Authors: Anne McCaffrey
Well, that’s all right,
the alpha whale said.
By and large your sort have treated us well enough here, and you’re not all that tasty—so it’s said. Wouldn’t know personally, of course.
Sean was pleased. They seemed to be on very good terms in spite of a potentially hostile situation. He felt that the alpha whale and the others were being truthful insofar as they understood the truth.
Yana cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at him and he nodded and made a hand sign for her to be patient just a bit longer.
Of course,
he said.
But now that we understand each other better, I want to ask you all to think if you can remember what happened just before nobody ate my kids and the otter.
That’s a bit more difficult,
the alpha whale said. Sean could feel the whole pod, spurred by their keen instinct for survival in the face of a massively mucked-up situation, giving thought to his inquiry.
Did you for instance notice the sea turtles swimming after my son?
Sean asked, probing.
Well, no, we wouldn’t have noticed those, would we?
Bitfin replied.
We were circling at the time, you see. Using the sonar to confuse the prey—I mean, your calf, not that we knew she was your calf, as we said. By the way, she has teeth. Very sharp indeed.
What Bitfin means to say,
a whale thought-form that was distinctly feminine interjected,
is that our attention was directed inward, toward your calf and each other. I did not see turtles or another seal or an otter, just that bubbly whirlpool thing before Bitfin’s tail blocked my view.
What was that?
the alpha whale, eager to get to the bottom of this and leading the pod away, asked.
I was up near the surface. Seemed a bit turbulent there for a bubble or two, and next thing I knew, we were all bumping into each other and the seal was nowhere to be seen or heard.
I couldn’t tell,
Bitfin said with true regret.
You see, I opened my mouth to bite, and you know how it is when you open wide, you can’t see the morsel anymore. You sense them, feel them there, but you don’t see them. She was there, she was trying to get away, I open me gob, but when I bit down I nearly break a tooth gnashing them against each other. There was a tickling at my chin, a feeling something was whirling.
The whirlpool thing,
another female said.
I was down below Bitfin and could barely see the prey—sorry, the calf—as it was, but I saw a bit of flipper. Then all of a sudden there was nothing but whirly water in my face and we were scattering. I did—
She hesitated, then continued more tentatively,
I did get the feeling that there was something inside the water. And of course, that might have been the calf, mightn’t it? Almost had to have been, come to think of it. Still, it seemed to me there was something larger there, something not afraid to come into a pod of us in feeding frenzy. I think we were right to scatter when we did.
Sean could not decide if this was good news or bad.
CHAPTER 15
R
ONAN CHANGED COURSE,
deciding it wasn’t a good idea to attack a pod of killer whales even to save his sister. Instead, he dived deep, thinking to intercept whatever it was rising from the ocean floor. If it was an additional threat, well, at least he’d have done
something
before making a sealburger of himself. Sky followed, peering inquisitively into the incredibly turbulent murk directly in front of them. Then the whirling cone swallowed the otter. Ronan followed half a length behind. Once inside it, there was nothing to see but a strange glow illuminating its midst.
They looked up, where the whales had been.
No Murel!
Sky said. Then,
No whales.
He was right. Light from the surface suddenly replaced the hunting shadows looming above them. Something else was there for a moment, blocking part of the view, but they couldn’t tell what it was except for more whirling debris and bubbles. No blood, though. No . . . scraps.
Ronan was startled from that gruesome thought by something gyrating past them, almost taking the fur from his skin as it whirled wildly toward the ocean floor.
Below, the faint glow brightening the murk had turned into a spinning column of clean water beaming with light as if from fire at its core.
A speck of darkness was silhouetted against it.
Murel?
he called.
Sky’s reactions were quicker.
That looks like fun, Murel! Otters like fun! Watch out! Here comes Sky!
The otter streaked past in a brown blur and plunged into the center of the column.
Hey, wait!
Ronan protested, and not to be outdone by the daredevil otter, plunged after him, diving ever downward. The light blinded him as the spinning water sucked him into its vortex.
M
UREL
? S
IS
? Y
OU
okay?
At some point while whirling around in the waterspout, Ronan had lost consciousness. He awoke lying next to his sister on a hard surface. He had the feeling they were enclosed, and when he sent a sonar probe, it told him he and Murel were surrounded by walls. Not sea grotto, but real walls, like the ones in their cabin.
Ro?
Her thought-voice was shaky and scared.
Am I—did the whales bite off a very big piece of me? It doesn’t hurt yet.
The sonar probe had revealed an entire seal lying next to him, not a maimed one, so he felt safe saying,
I don’t think the whales even touched you. This weird underwater waterspout typhoon thingy pulled you out from under them. I dived in after you.
