Deluge

by Anne McCaffrey

  “I don’t want to disturb the cat, and if I zapped Mabo, the shock would probably kill Zuzu. She looks like she’s having fun.”

  “Besides,” Murel added, “your gran is seriously twisted. She uses that kind of stuff. We’re better than that.”

  “I guess so. I don’t want to do anything like she does. It might make her think there was a family resemblance.”

  The ground trembled beneath their damp feet as the mountain beyond sent up plumes of smoke, ash, and sparks. The trees whipped fitfully in a strong hot wind. At least everyone had dried out quickly, Murel thought, and there was no danger of hypothermia here, as there would have been on Petaybee, though sunburn was always a hazard.

  “We’ve been here too long,” Ronan said aloud. “This place is starting to look like home. Or bits of it.”

  “The warm bits,” Murel agreed, with a nod to the volcano. “So now what? The boat’s wrecked, the alien craft can’t help as long as we’re on land instead of in the water, the mainland is full of armed soldiers, and these people can’t survive at sea very long.”

  “You didn’t mention the volcano about to blow,” Pele reminded her helpfully.

  “That too.” Murel regarded the waving tree fronds and the swaying trunks, then said, “There is one thing you might do that could help. Though this planet isn’t as receptive as Petaybee, it might listen. Ke-ola had us do a birthing hula for the new volcano at home. Do the rest of you know it?”

  “Not really. Ke-ola paid more attention to that stuff than the rest of us.”

  “I know it,” someone muttered. It was Kai, looking defensive. When the others turned to her, the big girl shrugged. “I helped Mama with you younger ones.”

  “You know the birthing oli?” Pele asked in surprise.

  “I ought to. She was in labor with you almost three days.”

  “Ke-ola showed us the dance, but we don’t know the words,” Murel said. “And it was a while ago. Do you still remember the steps?” she asked her brother.

  “I think so,” he said. “When I see it again it should come back to me.”

  There was another great tremble and another plume of smoke, ash—and flame. Glowing hot veins of red bled down the side of the mountain.

  “Has anyone called for help?” the injured sergeant asked. She was a small, wiry woman who reminded Murel a bit of Pet Chan. “We need to be evacuated. If that lava reaches this beach, there’ll be no safe place for any of us. I’ve seen it before.”

  “Most of our equipment was destroyed, Sarge,” another soldier told her. “The mobiles aren’t working.”

  “That’s because the same thing happened on the mainland,” Ronan told them. “You can’t expect any help from that quarter. We’re on our own. I know this may look daft to you, but it’s worked before, back where we come from.”

  Murel had grave doubts about whether the hula would speak to the core of this planet. They’d had no indication that this thoroughly tamed world with its moribund sea and prison-populated landmasses was at all self-aware. And even if it was, it might not be reasonable. But trying to soothe it with the birthing hula would keep people busy, at least.

  Let’s leave them to it and go back to the city, she suggested. Kushtaka’s people know more about how this world functions than anyone around here. Maybe they have some more ideas.

  We can’t abandon Marmie and Adrienne, or the others for that matter.

  We’re not abandoning them. But we need to come up with some other alternatives. I get the feeling that a sentient planet that’s been used as a prison for so long might not be enough of an art and culture lover to appreciate the dance.

  They dived in and changed, and when they surfaced, began swimming toward the city. The volcano’s rumble was as fierce as the growl of some wild beast—the kind that ate seals. The water was still turbulent and full of chop from the city-ship’s agitation of it. It made for slow and rough going.

  They kept surfacing and turning to look at the volcano. During one such break, they saw ships descending from the sky.

  Looks like someone will get evacuated anyway, Ronan said.

  Probably the brass. The rest of us can become lava statues, for all they care.

  As they drew closer to the underwater volcanic vent where the city had settled, they met teams of their alien friends, some of them in squid form, some still appearing to be giant otters, swimming away from the city.

  Where are you going? Ronan asked.

