With that information in hand, David activated the remote timer program for the destruction of all but the base at Cave Bay. If they lucked out and the invaders bypassed them, he could cancel it. Fat chance, he told himself. Aloud he said, "That is the hardest thing I've ever had to do."

Yukiko nodded. "Let's hope they leave without moving insystem. Given the descriptions from Gem, they're not remotely an aquatic life-form. And if it's living space they're looking for, they won't find much here."

An exercise in false hope, she chided herself. Without a fly-by, the intruders wouldn't know that Maritimus was an ocean world without a single real continent. And if they came close enough for a flyby… Even parked a few billion miles out, they'd have picked up the base's electronics signature as soon as they emerged from hyperspace. They'd know there was technology here. And judging from Tagus and Gem, they'd come in with death and destruction on their minds.

"I'm going down and let the dolphs know," she said. "We can't leave without telling them."

"Go ahead," David answered, then turned and left the room. The house was cantilevered over the inlet, some fifty feet above the Tufftile dock where Submersible 1 lay secured. The rear of the house, however, opened on the cliff top, where a three-walled shelter of deep-jade Tuffglass housed their travel scooter. He took their bags to it in two trips, loading them in the already half-filled luggage compartment.

On the first luggage trip, he saw the Kwongs' scooter start off across the inlet. Now everyone except himself and Yukiko were at or on their way to Cave Bay. After the second load, he returned to the deck and looked down through a Tuffglass panel at Submersible 1. Its hatch was open: Yukiko was still talking to the dolphs via the speaker. While waiting, he found himself fidgeting, and wondered why. It would take hours for invader ships to arrive by warpdrive. Finally Yukiko emerged, shut the hatch behind her, and started for the stairs. David went back to the scooter and activated the AG.

Two minutes later, she came out carrying a padded beverage basket. "Brandy," she said, holding it up. "In case we have something to celebrate, or for nightcaps if we don't." She put it in the luggage carrier, then climbed into the cab. Their weight, when they sat down, activated the restraint fields in their seats. David's fingers tapped a brief instruction, then at his practiced touch on the joystick, the scooter rose slightly, moving out of the shelter.

When they were clear, he accelerated, the scooter curving smoothly out over the inlet. Yukiko looked down past her feet at dark water. So much to learn here, she told herself, and so much potential. She wondered if they'd ever come back. It seemed to her she should have been incarnated a dolphin. Maybe next life.

So far they'd found no evidence that Maritimus had any sapient native life-form: terrestrial, aquatic, or avian. But they'd released thirty dolphins to assist in a survey of native marine life, and Yukiko was-or had been-in charge. Now she felt as if she were running out on them. But the dolphs were smart and resourceful, and they knew the situation.

The scooter had crossed the inlet, and they were low over Dolerite Point, when Yukiko became aware of the cold. She frowned. "David… " she began.

"I feel it," he answered, and tapped brief instructions to the scooter, his eyes on the resulting heads-up display. "It's the AG cooling system," he said. It was almost the only thing that went wrong with scooters.

"Can we make it to Cave Bay?"

"We'd better." He veered the scooter out over the ocean's edge. If the drive shut down, they wouldn't be able to stay aloft for long; they'd coast down on whatever azimuth they'd been flying, modified by the wind. With considerable momentum and no control at all. And if they were over the rugged coast when they hit, they'd likely be killed.

Yukiko switched her microphone on. "This is Yukiko," she said. "Dennis, we're on our way, but we're having AG trouble. We're on our way, but having AG trouble. Do you read me? Over."

Dennis Bertrand was their licensed hyperspace navigator, stationed at Cave Bay. His wife, Ju-Li, was the attendant of the project's savant, who was also her baby sister. "This is Bertrand," he said. "I read you, Yukiko, loud and clear. Marcel is about a dozen miles south of here. I'll have him turn back and follow you in, just in case. Over."

"Thank you, Dennis. Yukiko out."

David set a course that would keep them near the shore without taking them over land till they crossed Cedar Point. After Cedar Point they'd have a straight shot over water to the Cousteau in its cave. If we get that far, he thought. The cab was getting really chilly.

He'd barely thought it before the drive choked, nearly died, cutting back in just long enough that he initiated a turn shoreward. Then it cut out entirely, leaving the turn incomplete. Bracing himself, David opened the door on his side. He wanted to keep it open just a little, like an off-center drag chute, to complete his shoreward turn by air resistance. Which was stronger than he'd anticipated. He hadn't tightened his restraint field, and the door jerked him half out of the scooter. For a moment his joints turned to water. His mind knew that the restraint field, even lax as he'd left it, would keep him from being pulled out, but his body didn't believe it. Then the handle ripped free of his clutch, and the door banged back against the scooter's side. But not before nudging the craft almost directly toward the rocky shore. Heart still hammering, he tightened his restraint field.

They were losing elevation more rapidly now. Marcel wouldn't get to them till well after they were in the drink, and with the decay of the scooter's residual AG, they wouldn't stay afloat long. Punching the fat mayday switch in front of him, David let anyone within range know they were about to crash. Some distance ahead, surf raised on a rocky shelf, to slam against massive basalt blocks fallen from the cliffs behind it. Ahead to their right, a low rocky islet stood just above the sea.

"Yukiko," David said, "open your door. And hang onto it as hard as you can!"

She realized what he had in mind, and didn't hesitate. She cracked the door, and instantly the air jerked it wide. Her seat restraint field held her securely if resiliently. The door jerked her shoulder muscles painfully before tearing from her grasp. Now they were headed almost toward the islet, though well short of it. "David," she said, "the seat cushions… "

She didn't finish; he already knew. Holding their breath, they stared at the onrushing water. David shut his eyes, felt the scooter hit, skip, hit again, skip again, and again, each skip shorter than the one before. One final time it struck, nosing into a swell, jarring hard, then stopped. Their restraint fields had eased the shock while pressing the breath out of them.

David's eyes had popped open, and he pushed his restraint release, then looked at Yukiko. She was already free of hers. Water was spilling in over their feet. A touch on the control panel slid the cab's tinted hood back. A swell lifted them. David rose from his seat, snatched up its cushion and thrust his arms into the straps. "Go!" he shouted, and jumped.

In the water, another swell raised them. Beside him and slightly ahead, the scooter lifted again, less buoyant now. His eyes found Yukiko perhaps fifteen feet away and slightly to his rear as the swell left them behind. When the next swell lifted them, they saw waves breaking on the point of the small islet, ahead and a little to their right. The scooter would be carried past it, toward the surf crashing on the rocks some three hundred yards ahead.

"Swim for the island!" he shouted. "Don't let yourself be carried past it." Then he began kicking his feet, swimming toward it himself. Marcel will find us, he thought. And if he doesn't, the surf may be less dangerous when the tide recedes. Not that the tides amounted to much.