Cachalot

by Foster, Alan Dean;

  Somehow the sonarizer operator managed to keep a scan ahead of the cluster of blips that identified the leading pod.

  "There's something out there," he reported over the communicators.

  "Baleen?" Mataroreva asked quickly.

  "Big enough to be. And there's more than one showing. I read five or six."

  "Species?"

  "Too far for resolution."

  The catodons had sensed them, too. The herd turned with precision and the foil angled to remain with them.

  As the distance closed, the sonarizer operator continued to report. "I make out seven now. Not humpbacks. Not rights. Fins or blues. Ten... no, close to twenty now. Fins, I think."

  By now the lead catodons should be in verbal contact with the baleen pod, Cora knew. "Fins could out-swim them," she murmured.

  "If they haven't by now, that means some of the pod are on the other side of them, and probably diving to get beneath them," Mataroreva replied speculatively.

  The fins did not try to swim away, though they were the fastest of all the whales. But they did not stop to answer questions, either. What they did was so shocking that both humans and catodons were equally stunned.

  A sound echoed through the long-range pickup and over everyone's communicator. A sound that Cora recognized as a whale in pain. Mataroreva was pointing wordlessly over the bow as others ran to join and gape alongside them.

  Ahead, the water was churning as if disturbed by the explosion of a series of heavy charges. Huge forms breached clear of the sea and vast flukes battered the innocent waters. The helmsman slowed the foil without waiting for formal orders. Commotion and chaos made froth of the ocean around the ship, jolting it and inhabitants unmercifully. If they had been traveling among the pod instead of behind it, they would already have been swamped.

  From the speaker emanated sounds diversified in then" anguish and all too familiar.

  "What's going on?" Dawn wanted to know, arriving out of breath.

  "I don't believe it!" Mataroreva told her above the cetacean screams and the noise of great bodies in collision. "I don't believe it!"

  The fins were attacking the catodons.

  If the humans on the foil were stunned, the pod of catodons was more so. Surprise and shock rapidly gave way to instincts equally basic, and they began to defend themselves.

  Charging at great speed, a pair of fins would attempt to catch an unwary catodon between them. But they were badly outnumbered, and in any case, at a real disadvantage in having nothing to bite with. Nor were they constructed for butting, the only form of attack they could use against another whale. The more intelligent catodons soon overpowered their cousins.

  All at once the fins ceased their assault.

  The sonarizer was of little help now. Crowding the bow, the onlookers stared anxiously at the quiet surface as the craft moved slowly into the area of combat. It was left to the orcas to relay the critical information back to the ship.

  "Noww hawe thhey stopped theirr obscene activities. Now hawe thhey ceased to do battllle," Latehoht told them.

  "What are they doing now?" Cora asked.

  "Lie thhey in the waterr devoid of mowement or response." She went quiet for a moment, then, "Wenkoseemansa says the catodons do quesstion thhemm. Says he thhat the Great Cousins appearr dazzed and lifeless, unawarre of whhat thhey hawe just done. Unawarre to the point whherre thhey cannot feeel even outrrage at thheirr actions." Her voice was full of disbelief. "Woefful thhing is thhis. Sadness fills the waterrs. Not since thhis worrld was given overr to us has cetacean fought cetacean."

  "I'd like to question them myself," Cora murmured.

  "Out of the question." Mataroreva moved closer, perhaps to reassure her during a nervous moment, perhaps to be ready in the event of an unexpected leap at the railing. "Remember Vai'oire. Keep in mind that this bunch has just acted completely crazy and could do so again, and we're much closer now. We'll remain right where we are and let Lumpjaw and his brethren ask the first questions."

  "The baleeen pod leaderr," Latehoht was saying, "knowws not whhy thhey attacked theirr cousins the catodons. Awww... theirr reaction if not theirr motivation is noww clearr. They arre ashamed beyond measurre. They say they werre drriven, forrced to attack, as if... as iff... thhey cannot descrribe it," she concluded.

  "Never mind how," Merced said quickly. "Tell Wenkoseemansa to see if he can learn who compelled them to attack."