  Setting up the sursurvu—strictly routine, one of the pair, in squid form, replied. The sursurvu was a network of surveillance devices the aliens deployed in the vicinity of their city to keep an eye on the neighborhood.

  You may have to move again quickly, Murel said. It looks like the volcano is about to blow.

  Yes, it is providing the most magnificent power surges, the squid replied cheerfully as the pair swam away.

  At least somebody is pleased about it, Murel said grumpily.

  They entered the city through the transparent dome. The entire metropolis was brightly lit from its own lights and from the glow of the vent throbbing up through the floor. It was a wonder the place wasn’t too hot for any life-form, but this race had somehow overcome that problem. Other creatures lived outside the dome and thrived on the heat and the acidic gases that Ronan and Murel had to avoid. As at the city’s preferred docking vent on Petaybee, the scent of sulfur was almost overpowering to the seals’ sensitive noses.

  Kushtaka seemed to be busy elsewhere, but the twins located Mraka and Puk, who were tinkering with the fishing ray mechanisms. All around them lay dead fish, which were less than fresh.

  What happened here? Ronan asked.

  The fish are arriving dead. Something’s wrong with the calibration, Mraka said.

  It has calibration? Murel asked, trying to peer over his front leg to see the bit he held in his otter paw.

  Yes, but it is incorrect now. Too powerful, I think. As you can see, the fish do not survive being caught.

  Could it be that they were killed by the force of the waterspout and you’re catching dead ones because that’s all there are? Ronan asked.

  Oh, do you think that could be it?

  Yes. You really do have to find a mode of travel that’s easier on the things around you. Speaking of which, the people who didn’t drown on the island are about to be incinerated by the volcano. I know you can’t take them in here, but your people were native to this planet. Do you have any suggestions for something they can do to protect themselves? Anything at all?

  No, Puk said, looking at her blankly. Now about these dead fish—

  Just no? Murel demanded indignantly. They’re going to die—

  We wouldn’t, Mraka told her. So it has never been considered a problem for us. Perhaps, given enough time, we could find a way to build a bubble like this one over them, but it is held in place and sustained by our atmosphere, and humans unadapted for the sea cannot live in that either. So I don’t think we can help you with this one.

  The fish, however—Puk continued, picking one up with a worried frown.

  Throw them out, Ronan said sharply. Isn’t there any sort of lifeboat or anything we could use to help our friends?

  What is a lifeboat? the alien engineers asked in unison.

  WITHIN A FEW hours, shortly after the alien city-ship whirled into the waters of Gwinnet’s dead sea, several ships apparently friendly to one another and belonging to the Intergal Company and the Federation entered Gwinnet’s outer atmosphere. Some of them prepared to orbit. One, the George Armstrong Custer, landed and docked, only to be swept from its moorings by the waves generated by the alien ship’s waterspout-borne departure to shallower waters.

  The hijacked troop ship from Petaybee was the third vessel to approach the planet to land. Initially, the crew was anxious to arrive before the Custer, but had orders from its official escort to wait.

  “The port authorities aren’t responding, Johnny,” Pet Chan told the captain.

&nb
sp; “You think they’ve made us?” Raj Norman asked.

  “Do you mean do they realize we are not the authorized crew?” Rick O’Shay asked. “The Custer can’t know that we’re anybody but who our registration number says we are. As we’ve had no unsolicited contact since Versailles Station, unless there’s been a leak in very high places, I don’t see how anybody could know we are other than what we appear to be. As of our last com from Petaybee, the original crew is still enjoying its arctic holiday, dogsledding, snocling, possibly even skiing and ice skating, admiring the aurora, and no doubt holding marathon poker tournaments.”

  Pet ignored his attempt at humor. She could be very single-minded when she was concerned about something. “We’re not even getting an autoresponse,” she said. Her mouth had a grim set to it. “We’re about to enter atmo, however. Your call, Captain.”

  Johnny shrugged. “I’d say silence confers consent. Can you get a visual? It would be good to know if they were launching missiles or gunships our way.”

