Of Man and Manta Omnibus

by Piers Anthony

  All loose equipment was in the cabin, and that tiny enclosure was tied together and sealed as well as limited time and resource permitted; but Cal retained grave doubts about the outcome of this jaunt. He was not afraid of death - actually, he rather approved of it as a natural institution - but disliked contemplating the premature termination of the young lives of those who had befriended him. And there was the group's mission to be considered: the charting of life on this Paleocene planet. Better to die after the mysteries of this world had been fathomed and the report made; then the effort would not have been wasted.

  Veg took over Cal's oar as soon as they were out of poling depth, and Cal moved gratefully to the rudder. This was little more than a paddle tied between two projecting logs, and in view of the Nacre's overall clumsiness seemed almost useless. But they did make steady if tedious progress toward the open sea.

  They had hardly gotten far enough before their time was up. Cal had carefully directed them away from the direction Circe indicated for the oncoming tsunami, so that the island stood between them and it. He hoped they would thereby escape the worst of it even though the water was still too shallow for safety. The swell should bear them away from land, rather than into the turbulence of the shallows.

  The time came - and nothing happened. 'False alarm,'

  Aquilon announced, sounding uncertain whether to be annoyed or relieved.

  'Not necessarily so,' Cal cautioned her. 'The first signs of the typical tsunami are inconspicuous. A very small rise in the rater level, followed by a deeper trough. But the second or bird real wave shows its full mischief. Keep paddling.'

  Aquilon looked dubiously at the serene island behind them. 'I somehow thought a tidal wave was a tall wall of water striking without warning,' she said.

  'That may be true enough, for those on land who aren't for the signals. Of course "tidal wave" is a misnomer. The phenomenon has nothing to do with the tides.'

  Veg kept paddling.

  Fifteen minutes passed placidly. They nudged farther into the ocean.

  'Are you sure - ?' Aquilon inquired.

  'Of course I'm not sure,' he told her. 'It is possible that we misunderstood what Circe was trying to tell us. It is also true that most tsunamis are not serious affairs; that depends on the severity of the incitation and its distance from the observer's situation.'

  'Now he tells us,' Veg muttered.

  'However, Circe was alarmed, and I suspect she had good reason,' Cal said. 'Because of the masses of water involved, the waves may be over a hundred miles apart. I wouldn't count the danger as over until a couple more hours pass.'

  Veg shrugged and kept working on his oar. 'Quietest calamity I ever survived.'

  The four mantas had been ranging out, then returned to the raft to rest. They seemed to require frequent quiescence. Cal had never had the opportunity to watch them in action for days at a time like this, and it was instructive. On Earth he had found them a secluded island to camp out on, and had seen them only occasionally thereafter. There had never been a laboratory analysis of their metabolism, but he suspected that it was not conducive to sustained energy output of the level of Earthly animals. They were cold-blooded, for one thing. Not that their body fluid resembled blood in any chemical way or that it was actually cool - but it did suggest a basic conservation of energy. Cold temperature inhibited them; that was probably the main reason the majority had elected to stay with him in the subtropics, on Earth. They were saprophyte feeding on the breakdown of organic matter; to what extent did temperature affect their chemistry? Or were they inhibited now because they were primed to spore upon death - a state that must be equivalent to pregnancy hi a mammal? The mantas he had seen die on Nacre had not spored, since their deaths had been unexpected and they had not been primed.

  Now they were resting. Fatigue, boredom - or in preparation for some unusual stress ahead? It pained him to be so ignorant.

  Forty minutes after the scheduled arrival of the tsunami, Veg saw something. He stopped rowing and watched. The others, noting his reaction, did the same.

  It was as though a weathered mountain were rising on the horizon behind the island. The water humped up grotesquely, its main height concealed by the island foliage. Even so, the swell was not really striking; the highest point could not be much more than thirty feet above sea norm.

  We could have weathered that,' Veg remarked.

  Cal kept his peace. He knew what was coming, and his mind's eye augmented the visible traces. The wave was rising on the shallows leading up to the island, the same submarine slant they had walked up from the tunnel. from the look of it there was a fairly extensive submerged reef angling across the path of the tsunami shock wave.

  Near the island the rolling swell became a peaked wave at last, showing a tumbling white crest and emitting an increasing roar. The water formed into a vertical wall - he heard Aquilon's intake of breath - and crashed over the green landscape. A cloud of spume went up, as though a tremendous explosion had sundered the island. A rainbow appeared in the sky, tribute to the water sprayed high into the atmosphere,

  'We could have weathered that!' Aquilon said, mimicking Veg's remark without malicious intent.

  Then the misty wake was upon them. White foam surged by the raft, lifting it precariously and causing the logs to shift against each other, and bits of island debris bobbed about.

