A Fire Upon the Deep

Johanna Olsndot had advanced to stand just behind them. Only fourteen is she? Ravna reached a hand toward her. "From what I hear, you were a rescue force all by yourself."

Woodcarver's voice came from the wagon. "Johanna was that. She changed our world."

Ravna gestured up the ship's ramp, at the glow of the interior lighting. "Pham's up there?"

The girl started to nod, was preempted by the pack of puppies. "Yes, he is. He and the Pilgrim are up there." The pups disentangled themselves and started up the steps, one remaining behind to tug Ravna toward the ramp. She started after them, with Jefri close beside her.

"Who is this pack?" she said abruptly to Jefri, pointing to the puppies.

The boy stopped in surprise. "Amdi of course."

"I'm sorry," Jefri's voice came from the puppies. "I've talked to you so much, I forget you don't know — " There was a chorus of tones and chords that ended in a human giggle. She looked down at the bobbing heads, and was certain the little devil was quite aware of his misrepresentations. Suddenly a mystery was solved. "Pleased to meet you," she said, angered and charmed at the same time. "Now — "

"Right, there are much more important things now." The pack continued to hop up the stairs. "Amdi" seemed to alternate between shy sadness and manic activity. "I don't know what they're up to. They kicked us out as soon as we showed them around."

Ravna followed the pack, Jefri close behind. It didn't sound like anything was going on. The interior of the dome was like a tomb, echoing with the talk of the few packs who guarded it. But here, halfway up the steps, even those sounds were muted, and there was nothing coming through the hatch at the top. "Pham?"

"He's up there." It was Johanna, at the base of the stairs. She and Woodcarver were looking up at them. She hesitated, "I'm not sure if he's okay. After the battle, he — he seemed strange."

Woodcarver's heads weaved about, as if she were trying to get a good look at them through the glare of the hatch lights. "The acoustics in this ship of yours are awful. How can humans stand it?"

Amdi: "Ah, it's not so bad. Jefri and I spent lots of time up here. I got used to it." Two of his heads were pushing at the hatch. "I don't know why Pham and Pilgrim kicked us out; we could have stayed in the other room and been real quiet."

Ravna stepped carefully between the pack's lead puppies and pounded on the hull metal. It wasn't hard-latched; now she could hear the ship's ventilation. "Pham, what progress?"

There was a rustling sound and the click of claws. The hatch slid partway back. Bright, flickering light spilled down the ramp. A single doggy head appeared. Ravna could see white all around its eyes. Did that mean anything? "Hi," it said. "Uh, look. Things are a bit tense just now. Pham -I don't think Pham should be bothered."

Ravna slipped her hand past the gap. "I'm not here to bother him. But I am coming in." How long we've fought for this moment. How many billions have died along the way. And now some talking dog tells me things are a bit tense.

The Pilgrim looked down at her hand. "Okay." He slid the hatch far enough open to let her through. The pups were quick around her heels, but they recoiled before the Pilgrim's glance. Ravna didn't notice…

The "ship" was scarcely more than a freight container, a cargo hull. The cargo this time — the coldsleep boxes — had been removed, leaving a mostly level floor, dotted with hundreds of fittings.

All this she scarcely noticed. It was the light, the thing that held her. It grew out from the walls and gathered almost too bright to bear at the center of the hold. Its shape changed and changed again, the colors shifting from red to violet to green. Pham sat crosslegged by the apparition, within it. Half his hair was burned away. His hands and arms were shivering, and he mumbled in some language she didn't recognize. Godshatter. Two times it had been the companion to disaster. A dying Power's madness… and now it was the only hope. Oh Pham.

Ravna took a step toward him, felt jaws close on her sleeve. "Please, he mustn't be disturbed." The one that was holding her arm was a big dog, battle-scarred. The rest of the pack — Pilgrim — all faced inwards on Pham. The savage stared at her, somehow saw the anger rising in her face. Then the pack said, "Look ma'am, your Pham's in some sort of fugue state, all the normal personality traded for computation."