The sharks’ presence made the twins want to avoid the lounge, which was the most pleasant and social of the meeting areas on the ship. Somehow, the sharks glowering hungrily at everyone through the glass put a damper on their own appetites. There were only four—the male they had met, his mate, and two young—but in no way did they blend in with the rest of the company, despite their claim to kinship with some of it.
The new passengers—sharks and Honus/land tortoises aside—were not the cheerful, nature-centered, flower-wreath-making, singing, and dancing folk Ke-ola had told them about. The children, thin and runny-nosed, cried constantly, and the heavy appearance of people like the old shark matriarch, the twins discovered, was more a matter of bone structure than nutrition.
Indeed, after looking askance at the replicated food and nutrient bars that were routine shipboard fare, the newcomers began eating so much that the replicators overheated. As a result, by the third day of the trip home the electronic bits wore out and the replicators stopped working altogether. Fortunately, the ship also carried stores of the dried, powdered, or otherwise preserved staples that had provided occasional treats for the twins. Most of these provisions were bound for some of Marmie’s client satellites. The tinned fish went quickly, and the twins later learned this was partially because Sky had raided the stores and hoarded a good stock of his favorite food for his own needs.
Large bags of rice, supplemented by cans of mystery meat, served to keep everyone full. The Honu/land tortoises were shown to the ’ponics garden, and they crawled sedately down the corridors, then loaded one at a time into the lift down to the garden level. There, under Midori’s watchful eye, they could graze on the plant life and also on the bugs that inevitably seemed to sprout in the garden along with the seeds.
That took care of everyone but the sharks.
“Ritual sacrifice is out of the question,” Johnny Green announced before anyone suggested it. “Unfortunately, we have no designated sacrificial crew members aboard at this time.”
“The Manos are hungry!” the shark clan chieftainess declared.
“Madame, that is painfully obvious,” Johnny told her, darting an uncomfortable glance at the toothy snarling maws staring hungrily through the glass at the lounge full of inaccessible prey. In an attempt to be diplomatic, he smiled his most roguishly handsome smile and asked, “As primary shark liaison officer for your people, have you any suggestions about what we could offer them—other than personnel, that is?”
She looked at Sky and raised her eyebrows in a calculating way.
Sky attempted to look small. Murel and Ronan stepped in front of him.
“I’m afraid Chief Petty Officer Sky, our otter operative for this mission, is essential personnel,” Johnny told her. On a more practical note he added, “Besides, he’d be less than an appetizer for the smallest of your cranky kinsmen.”
That’s when they learned about Sky’s secret stores of tinned fish, or at least it was when he admitted it. Since Sky periodically brought the twins a tin to unzip long after the rest of the fish supply was exhausted, they had sort of figured it out already.
When he led them to his hiding place, though, Murel shook her head. I can see why you’d make the offer, Sky, but there’s even less of this than there is of you. And it’s not like you can eat just anything. You need this fish just as much as the sharks do.
“Besides,” Ronan said aloud, “the Mano madame says sharks only like live prey.”
“What are we going to do then?” Murel asked. “I wish those people hadn’t brought those horrid creatures along or that we’d never found them.”
“They have some redeeming qualities,” Ronan said. “They didn’t eat us when they had the chance, though I’m sure they’re regretting that now.”
“Indeed.”
Ke-ola had followed them from the lounge and glanced sheepishly at his new friends. “I’m sorry about this. Sharks make good aumakuas because they’re such powerful creatures but they aren’t really good space travelers. Actually, they can probably survive the whole journey without eating as long as it doesn’t take any longer than it took us to get here, but I wouldn’t like to be on the transfer team that takes them from the ship to the ocean on Petaybee.”
“They’ll probably have to be sedated,” Murel said.
“That’s it! That’s brilliant,” Ronan said. “We just need to sedate them—hypersleep would probably be the best thing, but they wouldn’t fit in the chambers.”