  The swell subsided and they viewed the island again. From this distance it seemed unchanged, but Cal knew that terrible havoc had been wreaked there. The mantas' warning had been valid.

  Reminded, he turned to check on their otherworld associates. Circe, Diana, Hex, and Star stood on the roof of the cabin looking miserable. They would have had difficulty running over this wave; its changing configuration and bubbly surface could easily have inundated them. Though a manta could 'walk' on water, it could not swim within it, except for very brief scoops at speed. A manta had to keep moving swiftly or entirely, when the surface was liquid. These four needed the raft more than the humans did in this instance. Yet they could have avoided the problem nicely by traveling over deep water, where the swell of the tsunami was mild. Did they feel an emotional loyalty to the human party? It always back to what he did not know about them. Right now, however, his job was this planet, not manta.

  In due course the second wave crashed over the isle. Others followed at about twenty-minute intervals, but the worst was over. The raft had saved the party.

  'I believe it is safe to return now.' Cal said at last.

  'Why?' Veg asked.

  Cal looked at him, so tousled and sweaty and strong. 'Are implying that the raft is better than a land base?' The notion was foolish: there was not room to spread his shells or them secure, let alone acquire more.

  'I'm implying we can't travel far on an island.'

  'Travel! These winds are obviously seasonal. Once we drif from this vicinity, we'll be unable to return for months.' Veg nodded.

  So it was coming into the open already: the decision to mutiny, to break contact with the Earth authorities. Not completely, for the radio equipment could keep them in touch. But since they would be unable to return if so directed...

  Veg wanted simply to isolate himself from a hateful influence, and Cal understood this entirely too well. Yet he could not so casually justify the abrogation of the mission. They were not here on any vacation, and too obvious a balk could trigger the trouble already building for them.

  In addition, if this were Paleocene Earth, the consequence of activity on the mainland could ramify appallingly. What about the paradoxes of time travel? They had not yet done anything significant, for their traces on the island would have been wiped out by the tsunami - but such good fortune could not be perpetual. What would happen when some action of theirs threatened to change the nature of their own reality? Such paradox was patently impossible - but the situation could be extremely delicate.

  'It seems to me we would have to move about a bit to gather information,' Aquilon said. 'For
a proper report, I mean. We should at least map the continents -'

  'Map the continents!' Cal knew she meant the floral and faunal features, since they already had the map, but still it was an excuse. 'That would take a full-fledged survey party several years with a cartographic satellite. And we already know what they would find.'

  'That reminds me,' she said. 'That map. How do you know -'

  'I'd have to go into paleogeography to explain that. It -'

  'Summarize it,' Veg said, irritated. He was holding his paddle and seemed anxious to use it, rather than talking. But Aquilon must have brought up this matter now in order to make sure Veg knew about it.

  Summarize the concept of drifting continents? Cal sighed inwardly. It had to be done, though, and now did seem to be the time. Now - before they committed themselves to the mainland. 'Well ... the crust of the Earth may seem solid and permanent to us today, but in fact it is boiling and moving steadily. Like the surface of a pot of cooking oatmeal (he saw

  they didn't comprehend the allusion, but let it stand), it bubbles up in some regions and cools and solidifies and sinks down in creases elsewhere. Segments of the more solid, lighter material float, collecting above the creases until large masses are built up by the action. These are the continents - or rather, the single continent, that formed billions of years ago, then broke up as the convection patterns changed, drifted, reformed. Two hundred and fifty million years ago there were two great continents, two halves separated by narrow seas: Laurasia in the north, Gondwanaland in the south. These broke up into the present continents, and changes are still occurring. In time the Americas may complete their journey across the oceans and rejoin the main land mass from the other side -'

  'Watch it,' Veg said. 'You're theorizing.'

  'Now I remember!' Aquilon said. 'They verified the continental drift by checking the magnetism of the ocean floor. The metal in the rocks that bubbled up was aligned with the magnetic poles as the material cooled and hardened, so there was a record, and they could tell where it had been when.'

  'Something like that,' Cal agreed, surprised that she had made the connection. 'There were other ways to corroborate the phenomenon, too. Computer analysis showed how certain continents, such as Australia and Antarctica, made a precise fit despite being separated by two thousand miles of water. The underlying strata also matched. All over the world, the changing continental geography could be interpolated to show the configuration for any particular period. The map I had you sketch strongly suggested the Paleocene epoch, since the major continents as we know them had only recently severed from the main masses and remained relatively close together.'

  'So where are we now - on Earth?' Veg asked.

  'Our island here is some distance off the coast of what will be known as California. In our time Western America has overridden one of the Pacific rifts and so developed the San Andreas Fault, a source of regular earthquakes. This has been an active area of the world for some time, and no doubt this tsunami stems from -'

  'We can't just sit here talking,' Veg grumbled. 'There might be another wave.'

