Jeff Carlson - The Frozen Sky

She dropped the rock and pushed over a smaller boulder with a chipped half-sun of a carving on the underside. “Got it?” she asked, feeling close to him again, the real him and the ghost. He was a potent friend.

— They’re within six hundred meters.

“You got it?”

— Yes. There are more of them this time. Twelve. They’re moving faster .

“Help me with this big rock.”

The truth was she scarcely knew which questions to ask. She wasn’t puzzled that there were sunfish carvings in territory that was no longer theirs. These catacombs must have changed hands regularly or were deserted and reclaimed as the years passed, but she wondered why she hadn’t found more carvings, air locks, or reservoirs.

Even if the sunfish had been exiled from this area for centuries, shouldn’t she have seen other signs of activity?

Some part of the secret might be here. Vonnie was willing to defend it. In fact, she might find the answers she needed in the sunfishes’ rivals.

Was it possible that Europa had given rise to more than one intelligence species? If so, where was the evidence of a second civilization? If not, what sort of animal was strong enough to drive off a thinking race?

— I’ve finished recording this section .

“Good,” Vonnie said.

Then she swung to face the approaching voices with an excavation charge in either hand.

The cavern seemed to stretch as her fear grew. She stayed near the carvings, trying to anchor herself. Deep radar let her track the new creatures while they were still out of sight. There were twelve bodies in the swarm, banging off the walls and ceiling of a gap.

— Sixty meters. Fifty .

Vonnie held her explosives. There were too many entrances, and she had only four half-sticks. She couldn’t throw one until they were almost on top of her. Otherwise they might get away, leaping back into the chasms on the far side.

— Forty .

They would catch her if she ran. She knew she had to stand her ground, but her adrenaline felt like a hundred chittering mice. She felt untamed and inhumanly quick.

— They’re in the third tunnel .

As soon as there was less rock in the way, Lam drew each body into clear resolution. They were no longer twelve overlapping blobs. They were sunfish.

“Christ, you said…”

They were different. These sunfish were larger, with longer arms and different skin, like cousins of the ones she’d fought. Cousins, yet a separate breed. To creatures who saw and spoke in sonar, the new sunfish would stand apart from the others if for no other reason than their size.

As they flitted in and out of sight, Vonnie saw they were darker, too. But they didn’t enter the cavern. Were they trying to envelop her?

Like the smaller sunfish, they must not have any idea what to make of a bipedal creature wrapped in metal and glass. That they hesitated was a positive sign.

Vonnie spoke in a whisper. “You’re recording their sonar calls, correct?”

— Yes.

“Get ready to broadcast some of those calls on my command. Can you tell me what they’re saying?”

— The pitch and intonations of their voices are different than those of the smaller sunfish, although the body shapes they use are similar.

Neither breed would be aware of their skin color. Maybe they smelled or tasted differently, but Vonnie reached one conclusion immediately because she could see. The increased mineral absorption in the skin and defensive spines of the larger sunfish suggested that they lived in the caustic waters of hot springs or the great salt ocean, unlike their smaller cousins, who might be limited to fresh water reservoirs.

Their race diverged , she thought. They grew apart, each kind finding its niche like dark-skinned human beings in Africa and pale-skinned in Europe. What if their differences are more than cosmetic? Can they crossbreed with each other?

More interesting, it wasn’t the larger sunfish who’d written on this rock wall. The size of the carvings was wrong. So was the surface texture, which matched the pebbly skin and spines of the smaller breed. The carvings belonged to the smaller sunfish. So did the nubs of cartilage Lam had identified in the feces they’d discovered.

Vonnie’s thoughts crashed together as the elusive, feinting sunfish revolved around her like a living hurricane. They dodged in and out of the gaps surrounding the cavern.

They’re eating each other ! she realized. The two kinds of sunfish are at war.

Were both breeds really intelligent? Did she want them to be? If not, the situation was akin to gorillas hunting people, a larger species preying upon its weaker, smarter relatives. That by itself was horrific. But if yes — if both breeds were sentient — they were cannibals.

Yes , she thought. The word held a gruesome finality. I think the answer is yes.

The larger sunfish used group tactics like the smaller breed. These weren’t animals. Their voices rose and fell, calling to each other as individual members of the pack maneuvering for position.

They’re analyzing me. Confusing me.

Eating their cousins was disgusting, but their war with each other was the more despicable crime. It was why she’d discovered so few traces of social organization. Instead of building more safe areas, instead of farming or writing, they fought.

Their competition had been more than either side was able to withstand. In fact, she couldn’t be certain if the smaller sunfish she’d encountered were members of a single tribe or two or more. How far had their race lapsed into anarchy?

“Broadcast your sonar calls,” she said. “Let’s talk to them. You said you can…”

— Here they come .

The new sunfish sprang into the cavern, a dual wave of bodies high and low. Vonnie’s chance to kill them cleanly would be gone in seconds. She had learned not to wait, but she’d also remembered who she was and why she’d come to Europa.

“Lam, talk to them! Try to talk to them with body shapes!” she yelled.

Her suit dropped down as the sunfish flew closer. Lam greeted them by altering his stance, lowering one shoulder and waggling her hands alongside her stomach.

It was the right decision. Vonnie believed it. These sunfish were a new, separate population. She hoped they would answer her.

The new breed reacted to Lam’s posture as they soared across the cavern. With a ripple of motion, their bodies shared an idea. Was it astonishment at Lam’s attempt to communicate? Vonnie realized they also used the fine pedicellaria beneath their arms to convey information. Lifting one arm or more, they showed each other dense, writhing patterns.

Many of those arms were damaged. With radar targeting, Lam identified dozens of old scars and deformities. Vonnie had seen similar gashes among the smaller sunfish. She’d thought they’d sustained those wounds on the lava rock.

The injuries were beak wounds.

When the sunfish fought, they led with their undersides, snapping and slicing at each other. In all likelihood, the smaller sunfish were better at getting inside their cousins’ reach. They would sustain more deaths, yet left more marks on their adversaries.

“Lam, hurry!” she shouted.

He was limited by her form. He was also canny enough not to try to replicate the carvings or mimic what they’d seen of the smaller sunfish. The warring breeds might have separate languages, so Lam improvised, holding Vonnie in an uncomfortable ball as he stuttered her fingers against her torso. Her visor flickered with sun-shapes as he compared these twelve individuals with sims and real data.