Hikahi grinned and flicked a small splash of water on the youth with her lower jaw.

* Duty, duty

Brave shark-biter

* What reward

Could taste better?

Toshio blushed and nodded.

The skiff started to move again. Keepiru was back in the pilot's saddle. Creideiki and Sah'ot chattered excitedly in a semi-Primal rhythm which still sent shivers down Hikahi's spine. And Sah'ot had said that Creideiki was toning it down on purpose!

She was still getting used to the idea that Creideiki's injury might have been a door opening, rather than a closing.

The skiff lifted from the sea and began to speed eastward, following Creideiki's hunch.

"What about passenger morale?" Hikahi asked Toshio.

"Well, I guess it's all right. That pair of Kiqui are happy so long as they're with Dennie. And Dennie's happy… well, she's happy enough for now."

Hikahi was amused. Why should the youth be embarrassed about Dennie's other preoccupation? She was glad the two young humans had each other, as she had Creideiki.

In spite of his new, eerie side, Creideiki was the same dolphin. The newness was something he used, something he seemed only to have begun exploring. He could hardly speak, but he conveyed his great intellect — and his caring — in other ways.

"What about Charlie?" she asked Toshio.

Toshio sighed. "He's still embarrassed."

They had found the chimp a day after the great earthquakes, clinging to a floating tree-trunk, sopping wet. He had been unable to speak for ten hours, and had kept climbing the walls in the skiff's tiny hold until he finally calmed down.

Charlie finally admitted that he had scrambled to the top of a tall tree just before the island blew. It had saved his life, but the stereotype mortified him.

Toshio and Hikahi crowded in behind Keepiru's station and watched as the ocean rolled swiftly beneath the skiff. For minutes at a time the sea turned a brilliant green as they passed over great swatches of vine. The little boat sped toward the sun.

They had been searching for almost a week, ever since Streaker had departed.

First found had been Toshio, swimming purposefully westward, never giving up. Then Dennie had led them to another island where there was a tribe of Kiqui. While she negotiated another treaty, they searched for and found Charles Dart.

Takkata-Jim's Stenos were all missing or dead.

After that had come one last, and apparently forlorn, search. They had been at this last phase for several days now.

Hikahi was about to give up. They couldn't go on wasting time and consumables like this. Not with the journey they had ahead of them.

Not that they really had much of a chance. No one had ever heard of a voyage like they planned. A cross-Galactic journey in the skiff would make Captain Bligh's epic crossing of the Pacific in the Bounty's longboat seem like an afternoon jaunt.

She kept her appraisal to herself, though. Creideiki and Keepiru probably understood what lay ahead of them. Toshio seemed to have guessed part of it already. There was no reason to inform the others until they had to cut the rations for the fourth time.

She sighed.

* Of what else

Are heroes made

* Than men and women

Who, like us,

* Try — *

Keepiru's fluting call of triumph was like a shrill trumpet. He squawled and tossed on his platform. The skiff rolled left and right in a wiggle-waggle, then went into a screaming climb.

"What the f — !!" Toshio stopped himself, "Holy jumping turtle-fish, Keepiru! What is it?"

Hikahi used a harness arm to grab a wall stanchion, and looked out a port. She sighed for a third time, long and deep.

The smoke from his fire momentarily hid the boat from sight. The first he knew of it was the sonic boom that rolled over him, nearly knocking over his drying racks.

The human standing on the woven reed mat almost dove for cover, but a hunch made him stop and look up instead.

His eyes were sun-squinted. Crow's-feet that had not been there a few weeks before lay at the corners. His beard was black with thin gray flecks. It had grown out and nearly stopped itching. It almost covered a ragged scar that ran down one cheek.

Shading his eyes, he recognized the wild maneuvers before he did the outlines of the tiny ship. It streaked high into the sky and looped about, coming back to screech past him again.

He reached out to steady the drying racks against the thunder. No sense in letting the meat go to waste. It had taken a lot of work to harvest it, strip it, and prepare it. They might need it for the voyage ahead.

He wasn't sure how the fen would take to the stuff, but it was nourishing… the only food on the planet that an Earthling could eat.

Gubru jerky, Tandu strips, and flayed Episiarch would never make it into haute cuisine, of course. But perhaps they were an acquired taste.

He grinned and waved as Keepiru finally calmed down enough to bring the skiff to a halt nearby.

How could I ever have doubted he'd still he alive? Hikahi wondered, joyfully. Gillian said he had to live. None of the Galactics could ever touch him. How could they?

And why, in the wide universe, was I ever worried about getting home?

Epilog

: Rest : Rest And Listen :

: Rest And Listen And Learn, Creideiki :

: For The Startide Rises :

: In The Currents Of The Dark :

: And We Have Waited Long, For What Must Be :

Dolphin names often sound as if they are Polynesian or Japanese. In some cases this is true. In general, however, the neo-fin chooses for a name a sound he likes, usually a polysyllabic word with strong alternating vowels and consonants.

In Anglic, the words "man," "men," and "mankind" apply to humans without reference to gender. On those occasions when gender is important, a female human is referred to as a "fem," and a male human as a "mel."

Dolphin languages are the author's invention, and are not meant to represent the communication of natural dolphins and whales today. We are only beginning to understand the place of the cetaceans in the world, as we are just beginning to understand our own.

The author wishes to thank all those who helped with this work, with their advice and criticism and encouragement, especially Mark Grygier, Anita Everson, Patrick Maher, Rick and Pattie Harper, Ray Feist, Richard Spahl, Tim LaSelle, Ethan Munson, and, as always, Dan Brin. Lou Aronica and Tappan King of Bantam Books were most helpful with encouragement when morale was lowest.

The translated haiku by Yosa Buson were from An Anthology of Japanese Literature, compiled and edited by Donald Keene, published by Grove Press.

The world's many paths diverge, in both reality and imagination. The creatures of this novel are all fanciful. But it may happen that some of our fellow mammals will one day be our partners. We owe it to that possible future to let their potential survive.

— DAVID BRIN

August 1982