  'And we really should take a look at California,' Aquilon said. 'The westerlies should take us right there, and I could paint some of the animal life for your report.'

  Cal perceived that she had an ulterior motive. She didn't truly comprehend something until she painted it, and she was intrigued by the notion of treading the soils of the past. She was not concerned about paradox.

  'We aren't operating as an isolated party,' he said. 'There could be consequences-'

  'Maybe we should take a vote,' Veg suggested.

  Cal already knew the outcome of that. Trust the group to revert to elementary democracy in this wilderness world. The others were not trained to appreciate the enormous fund of information available on the single island, or to anticipate the vagaries of seemingly steady wind. It would be far safer to remain here, and more efficient. Though there was that matter of the spores in the station ... and he could not outvote the two of them.

  'Four out of seven?' Cal inquired.

  Veg and Aquilon exchanged glances. They had not thought of this. If the precedent of voting on key decisions were established, the precedent of including the mantas as franchised individuals would also be in force.

  'Manta suffrage,' Aquilon murmured.

  In the course of a difficult discussion the nature of the voting concept and practice was conveyed to the mantas: each entity to cast his ballot, the minority amenable to the will of the majority. Cal wondered whether the fungoid creatures really understood. They could easily cast a bloc vote. Should they have been considered as a single entity, one vote for the group of them? Too late now.

  Cal called off the names in alphabetical order. Each voter would advance to the bow if he wished to travel on the raft, and to the stern if he wished to remain based on the island.

  'Quilon.' She stepped to the bow, and the tally stood one to nothing, raft.

  'Cal.' After he spoke his own name, he moved to the rear. The truth was that he did want to explore, and to get away from Earth's influence - but he did not want to alarm the others by giving his reasons, or to have it on record that he approved the jaunt. There were sometimes distinct advantages to a split decision, particularly when the results would be recorded and evaluated by unfriendly officials.

  'Circe.' Here was the test: which way would the manta jump.

  Circe hopped to join Aquilon. Two to one.

  'Diam.' This could decide it, for Veg surely wanted to explore, and that would make a majority.

  Diam bounded into the air, shaking the raft by the force of his takeoff, flared, and came down beside Cal. Two to two - and they were not bloc voting!

  'Hex.' That was Veg's companion. But if Circe had joined Aquilon from personal sentiment, Hex could not do the same, for Veg had not yet formally committed himself.

  Hex joined the bow party, and it was three to two. The outcome was no longer in doubt, but the vote had to be officially completed.

  'Star.' Star had stayed with Cal throughout, as had Diam. Would he choose accordingly, as a matter of academic curiosity?

  Star did. Three to three.

  'Veg.' And of course Veg went forward. The issue had been decided, and - what was far more significant - the mantas had voted as individuals.

  The party of seven was about to travel, and Cal was glad.

  VII - ORN

  Time was long, yet it was nothing, for he only wandered and grew. He crossed inland mountains - the kind that developed from shifts and buckles of the ground, rather than from ash and lava - and plains and swamps, bearing east. Though he ran his limit each day, stopping only to feed himself, the summer was waning before he reached the new ocean formed from the widening chasm between land fragments. He had verified his general map: this land was now far away from its origin, and was still moving.

  Increasing cold nudged him south. Many things had changed, and much of the landscape differed substantially from that of his memory, but that was the way of the Earth. It always changed, as the waves on the seas changed, and so bad to be resurveyed periodically for posterity.

  The mams were everywhere. Small primes twittered in the occasional grassy areas, burrowing for grubs and tubers, and some peered at him from trees with great round eyes. They were generally fragile and shy, yet numerous; he fed on them frequently. Every so often he brought down a dino, horned, but clumsy and not very bright. This creature tended to become absorbed in his browsing and not be alert for danger.

  There were also a number of snakes, and many liz and small amphibs, all feeding on the plentiful arths. And Orn did too, tearing open anthills with relish and picking up the scurrying morsels with his gluey tongue. Never in his memory had there been such regular feasting!

  Aves filled the trees, benefiting even more from the ardi supply. The birds had become more diverse than ever, and were now excellent fliers. Several lines swam in the ponds and rivers, and others ran along the ground as he di
d, though none of these were closely allied to him. His line had been land-bound longer, and during more dangerous times; thus he was larger and swifter than these newcomers. Many of the others would never have been able to survive attack by a running rep.

  Winter promised to be far more severe than his prior one on the island. Orn continued driving south, making good progress; yet the cold stalked him. There was nowhere he could set up a regular abode. He could withstand freezing temperatures for short periods, but this sapped his strength. His plumage was not thick enough to protect him against a prolonged siege, even though many smaller birds endured winter well enough. He was becoming tired of perpetual travel; he was almost full-grown now, and beginning to respond to developing urges for other things.