Sedation worked, but in the end they had to sedate the old lady and two other family members as well. There were only a few days left of the journey, too short a time to put the people in hypersleep. However, once the sedated sharks were floating peacefully in their tanks and the old lady and her staunchest followers slept in their bunks, the tone of the entire journey markedly improved.
Ship’s maintenance extended the apparatus for the twins’ privacy curtain to veil the shark tank, a measure that markedly improved the morale of the crew and most passengers.
The twins and Sky helped entertain the children. While they were at it, Ronan and Murel picked up some conversational vocabulary in the language of their guests.
Sadly, however, the children of Halau knew very little of the colorful customs Ke-ola had described and demonstrated at school and on Petaybee.
“So your people didn’t really live like that?” Murel asked.
“We did, or at least tried to, when I was growing up,” said Ke-ola, who had reached the ripe old age of thirteen recently. “But Midori and I were talking about it and she says the culture grew from the place we lived, back on our islands on Terra. It makes sense, since we recognized the spirits of the land and sea and other animals. Except for the aumakuas, we don’t have any of those things anymore. That land, to hear Aunty Kimmie Sue tell it, was rich and full of food for feasts. The climate was mild and we didn’t have to work very hard to live, so we developed our dances and singing and other skills. You’ve seen Halau. If the people tried to live like they used to, it would kill them. The planet is deteriorating and the company hires away many of the stronger adults and older kids. The people who stayed behind did well just to keep themselves and the aumakuas living and fed. At least the kids know about that part of our culture.”
Murel made an mmm sound. Ronan gave a snort. He considered the aumakuas a mixed blessing. Honus were fine. Sharks were something he would have just as soon left behind.
More Petaybeans would share that feeling when the Piaf docked near Kilcoole and the sharks had to be moved from the only space port on the whole pole to the warm seawater near the volcanic island.
CHAPTER 10
NATURALLY, THE SHARKS could not be unloaded until they had been thoroughly inspected by everyone on the entire northern pole brave enough to enter the ship and face the monsters for whom they coined the Petaybean word that translated as “doom with fins.”
The twins’ geneticist father, Sean Shongili, was fascinated with the offworld creatures. He immediately buttonholed the shark clan matriarch, whose name was Puna Mano’aumakua. He asked her so many earnest questions and listened to her with such flattering attention that the forbidding-looking woman started smiling a lot. Murel realized, with a mixture of amusement and horror, that the large grim shark lady was actually flirting with their da!
Clodagh, very sensibly, was far more intrigued with the Honu/land tortoises. She expressed surprise that the little Honu she had known previously as a water dweller now crawled along the ground on elephantine feet under a substantial armor of shell. “Practical,” she said, nodding approval.
“What does Petaybee think of the sharks?” Murel asked Clodagh.
“Doesn’t know them yet,” she said. “When they are in the sea, the planet will sort out what to do with them.” Meanwhile, fish both finned and shelled were delivered via boat and otter paw as Sky’s relatives hastened to provide the newcomers with nonmammalian meals.
Sky dutifully stood near the tank and regaled th
e sharks with the generosity of the noble otters, both riverine and sea—as well as sky otters, of whom he was the only one—who were to be the shark’s greatest guides and allies on Petaybee. And who, Sky pointed out repeatedly, tasted horrible and were known to be poisonous.
On the journey home, Marmie had ordered a second tank the same size as the one aboard the Piaf, and a barge to haul it down the river and out to sea.
The new tank was filled with water, and the sharks sedated again. Then one by one they were carried in the Honu’s original tank to the new one on the barge already afloat on the river that ran from the Petaybee space port, through Kilcoole, all the way to the ocean.
The tortoises, in the interest of learning about their new home, said that they would walk the whole way.
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” Yana Maddock-Shongili, the twins’ mother, said, as if the tortoises were her kids too, instead of old enough to be her grandparents. “Fall’s just begun but there’s snow in the air already.”
