A Fire Upon the Deep

"Where would you like to sit?" he asked the Skroderider. "If we go all the way out to the surf right now, you'll be a meter underwater at high tide."

The Rider didn't reply. But all her fronds were angled toward the water now. The wheels on her skrode slipped and spun with a strange lack of coordination. "Let's take her closer," Ravna said after a moment.

They reached a fairly level stretch of coral, pocked with holes and gullies not more than a few centimeters deep. "I'll go for a swim, find a good place," Peregrine said. All of him ran down to where the coral broke the water; going for a swim was not something you did by parts. Heh heh. Fact was, damn few mainland packs could swim and think at the same time. Most mainlanders thought that there was a craziness in water. Now Peregrine knew it was simply the great difference in sound speed between air and water. Thinking with all tympana immersed must be a little like using the radio cloaks: it took discipline and practice to do it, and some were never able to learn. But the Island folk had always been great swimmers, using it for meditation. Ravna even thought the Packs might be descended from of whales!

Peregrine came to the edge of the coral and looked down. Suddenly the surf did not seem a completely friendly thing. He would soon find out if Rum's spirit and his own memories of swimming were up to the real thing. He pulled off his jackets.

All at once. It's best done all at once. He gathered himself and plopped awkwardly into the water. Confusion, heads out and in. Keep all under. He paddled about, holding all his heads down. Every few seconds, he'd poke a single nose into the air and refresh that member. I still can do it! The six of him slipped through swarms of squidlets, dived separately through arching green fronds. The hiss of the sea was all around, like the mindsound of a vast sleeping pack.

After a few minutes he'd found a nice level spot, sand all about and shielded from the worst fury of the sea. He paddled back to where the sea crashed against stony coral… and almost broke some legs scrambling out. It was just impossible to exit all at once, and for a few moments it was every member for itself. "Hei, over here!" He shouted to Greenstalk and Ravna. He sat licking at coral cuts as they crossed the white rock. "Found a place, more peaceful than this — " He waved at the crash and spray.

Greenstalk rolled a little closer to the edge, then hesitated. Her fronds turned back and forth along the curving sweep of the shore. Does she need help? Pilgrim started forward, but Ravna just sat down beside the Rider and leaned against the wheeled platform. After a moment, Pilgrim joined them. They sat for a time, human looking out to the sea, Rider looking he wasn't sure quite where, and pack looking in most all directions… There was peace here, even with (or because of?) the booming surf and the haze of spray. He felt his hearts slowing, and just lazed in the sunlight. On every pelt the drying sea water was leaving a glittery powder of salt. Grooming himself tasted good at first, but… yech, too much dry salt was one of the bad memories. Greenstalk's fronds settled lightly across him, too fine and narrow to provide much shade, but a light and gentle comfort.

They sat for a long while — long enough so that later some of Pilgrims noses were blistered, and even darkskinned Ravna was sun burned.

The Rider was humming now, a sort of song that after long minutes came to be speech. "It is a good sea, a good edge. It is what I need now. To sit and think at my own pace for a while."

And Ravna said, "How long? We will miss you." That was not just politeness. Everyone would miss her. Even in her mind adrift, Greenstalk was the expert on OOB's surviving automation.

"Long by your measure, I fear. A few decades…" She watched (?) the waves a few minutes more. "I am eager to get down there. Ha ha. Almost like a human in that… Ravna, you know my memories are muddled now. I had two hundred years with Blueshell. Sometimes he was petty and a little spineful, but he was a great trader. We had many wonderful times. And at the end even you could see his courage."

Ravna nodded.

"We found a terrible secret on this last journey. I think that hurt him as much as the final… burning. I am grateful to you for protecting us. Now I want to think, to let the surf and the time work with my memories and sort them out. Maybe if this poor imitation skrode is up to it, I'll even make a chronicle of our quest."