Thanks.
No problem, really, any time. I’m glad we were in seal form, though, because if we’d been human I’d have wet my pants.
You’re not the only one!
She stirred, sat up.
Where are we?
I dunno, but not to worry, Da is on his way.
How?
I called him. Guess he wasn’t too far off when he heard me. Or maybe he heard you first. Anyway, all we have to do is sit tight and wait. He’ll find us.
I just wish I knew where we were.
He rose too and began to explore their confinement. Small, maybe ten by ten, bare. And it felt made. Like man-made, only what man would make something down here? He’d read about shipwrecks and sunken vessels on other planets, but Petaybee had yet to develop an active shipping industry.
Petaybee . . . well sure.
Duh,
he said.
The planet saved us. It didn’t want the whales to eat you so it made this waterspout that sucked us into it.
And into a room?
Murel was exploring too.
Is there a door?
Do we want to know what’s behind it if there is?
As they spoke, one of the walls grew lighter and brighter. It also became transparent, and soon it popped out of existence altogether. A tall sleek presence stood in its place, one fish in its mouth and one in each front paw.
Are you hungry?
it asked.
Who are you?
both of them asked. But just then Sky scampered in front of the larger creature, which actually looked like an exceptionally big otter.
She’s one of the deep sea otters,
Sky told them. His paws each held a sea urchin and he still seemed to be chewing.
They made the waterspout for Murel so the whales couldn’t eat her.
Thanks,
Murel told the big otter.
I bet you, uh, folks are getting tired of saving selkies. First our da and now us.
Yeah,
Ronan added,
we’re glad to see you’re okay. We were afraid the volcano got you.
Deep sea otters like volcanoes,
said the deep sea otter, sounding a lot like Sky, except somehow more feminine.
We like living under them.
Must get hot,
Ronan said.
In spite of being grateful to the deep sea otters, Murel couldn’t help feeling this tall creature was in disguise and mimicking Sky. She was an otter impersonator, Murel was sure. The so-called deep sea otters who had rescued Da hadn’t talked like Sky at all. And though they never showed themselves, they didn’t “feel” like otters. Besides, otters were mammals, and it wasn’t scientifically possible for real otters to survive totally immersed in water all the time, not to mention under volcanoes.
Your father is well?
the otter asked. Most unotterly again. The otters she knew, Sky included, always assumed everyone and everything was well until clearly proven not to be.
He’s looking for us,
Ronan told her.
He’ll be here soon and can thank you for saving him and us as well.
Have a fish,
she said, again proffering the ones in her paws.
Thanks again,
Murel said, and snapped it down. She’d been through quite a bit and, otter impersonator or not, she needed to keep up her strength.
You may go out to him when he comes for you, but for now you seals must stay with deep sea otters,
she said, most of her speech again sounding unotterly. Then she added,
Whales, you know.
Murel’s skin shivered all down the length of her spine.
I know,
she said, accepting a second fish that had somehow appeared in the paw when the first one vanished.
Are we inside your city now? Didn’t it get destroyed during the eruption?
No. Our city is designed to withstand the living force of the planet. To us and our habitat, volcanoes give life. And yes, you are safe in our city now.
She means their den,
Sky said. The concept of a city was still not one he understood. Kilcoole was the biggest settlement on the northern pole of Petaybee and it was still little more than a Nakatira-cube-enhanced village.
It is a big den. Hundreds of holes. These deep sea otters are very big, so they cannot all fit in one hole.
Though the twins hadn’t felt as if they were floating inside the room, it occurred to them that they were still in the depths of the sea and that water—or something similar—was all around them. It was very clear. All they had to do was to think about swimming and they could swim instead of staying on the floor. What was that all about?
The tall otter, who stood on her hind paws during their conversation, stepped aside, inviting them to leave their temporary harbor.
They were in the strange city they had seen only from the outside before. The multicolored lights streaming from the top of the tallest buildings to the bottom of those at sea floor level were less apparent inside, where you could only see a few at a time, glowing first in one place then another. They looked more random than they had from outside the protective bubble that cloaked the city in what seemed to be a protective force field. The first time the twins had seen it, Ronan tried to swim into the city from several angles but hadn’t been able to get inside.
Our security system,
the tall otter explained, picking up his thought.
I didn’t realize otters had them,
Ronan said.
Most do not. You are bright youngsters. It will not have escaped your notice that we are rather more evolved than other varieties of otters.
What is evolved?
Sky asked.
More developed,
Murel told him, unsure how to further explain it with images he would understand.
Like living in cities instead of regular dens.
