it and try something else. Not even Latehoht or Wenkoseemansa can change their minds once they've reached a decision."
Kinehahtoh returned. "The orrcas hawe agrreed. Help you to finnd and encirrcle one of the baleeen wwe will. But iff it mowes to escape," he warned, "orr calls otherrs to its aid, wwe will not trry to hold it. This abowe all must bee underrstood. Must not the Covenant bee thrreatened, or all will sufferrrr."
"Suppose," Merced asked disconcertingly, "the baleen we confront chooses not only to ignore our questions but to attack us?"
Kinehahtoh's instant reply left no room for misunderstandings. "Help and enjoy wwe worrking with hummans in many things. Butt wwe will not fight with cousins. Theirr actions arre theirr owwn. Wwe cannot interrferre. If one of the Grreat Whales turrns on you, you mustt cope with it as besst you arre abllle to."
"And you won't try to protect us?" Merced sounded more like a quaestor working a truthfinder during a trial than a biologist querying a killer whale.
"Must the Covenant bee kept," Kinehahtoh repeated firmly. "Follow noww, and wwe will huntttt." He turned away before Merced or anyone else could pose another question, to rejoin the waiting group of high dorsal fins stirring the water.
When informed of the orcas' limitations and the concurrent risk, Hwoshien did not hesitate. "Of course we have to go along. It is our best chance to find out what is driving the baleens to these deeds."
"And if a sixty-ton fin whale rushes our ship at forty kilometers per?" Mataroreva asked.
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