  Latehoht passed the request on. Minutes went by. Instead of answers, the water erupted in violence once more. The helmsman was hard put to keep them from being swamped by the behemoth shapes that filled the sea around the ship.

  "Now what?" Hwoshien wondered aloud, spitting out salt water.

  "Commpletely mad thhey hawe gone!" a shout sounded in their headsets. Latehoht maneuvered to avoid ship and catodon alike. "They fight noww to fleece."

  "They mustn't all escape!" Cora yelled frantically, struggling to avoid being thrown overboard as the suprafoil rocked and heeled against the best efforts of the stabilizers. "We must hold one of them at least!"

  But Latehoht was now too busy protecting herself to relay requests or information. Those on board had to content themselves with holding on and hoping.

  The second fight raged for five minutes before a calmer Latehoht was able to report, "Endded it is. Ewen whhen restrrained by teeth, the Grreat Cousins hawe torrn themmselves away. Too much blood darrkens the waterrrr."

  "They got away?" Cora moaned, her muscles aching from the battering she had received from railing, deck, and cabin wall.

  "Not all. Twwo-no, thrree rremain. Four. Twwo females and twwo calves."

  "Crippled?" Mataroreva inquired.

  "No. Exhausted utterrly wwerre thhey by theirr attemmpts to escape. Surrounded arre thhey now by the entirre catodon pod."

  "Four, and two of them juveniles." Cora looked earnestly at the big man nearby. "We have to question them ourselves, Sam. The catodons don't seem to have done too well."

  Frowning, the peaceforcer turned to Hwoshien. The Commissioner said nothing, conveyed nothing via his expression. It was left to Mataroreva.

  The suprafoil moved forward. None of the catodons questioned its advance. Indeed, several of them moved to leave it a clear path. Wenkoseemansa and Latehoht flanked the vessel, ready to cry a warning if the four remaining fins should unexpectedly find the strength and will to attack again.

  A wall of enormous bodies and slick backs hemmed the captives in. Cora knew the encirclement continued below them.

  Lying on the surface and breathing heavily were the two females. A single calf hovered close to one. Both adults were supporting the other calf between them, keeping it up in the life-giving air. The lateral fins and flukes of the females were marked by catodon teeth, though the wounds did not appear serious. The calf they supported was doubtless the reason why they were unable to escape. All four shapes were proportionately longer, slimmer, and lighter in color than those surrounding them.

  Cora noticed a familiar mass nearby, leaned out, and yelled via her unit, "May we question them?"

  "Madness Reigns! Madness This Is! Do What Thou Likest," the aged leader of the pod announced. But his anger was muted by curiosity.

  It took a minute to locate the proper setting on the translator. Then she called out to the four streamlined shapes. "Mothers of the Sashlan! Why have you attacked your cousins? Why have your people and the others"-she gave the names of the additional baleen tribes-"taken to killing humans who mean you no harm?"

  The nearest grooved head swung toward the foil. The helmsman twitched, his hands tightening on the controls. But it was not an offensive gesture.

  "Don't... know." The female's voice held overtones of frustration as well as exhaustion and pain. "Horrible things drive Sashlan and cousins. Mind hurts!"

  "Hurts how?" was all Cora could think to ask.

  "Deep inside. Thinking blurs. Hard to focus. Easier to let other thoughts rule actions."

  "Who?" Merced was so
intense on the question he was trembling. "Who is confusing your thoughts and bringing you the mind-pain?"

  "Mind hurts," the agonized voice protested. "Not to tell."

  "If you tell us," Cora ventured, "we can make the mind-pain go away."

  "Would be good thing. No like killing humans. Not enjoy fighting Cousins of the Teeth."

  "This thought-thing. Did it just direct you to attack your cousins, and when that failed, to flee?"

  "Yes. Hurts bad think about this."

  "We'll make the hurt go away," Cora insisted, praying they could do so. "Just tell us who is-"

  "Directions," the voice gasped laboriously. "Directions come CunsnuC."

  Cora looked expectantly at Mataroreva, who could only shake his head, baffled.

  "What is the CunsnuC?" she asked.

