Keneenk allowed this. It was the semantics that counted. If the grammar, the two-level logic, the time-orientation were Anglic, pragmatic results were all that mattered.

When Creideiki took Hikahi's report, he purposely spoke a very relaxed form of fin-Anglic. By example he wanted to say that what went on here was private.

He listened to her while he took the kinks out of his body, diving and racing back and forth across the exercise pool. Hikahi recited her report on the planetology meeting, enjoying the sweet smell of real air in her main lungs. Occasionally, she paused and sped alongside him for a stretch before continuing.

Right now her words sounded nothing like human speech, but a very good voicewriter could have translated them.

"He feels very strongly about it, Captain. In fact, Charlie suggests that we should leave a small study team here with the longboat even if Streaker tries to escape. Even Brookida is tempted by the idea. I was a bit stunned."

Creideiki passed in front of her. He burst out a quick question.

"And what would they do if we left them behind, and we were then captured?" He dove back underwater and sped on toward the far wall.

"Charlie thinks he and a detached team could be declared noncombatants, and the Sudman-Sah'ot group out on the island, as well. He says there are precedents. That way, whether we get away or not, part of the mission is preserved."

The exercise room was in Streakers centrifugal ring, ten degrees up the side of the wheel. The walls were canted and Creideiki had to watch out for shallows in the pool's port side. A cluster of balls, rings, and complex toys floated to starboard.

Creideiki swam quickly under a cluster of balls and shot out of the water. He spun as he sailed through the air and landed on his back with a splash. He did a flip underwater, then rose up above the surface on his churning tail. Breathing heavily, he regarded Hikahi with one eye.

"I've considered the idea already," he said. "We could leave Metz and his records, too. Getting him off our tails would be worth thirty herring and an anchovy dessert."

He settled back down into the water. "Too bad the solution is immoral and impractical."

Hikahi looked puzzled, trying to figure his meaning.

Creideiki felt much better. The frustration which had built to a peak when he listened to Tom Orley's message had now abated. He could put aside, for a while, the depression he felt when he agreed to the man's plan.

All that remained was to get the formal advice of the ship's council. He prayed they'd come up with a better idea, though he doubted they would.

"Think," he asked his lieutenant. "Declaring noncombatants might work if we are killed or captured, but what if we escape, and draw our ET friends chasing after us?"

Hikahi's jaw dropped open slightly — a borrowed human mannerism. "Of course. I hear it. Kthsemenee is so very isolated. There are only a few routes in and out. The longboat probably couldn't make it back to civilization all alone."

"Which would mean?"

"They would become castaways, on a deadly planet, with minimal medical facilities. Forgive my lack of foresight."

She turned slightly, presenting her left ventral fin. It was a civilized version of an ancient gesture of submission, such as a human student's sheepish bowed head to his teacher.

With luck, Hikahi would someday command ships greater than Streaker by orders of magnitude. The captain and teacher within him was pleased with her combination of modesty and cleverness. But another part of him had more immediate goals for her.

"Well, we'll take their idea under advisement. In case we have to adopt the plan quickly, see to stocking the longboat.

"But put a guard on it, too."

They both knew that it was a bad sign, when security precautions had to be taken within, as well as without.

A brightly striped rubber ring floated past them. Creideiki felt an urge to chase it… as he wanted to push Hikahi into a corner and nuzzle her until… He shook himself.

"As for further tectonic research," he said. "That's out of the question. Gillian Baskin has left for your island, to take supplies to Thomas Orley and to help Dennie Sudman study the aboriginals. When she returns, she can bring back rock samples for Charlie. That'll have to satisfy him.

"The rest of us will be very busy as soon as Suessi gets back here with those spare parts."

"Suessi's sure he found what we need at the wreck?"

"Fairly certain."

"This new plan means we'll have to move Streaker. Turning on our engines may give us away. But I guess there's no choice. I'll get started on a plan to move the ship."

Creideiki realized that this was getting him nowhere. A few hours remained, at most, until Suessi arrived, and here he was talking to Hikahi in Anglic… forcing her by example to think rigidly and carefully! No wonder he was getting no hint, no body language, no suggestion that an advance might be welcomed or rejected.

He answered her in Trinary.

* We'll only move her -

Below water

* To the crashed ship -

Empty, waiting

* Soon, while battles -

Still wrack the blackness

* Filling space -

With squid-like racket

* At a time when -

Orley, Net-bane,

* Far away, does

Make

Distraction

* Far away, does

Truth

Decipher

* Drawing sharks -

To make us safer *

Hikahi stared at him. This was the first time she had heard about that part of Orley's plan. Like many of the females aboard, Hikahi had a platonic passion for Thomas Orley.

I should have broken the news more gently, or, better yet, waited until later!

Her eyes blinked, once, twice, then closed. She sank slowly, and from her forehead melon came a faint keening.

Creideiki envied humans their enfolding arms. He dropped alongside her to touch her with the tip of his bottle-shaped rostrum.

* Do not grieve for -

Strong-eyed flyer

* Orley's song shall -

By whales be sung

Hikahi replied sadly.

* I, Hikahi -

Honor Orley

* Honor captain -

Honor crewmates

* Deeds are done, still -

For one I suffer -

For Jill Baskin -

Dear Life-Cleaner

* For her loss -

And body sorrow *

Shamed, Creideiki felt an enclosing shroud of melancholy fall around him. He shut his own eyes and the waters echoed back to him a shared sadness.

For a long time they lay side by side, rising to breathe, then settling once more below.

Creideiki's thoughts were far away when he finally felt Hikahi drift away. But then she was back, rubbing gently against his side, and then nibbling tenderly with sharp, small teeth.

Almost against his will, at first, Creideiki felt his enthusiasm begin to return. He rolled over to his side and let out a long sigh of bubbles as her nuzzling became more provocative.

The water began to taste happier then, as Hikahi crooned a familiar song, taken from one of the oldest of Primal signals. It seemed to say, amongst other things, "Life goes on."