  At first all they saw was a partially obscured pattern of swirling staticky snow filling the screen, but then that receded and revealed a sea and landscape quite different from the one their charts had led them to expect. Huge waves broke over the octopus-shaped, flat-roofed prison building. Loops and curls of water tangled the remains of the docking bay gantries. The Custer listed half out of its bay while the crew trickled out from a hatch near the nose. Shuttle craft bobbed upside down on the swells. As Pet watched, one was dashed to pieces against the prison wall. The wall appeared to be holding, but the water breaking over it had made a moat of the prison yard. People were pouring onto the roof. Pet saw a lot of uniforms and no prison fatigues among those taking the high ground.

  “That does not look promising,” Johnny agreed. “No missiles, but also no place to land. Back into orbit, then, and any rescuing that gets done will have to be done by shuttle.”

  Ascending, they caught sight of the island in the distance, along with the waterspout and the waves.

  They were in orbit, and in conference, when the volcano began to grumble.

  THIS HULA WAS not going well. Pele and Kai did their best, but there were simply too many factions represented among the survivors to be unified in their purpose. As geysers of lava sprayed upward from the cone and rivers of lava flowed down its sides and burned through the jungle, many fled to the sea. The Kanaka kids stood—or rather, danced—their ground, and Rory, Marmie, and Adrienne joined in, but Zuzu sat at the edge of the water and kept glancing back and forth between it and the shore, while Sky chittered at her in what was meant to be a reassuring tone.

  Ronan and Murel did not join in the dance but swam offshore, watching, waiting. Those who had already entered the water were still fresh, but soon they would begin to tire. They had made rafts of debris left behind by the waves, and the water was warm, but when the lava boiled into the water, it would heat up even more.

  This could be it, you know, Murel said. The end. We could all die.

  Well, you and I could take refuge in the city, of course.

  I’m not doing that! I’m going to stay out here and help the swimmers as long as I can.

  Me too, of course, Ronan replied. And Kushtaka’s people promised to help as long as they could. But the water may get too hot for us, Mur. And there’s still maybe sixty people left—we can’t keep juggling them indefinitely. The volcano could blow and keep blowing for weeks, even months.

  We can probably keep most people alive with the help of the aliens, until rescue arrives anyway.

  You saw what that mess was like on the mainland, Ronan scoffed. How long do you think it’s going to take them to notice what’s happening over here and divert some attention to us? And when they do, we’ll be right back where we started—worse even. They’ll round everyone up and take the kids to prison too, and they’ll know then that we’re selkies and—

  Stop it, laddie. You’re borrowing trouble. Let’s just do what we can do when it needs doing and keep going till we can’t anymore. Then, if we can, we’ll figure out what else to do. Deal?

  All of that goes without saying. Just trying to think ahead, he said.

  Well, don’t. It’s depressing.

  On shore, Kai ignored everyone else while she danced and sang with more energy than she had shown since the twins first met her. Pele and the other kids were sweating as they danced. The adults looked exhausted, quivering with the effort of maintaining the beat set by Kai’s chant. Kai was growing hoarse. Finally, Pele shook her head, then changed her dance and began another chant, at first in harmony with her sister’s, then when Kai noticed what she was doing and stopped chanting and changed her dance, Pele led.

  Ronan and Murel couldn’t hear what she said above the roaring of the waters and the rumble and crash of the mountain, but the gestures she used were repeated by Rory and the others trying to help. These gestures had lots of calming motions, and the sort that a guard would use to say “Stop.” Her hands flowed around her. She covered her face, then seemed to cover her head and cower, and then made beseeching gestures, hands out, palms up and cupped.

  Through the jungle a wave of lava flowed toward them, far more daunting than the walls of water they had faced before.

  Everyone except Pele and three of her sisters broke ranks and ran for the water. The four girls continued dancing.

  Ronan flopped ashore on his front flippers and shook himself hard to dry.

  What are you doing, Ro? You’re going to be seal steaks in another two seconds.

  I’m going to drag them out here, is what. Wait.