  "Don't know," the whale said. "Mind-pain hurts!" The female began to ramble, in a voice pathetic for so massive a creature. "Make mind-pain go away. Calf hurts. Mates hurt. All hurt! Can't... fight."

  "If you can't identify it," Mataroreva asked hopefully, "can you show us where this CunsnuC is?"

  "Will show!" the fin emphatically said. Then she added in wonderment, "Yes, will show. Pain going now. Feel better. Will show, will show, will show. Not supposed to, but will." Without further comment, the two fins, still aiding the weakened calf between them and the healthier one nearby, began to swim slowly northward.

  Mataroreva thought to say something to the pod, but there was no need to. It had listened and understood. A path opened for the fins in the ring of catodons. But they remained grouped close around their four guides, aware the fins might lose their determination and try yet once more to See both captors and the mysterious pain that assailed them.

  The suprafoil followed. Whale backs rose and fell in regular, symmetrical curves against the horizon.

  Two days later they were startled by an announcement from Wenkoseemansa. He was cruising alongside, easily keeping pace with the ship, when he shouted in surprise, "Painnn!"

  "Mind-pain?" a concerned Cora asked the moment she reached the railing.

  "Yess. But it is not bad, not unbearrable. Feeding it too arre the catodons, feeding it and rremarrking on itttt."

  "How bad is it affecting them?" Mataroreva stared over the bow. Only curved spines and open sea met his stare.

  "Not overmuch. Morre surrprrised thhan hurrt they arre, morre currious thhan injurred. A feww swwam into each otherr, but to no real hurrt. Thhey arre resistingggg."

  "The mind control. But it's not working on them. That explains why there were no catodons, or orcas of porpoises, participating in the attacks on the towns. Their minds must not be as malleable as those of the baleens. They can fight off the effect."

  "We still don't know who's behind this." Merced spoke from nearby. "We only have a meaningless word."

  "I do."

  They looked over their shoulders. Yu Hwoshien stood there, hands behind his back, staring speculatively over the side at the sweeping backs and consistent spouts of the pod.

  "I've devoted some considerable thought to it," he continued. "Off-world agents. Some group or organization that wants all humans off Cachalot."

  "The AAnn?" Cora suggested, shivering a little at the thought that humanxkind's persistently probing reptilian adversaries might be involved.

  "It's possible. But not certain. We might be dealing with another group of humans who think they can slip down here and glean the wealth of this ocean world without any interference or supervision once the existing operations are wiped out. Hazaribagh's type, only on a much more extensive and smarter scale. Or some organization with motives we are not yet aware of."

  "Won't they try to escape now?" Rachael wondered, cuddling her instrument protectively. "They must know that we're hunting them, that their control over these four fins has weakened. They try to compensate by taking control of the catodons, but that isn't working."

  "I considered that," Hwoshien said. He permitted himself to sound slightly pleased, a break in his usual mood. "Two independent monitor satellites have been tracking us ever since we separated from Hazaribagh. As soon as we began following our new guides, I ordered a Commonwealth patrol ship to join the watch." He jabbed a thumb skyward.

  "It is up there now, waiting and in contact with us. Anything that attempts to leave the surface within a radius of a thousand kilometers of this ship will be picked up and intercepted. If they try to escape by traveling under the sea or by skimming its surface, the satellites will eventually locate them and direct the patrol to their flight path. All surface vessels of known origin have already been plotted and accounted for.

  "Yes, they will try to escape. But they will not." He considered a moment, added, "It would be better for them to surrender to us and take their chances with a court before the catodons find them. Or any of the locals."

  It was an evaluation none commented on. They didn't have to. The proof was visible for all to see in Dawn's eyes.

  Chapter XVI

  Another day passed before the fins began to show signs of slowing down. The catodon pod slowed with them.

  "Verry bad noww thhey say the pain iss," Latehoht relayed to those on the ship. "Feeeling it also arre the catodons, but theirr pain iss overrwhelmmed by thheirr angemr."

  "Is this the closest they can guide us?" Mataroreva asked. He searched the horizon. There was no sign of any ship or floating installation. Yet the baleens' continuing agony was proof that the source of that same pain lay near. "Below the surface somewhere," he muttered. "That'll make it harder."