The twins relayed this to Sky, who was anxious to get back into the river again. He had proposed to guide the tortoises to the sea. “Snow is fun!” he told the Honus. “If snow comes, we can all slide on it. Shells slide good!”
By then the twins’ mother had hugged, kissed, and had someone else feed her children. The twins’ mum was an ex–career military officer, and very good she had been at it, they were sure. Much better at officering than at cooking. She almost had to be.
She had also seen the sharks and was far less enamored of them than her husband. So when the twins asked to swim with Sky and guide the Honus to the sea, she agreed more readily than they’d expected.
“By all means go, swim and enjoy the sea before your ugly guests make it too perilous for me to let you go without an armed escort.”
“Oh, Mum,” Murel said, laughing. “The Manos are dangerous but they won’t hurt us. They didn’t even attack us when they were half starved, and that was before we saved their lives and all.”
She felt it would only muddy the waters, so to speak, if she mentioned that during that first encounter she and Ronan had their teeth firmly embedded in the lead shark’s tail.
Sis, she said we can. Let’s quit while we’re ahead, okay? Ronan said in thought-talk.
“Nevertheless,” Mum continued, “I want you to take Nanook and Coaxtl with you.”
“Mum, they’ll scare the otters,” Murel said, winging it a little. The big cats, domestic and snow leopard, had been the twins’ reluctant nannies when they were little kids. Though they still loved both of the large felines, they had long ago outgrown nursemaids of any species.
“Don’t give me that nonsense,” their mother replied in her briskest commanding officer voice, “I know you all communicate telepathically. The cats know the otters are off-limits for chasing or tormenting, much less as prey. Simply explain to the otters and other creatures on your mission—er, journey—that ’Nook and Co’ are big pussycats who are there to protect all concerned. I’m sure you can make yourselves understood. Have I made myself understood?”
“Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” Ronan said with a mock salute, to which Mum responded with a hug and a swat on the butt for them each as they ran toward the river.
CHAPTER 11
THE RIVER WAS almost more of a home to the twins than their parents’ cabin. Racing to their favorite entry spot, they stripped down and dived in, changing to seal form as they hit the water. Meanwhile Sky danced on the shore ahead of the Honu procession, which watched the foolishness tolerantly.
Before they could surface, they heard and felt a large splash. Fingers and opposable thumbs caught each of their tails. They flipped around to face a laughing Ke-ola.
“Trying to leave me to all the dull diplomat stuff, were you? Leilani can handle that. The Honu wants to go with his elders, and Keoki can’t wait to see the sea.”
The twins couldn’t answer him directly but over his shoulder they saw Keoki leading two curly coats, their own horses, Chapter and Page. He seemed to be receiving a lot of unsolicited advice from Nanook and Coaxtl. Coaxtl walked in circles around the boy and horses, giving them a thorough inspection while the more domesticated lion-sized track cat, Nanook, rubbed against all ten legs involved in the horse-leading operation.
Ke-ola’s Honu friend had been installed atop the shell of the foremost land-tortoise-shaped Honu, where the younger, smaller creature could advise the entire column.
Wouldn’t you rather be in the water with us? Murel asked.
I could not swim in this form, the Honu said, and it would be disrespectful to change before my elders.
Suit yourself, Ronan said, plunging back into the refreshing depths of the living river.
They frolicked in the currents and eddies, playing leap-seal and having races, snacking on the plentiful tasty fish, loving the freedom of the big wide deep river after the confines of the root-choked tunnels of Halau. It smelled so good, so full of growing plants suffusing it with oxygen, so full of colors and textures in the water’s flow. It was as different from the tank and the tunnels as Halau was from Petaybee.
Sky jumped in and out of the water, splashing the ponderous Honus playfully, sprinting back to play peeking games with Keoki. Ke-ola’s brother was surly to start with, but eventually seemed pleased to be included in the otter’s games.
Chapter and Page pranced restlessly, eager to stretch their legs after too many weeks of receiving the minimum attention due them while their primary riders were away.