Regular dens are nice,
Sky said, puzzled.
Otters can build new ones when they get messy or filled with water or if we want to go somewhere else.
But although making dens is natural for river and sky otters,
Murel said,
these otters use things that are not exactly natural.
Hah!
Sky said.
Sky otters fly in sky machines that are not exactly natural, and they still swim, walk, run, and slide. Sky otters are evolved too.
And evolving more all the time,
Murel agreed.
Besides, sky otters are real and I think this is all a dream. Ronan and I used to share dreams when we were little. This can’t be happening. Some of those other big otters are walking around the city and some of them are swimming. It doesn’t make any sense. I fell asleep in the water and then I dreamed the orcas were after me and that this big waterspout pulled me away from them at the last minute and I thought I woke up, but I’m still dreaming, really.
If I’m in the dream too,
Ronan replied,
you’re not going to believe me if I tell you this seems to be pretty real to me.
It is good that you feel that way,
their hostess said.
You will remember none of this when you return to the surface, so it will be much like a dream that way.
I didn’t realize otters dreamed,
Murel said.
Not to be left out, Sky said,
Sky otters dream!
then asked,
What is dream?
Stories you see after you’re asleep,
Murel said.
Oh, yes, sky otters do that. So do river otters. I do not know about the sea otter cousins but if river otters dream, sky otters dream, and deep sea otters dream, then sea otters must dream too.
Ronan asked the tall otter,
Do you have a name? And why do your people—otters, I mean—like living near volcanoes so much?
You may call me Kushtaka,
she said.
We live near volcanoes for the power of their life force, for the food they provide, and because we have always done so.
Kushtaka?
Murel asked.
But that’s the name for—
She decided against finishing the thought. Kushtaka was an archaic word brought to Petaybee by Eskimo and Indian ancestors who believed there were whole communities of otters, called Kushtaka, that could steal souls. If she had been in human form at that time, looking into this Kushtaka’s cool appraising gaze would have sent goose bumps up her arms.
Yes?
Kushtaka asked.
Er—it’s another name we have for otters. Not specific otters, I mean, just otters in general. I thought deep sea otters, since you seem quite different from your smaller cousins, might be called something different. But then, you’re the first one we’ve ever met so we have no way of knowing really.
She was aware that she was chattering on and on, her thoughts tumbling over each other to keep her real thoughts and fears from surfacing. She wanted to ask a lot of things, but she was afraid if she did and learned the answers to her questions, the deep sea otters wouldn’t let her and Ronan leave. But then, well, Kushtaka had said they were going to wipe out the visitors’ memories of this place. That was probably what had happened to Da’s memories when they took care of him. Murel continued to feel very strongly that whatever these creatures were, they were not otters, Petaybean or any other kind. She wanted to ask why they were pretending to be, but that was rude since it amounted to calling them liars.
You use geothermals to power all of this?
Ronan asked, looking around at the towering spires, the spiraling towers, the domes, the thousands rather than hundreds of what certainly seemed to be entrances or doorways. Glancing back, he saw that the room they had been in, the one in which the wall had dissolved rather than a door opening, also appeared to have a hole-shaped doorway, which seemed odd. Many of the doorways seemed open to lots of traffic, with other large otters swimming or walking around the city, some carrying food items, some carrying other less easily identifiable objects.
Where do you live, Kushtaka?
Murel asked. Although she didn’t trust this creature, she felt they needed to make friends with her. After all, her folk had saved Da and now them. They certainly couldn’t be evil.
Do you have—
She started to think “a mate,” but then remembered that sea otters had casual mating habits so she continued,
Any young still at home?
I have two young still living with me,
she said.
I did have a mate but he met with an accident and was killed. I do not intend to take another. Deep sea otters have their own mating customs, different from our smaller cousins.
Do deep sea otters ever mate with sky otters?
Sky wanted to know.
I have not mated yet, but soon I will need to do that and there are no other sky otters. I am the only one. Deep sea otters look interesting.
Kushtaka had no answer for a moment, then replied thoughtfully and with what Murel thought was a hint of humor,
You are small, we are large. It would not work.
Maybe a small deep sea otter?
Sky suggested, undaunted, but then he swam forward and dived into another hole and said,
Come and see this, river seals! Deep sea otters have strange hunting habits!
With assent from Kushtaka, they followed their friend into a chamber that had no ceiling and no floor but a flexible device floating in the middle. It was aimed downward, toward a broad rift in the sea’s floor. Deep within it a volcanic vent emitted a cherry-red glow, but Murel thought that might be several leagues beneath them. Between them and the cherry glow, the rift blossomed with all sorts of plant and animal life.