  "Ask them-" Cora began.

  Latehoht interrupted her. "Can askk no more. Cann hope forr no morre help," she said sorrowfully. "Mind-pain prroves too much, too long." No one said anything.

  "Calf die firrst, then otherr youngling. Females go last to the Sea-That-Is-Always-In-Night. Verry woefful mad arre the catodons. Most furrious is theirr leaderrr. But therre is nothing they can do.

  "CunsnuC is herre. Beloww. But tooo deeep forr the catodons, tooo deeep forr the orrcas."

  "How far?" Mataroreva inquired. Latehoht could not say. If the catodons couldn't reach the source, he knew that it must lie more than a couple of thousand meters down.

  "We need to make a decision," he said to Hwoshien. "Whoever's down there won't wait forever before making their own. If they try to escape off-planet, that's fine. We're ready for them. But what if they're gathering all the baleens within their controlling range? Several thousand might show up at any time. Under cover of another massed attack, the perpetrators might be able to get away, out of the grid established by our monitors. So we must try to force them to the surface."

  "I concur, Sam. But they may not come up readily. Obviously they're prepared to function at considerable depths."

  "So are we," Mataroreva reminded him. "Even the threat of a small explosive charge should be enough to drive them up. I'll wager they'll take a court rather than explosive decompression." He spoke into his com. "Can you find anything down there?"

  "I'm scanning all the way to the bottom, sir," the sonarizer on duty replied. "We're over an abyssal canyon. Drops eight thousand meters in spots, and it's fairly broad. But I'm not picking anything up. Either they're located in a cave in the side of the canyon, or beneath an overhang, or they have sophisticated anti-detection equipment. None of the towns reported anything."

  They never had time to, Cora thought.

  Hwoshien gave orders. A thick, stubby vessel was swung up and out of the suprafoil's hull, lowered into the water. It had curved wings laterally and straight paired ones above and below that gave it the appearance of a sunfish crossed with a Terran manta. Its hull was reinforced duralloy, the same material that made up the skin of starships.

  It could dive all the way to the bottom of the canyon, and considerably farther if need be. Usually it carried no weapons, being a creature of science and not of war. But along with the usual complement of exploratory devices, it also carried several small but powerful
ly shaped charges for rock detonation. One such charge properly placed could dent the submersible's own incredibly tough epidermis. Several properly placed could breach it. Or any similar hull.

  Hwoshien insisted on joining the exploration. Sam Mataroreva would go along in his capacity as the local authority's principal representative. Merced, Cora, and Rachael all were able to handle deep-diving submersibles, and in any case, had not come so far to be denied a look at their tormentors. The only argument over procedure arose when Rachael insisted on taking her neurophon. There was some acrimonious discussion between her and her mother in which "neuronics" and "neurotic" became confused, but eventually Rachael had her way.

  Cora had gained no support from her companions. The submersible was surprisingly roomy, designed for a crew of six. While it could not be called spacious, the five of them managed to move about without bumping into one another. And the gentle music provided by Rachael was welcomed by most as they commenced a long descent into total darkness.

  Mataroreva and Cora operated the controls. At three hundred meters Wenkoseemansa and Latehoht gave wishes and farewells before turning back. A cluster of large catodons continued to descend with the craft, turning back one by one as the air left them. But by now the submersible had long since entered the realm of night.

  Instrumentation continually probed the depths below, and continued to reveal nothing. Powerful lights flashed only on startled fish and other denizens of the dark.

  Lumpjaw strained muscles and lung capacity to accompany them to nearly twenty-one hundred meters before he was forced to turn surfaceward. He startled them all by wishing them unmistakable, if indirect, good luck. It was the first kind word one of the great whales had spoken to them since Cora had been on Cachalot. Extraordinary circumstances, she reflected, always prompted extraordinary reactions.

  Darkness reached its limits, pressure did not. Yet despite the inhospitable surroundings, life continued to thrive, further testament to the burgeoning fecundity of Cachalot's world-ocean. Fantastically illuminated life-forms swarmed around the submersible, alternately drawn to or frightened and confused by its lights.