The smell of snow was in the air, a shimmer of frost sparkling on the ferns lining the banks.
The river was chilled by ice that formed at night and melted when the sun rose. It felt marvelous, but when the warm sulfurous current from the hot springs flowed into the river, that felt marvelous too.
We should show the Honus and Keoki the hot springs, Murel told her brother. When he agreed, she passed the thought on to the Honu who told Ke-ola what she was thinking.
Then they turned up the little stream that flowed from the pool below the falls that concealed the communion cave.
Ke-ola floated in the current and called to his brother, “Hey, Keoki, you’re gonna love this, man! This is the magic place I told you about when we were on the ship. You should come in now. The water is warm, feels great.”
“Stinks a little,” Keoki said, drawing near and peering into the water from which a light steam rose.
“Get used to it!” Ke-ola told him. “You think that’s bad, man, wait till you smell what it’s like out near our new place.”
Keoki wrinkled his nose but stripped off the three layers of outer clothing he’d been wearing against the chill, held his nose, and jumped in.
When the twins reached the pool at the foot of the waterfall, they saw the Honus tagging far behind them, a line of upturned cauldrons in stately procession. Ke-ola, Sky, and Keoki climbed to the top of the waterfall and slid down it into the pool. Ronan said, Come on, sis, let’s do that too!
But Murel, suddenly self-conscious, replied, But we’d have to change . . .
So what? Ke-ola and Keoki know we change.
Maybe so, but we shouldn’t be so careless about it, she said. That wasn’t the real reason. She wasn’t even sure what the real reason was, but lately, sometimes, she’d felt some differences in her body that had nothing to do with changing into a seal.
Have it your way, Ronan said. The truth was, he enjoyed being back in their own waters so much, he didn’t want to come out any sooner than necessary.
So they played the game their own way. Murel hid behind the falls and leaped over Ke-ola when he splashed into the foam at the bottom of the pool. Ronan dived under Keoki when he splashed in. When Sky fell, he didn’t reach the pool because Murel leaped up and caught him on her back, shedding him when she plunged deeper into the sulfurous warm water.
While the rest of them climbed, leaped, and dived, the Honus continued to make their way up the side of the stream until the path inter
sected with the one used by the villagers during latchkays.
After one more circuit in the waterfall by the frolicking youngsters, the Honus came abreast of them, then walked under the fall and into the communion cave.
Ke-ola almost landed on top of Murel’s head as she paused to watch the last short triangular Honu tail disappear within the cascade.
Ke-ola surfaced and saw her looking after the tortoises. “Is something wrong?”
She couldn’t answer directly. There wasn’t anything wrong, but the power of the caves could be very strong. She’d never known others to enter without a native Petaybean, usually someone like Clodagh, beside them.
Catching her concern, Sky scrambled onto the bank and dashed after the Honus. Otters belong to this world. Otters can show the Honus the world, and the world the Honus.
Well, so could river seals. She and Ronan were the emissaries, after all. Keep the Ke boys here, Ro. I’ll change in the cave.
The Honus and Sky were no longer in the outer cave. Murel shook herself off and loosened the harness holding her dry suit, climbing quickly into it. She followed the padding of ponderous Honu feet and the patter of otter paws on the cave’s stone floor. Eleven leathery Honu heads craned from eleven shells, and eleven pairs of eyes widened as the heads swayed back and forth, taking in the cave. Sky ran circles around them, chattering away about how this was much better—hundreds and hundreds better—than the caves back on their old world.
You tell the Honus too, Murel, Sky said when he saw her. Tell them how our world is better.
She sat on one of the stone benches and shook her head. You’re doing a great job, Sky. River seals don’t tell these things any better than otters.
That was true, of course, though she knew she probably would have mentioned more things the Honus might like and less about how very tasty the fish and river grasses were and how many wonderful muddy places there were to slide in the winter and icy ones in the summer.
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