  But Murel didn’t wait. There was only one of him and four girls, so she too flopped ashore and dried off and then ran forward into the searing heat, grabbing at arms. The girls, as if entranced by the flames, jerked away and kept dancing.

  “Are you nuts? This volcano doesn’t know you. It won’t—” She started to tell them that it wouldn’t listen.

  But then, suddenly, the lava wave sank and drained into two channels that flowed away down either side of the compound and off into the sea, leaving char and cooling red-black lava behind.

  Ronan and Murel turned back to the sea to help those trying to stay afloat, but as they were changing, Pele and her sisters dashed past them and jumped in. I guess they figured there was no sense in trying the volcano’s patience for too long, Murel said.

  Yeah, especially since “patient” is not usually a word used to describe volcanoes.

  The twins swam back out to help support the swimmers. Some of the first to hit the water were flagging now. Zuzu perched with her back paws on Adrienne’s shoulders, her front paws on top of her mistress’s head. The Piaf’s first mate dog-paddled beyond the rocks, which was about as far as any of them had gone in their efforts to evade the lava.

  Already the bath-warm water was growing uncomfortably hot, just from the lava flowing into it on the side of the ocean. If a more direct stream came at them, this would not be far enough to avoid being boiled alive. Ronan and Murel, with Sky’s help, began herding the swimmers farther out to sea. They didn’t want them to be in range of the volcanic area where the city-ship was moored, but if the refugees from the land were in sight of the sursurvu, Kushtaka’s people could find them and help keep them afloat more easily. Unfortunately, what had seemed not terribly far to the seal twins was impossible for full-time humans.

  People kept sinking beneath the waves, and Ronan and Murel kept diving to push them back to the surface again.

  After doing this several times, they stayed underwater and waited for people to sink, then pushed them up in assembly-line fashion. Soon they grew tired. If Kushtaka’s people are helping, they’re keeping a low profile, Ronan observed sourly.

  Maybe they’re waiting until people have nearly drowned so many times they’ll think they’re imagining being saved by otters again. I think I sense a myth budding here.

  Providing anyone survives to spread it, Ronan said, turning toward the surface again while scan
ning for bodies on their way down. He saw none. He noticed some swimmer’s feet, but no one sinking, and as he watched, two pairs of feet vanished. Maybe they have arrived, after all. Maybe they’re just doing it differently than before. Look, sis!

  They surfaced together and saw flitters skimming the water, human crew members leaning out of hatches to scoop up grasping swimmers.

  They must have another installation near here, maybe a moon, and sent ships from there, Ronan said. The rescuers are wearing Corps uniforms.

  Not all of them, Murel said, as three flitters lifted off and three more bearing Federation insignia hovered over the water. Those are Federation. Maybe they were coming to investigate Marmie’s disappearance…

  Or maybe they were coming to try her for her supposed crimes. Look, there she is, he said, pointing at a figure whose dark curls were sleeked to her head like Sky’s fur, while in the water nearby bobbed the apparently two-headed creature that was Adrienne and Zuzu.

  With the rest of them gone, we can concentrate on helping Marmie and Adrienne remain free, Murel said grimly. As relays of flitters picked up swimmers and disappeared into the red- and fuchsia-fired clouds with them, the twins dived beneath the waves and swam for the legs and feet they had pinpointed as belonging to Adrienne and Marmie.

  Sky streaked past them. Hah! Otters are good cat savers. I will save Zuzu. She is used to it now.

  But just as they were within nudging distance of the women and the cat, the legs were pulled to the surface.

  Ronan and Murel rose and popped their heads out of the water in time to see the women disappear through the hatch of a Company Corps flitter. Nearby, Sky had an ungrateful Zuzu by the scruff of her neck while she churned her sopping paws and snarled at him. Oaf! Buffoon! Untooth me!

  Sky, bewildered and hurt at this display of feline ingratitude, dropped her into the water. Murel dived to catch the cat on her back and suffered scratches for her efforts. The cat surfaced under her own power and cat-paddled with perfect aplomb.