Charles Sheffield - The Spheres of Heaven

Bony wondered how Friday Indigo was doing, up there on the surface. Also what he was doing. The captain had been very secretive. The Mood Indigo could always descend again and sit the storm out safely on the bed of the sea — provided that Indigo had the sense to listen to the warning message, and act on it. On the other hand, this was a situation where the Mood Indigo would have been invaluable. The ship could fly three kilometers far quicker than anyone could walk.

Eager Seeker was already in motion, Tinker components rapidly removing themselves from the main body. The process appeared totally random. Bony began to put his suit back on, but he could not hide his curiosity.

While he was waiting for his suit to climb back up his body, he asked, “How does a Tinker Composite decide what size to be?”

The Pipe-Rilla said at once, “It is all a question of necessary function. If there are—”

“Vow-of-Silence, do you mind? After all, this is our own self that is being discussed.” There was a definite testiness to Eager Seeker’s tone. Bony, recalling that the Tinker Composite had not said one word after their initial greeting, decided that Vow-of-Silence might represent not so much a name as a desire on the part of others.

The blunt head-like upper part of the Composite turned toward Bony, even as components sped away from it. Eager Seeker was taking on a distinctly ragged appearance as the Tinker Composite went on, “A full answer would require much time. But there are certain simple rules. First, if we wish to we can join every component together. When we do so, we have increased thinking power. But we are also less nimble mentally. We are slower , with a longer integration time. Thus, we are not so quick to complete a thought or to reach a decision. The integration time grows very quickly — exponentially — with the number of components. When the problem is large, we combine all units. This, of course, is why we came here as a Composite of unusual size, with the expectation of problems of unusual difficulty. Normally, we choose a compromise between speed of thought and depth of thought. In a possible emergency — as now — smaller is better. And since we must soon leave the ship” — more and more dark-winged bodies flew away from the main bulk of the Composite — “we will take that action not as an entity, but as a non-entity. As individual components …”

The voice faded to nothing, the speaking funnel closed, and a blizzard of purple-black swirled about the cabin before vanishing up a narrow tube in the ceiling.

“Eager Seeker leaves through an airlock too small for me or you.” Vow-of-Silence was wriggling her body and legs into the odd array of tubes, which mysteriously transformed into a suit. “We will use the exit method you so kindly provided. Come now. The Angel’s ship waits for us, but the storm declines to do so.”

She led the way back out through the airlock. Bony and Liddy followed. Under the sea there was no sign of the coming storm, although all the bubble people had vanished. Eager Seeker, in the form of its thousands of separate parts, was already outside. The components seemed as much at home in water as in air, turning and tumbling around each other with easy flaps of tiny wings. And then, in a moment, all of them darted off at great speed in the same direction.

Vow-of-Silence set off after them, saying, “Of course, our presence may be quite unnecessary. Eager Seeker can probably ensure the Angel’s safety without us.” Her voice came, perfectly clear, into Bony’s suit. So much for the opacity of water to radio waves. He wondered what other technical tricks the aliens had up their sleeves, also what strange physiology the Pipe-Rilla possessed. Vow-of-Silence appeared thin and fragile, and she was strolling along at what appeared to be a moderate pace, but no human could travel so fast in water. Bony and Liddy had to rise off the sea floor and use their thrustor jets to keep up.

They had gone only a short distance when the Tinker components came winging back. A group of them formed a tight cluster about Vow-of-Silence’s suited figure, so that the Pipe-Rilla was obliged to stop moving and stand half-hidden on the seabed. After a few seconds the Tinker bodies lifted and again flew rapidly away.

Vow-of-Silence turned to Bony and Liddy. “Strange. Very strange. Eager Seeker went to the Angel ship, which is in exactly the position reported by the Sea-wanderers. It appears unharmed. However, the ship is open to the sea and the Angel is not on board.”

Liddy said, “Does that mean the Angel is dead?”

“Not necessarily. The actions of Angels are often impenetrable, but self-preservation is high on their list of priorities. If you will excuse me …” Vow-of-Silence ducked her head and the Pipe-Rilla took off with gigantic strides, stepping easily across waving sea-grass two meters tall. Her rate of progress was enormous. Even with thrustors set to maximum, Bony and Liddy fell steadily behind. The undersea light was fading, though nightfall on Limbo was many hours away. Bony took a quick swoop up toward the surface, close enough to feel turbulence in the water. A few meters above his head, the full storm was arriving. He looked up and saw dark and light patterns rippling across the surface, synchronized to the movement of pressure waves across his body.

He dove back down, peering into underwater gloom and suddenly afraid that he might lose contact with both Liddy and Vow-of-Silence. The Pipe-Rilla had vanished but he saw Liddy plowing steadily on, just far enough above the seabed to avoid the clinging sea-grasses. He flew after her, across a sea valley, over a ridge, descending steadily and trying to will the suit thrustors to produce more than their maximum possible power. Was it imagination, or was Liddy slowing down?

Yes. Not just slowing. She had stopped. And then he could see Vow-of-Silence. And the clustered components of Eager Seeker. And then, in the middle of the group, a stout and unfamiliar form shaped like a giant artichoke.

When he came up to them, the Angel was speaking. Bony detected an unmistakable petulance in the computer-generated tones. “Naturally we left our ship. It was impossible to predict whether we would be swept into the ocean abyss, or carried onto the rocky shore. Neither outcome was acceptable. The Bard of Terra spoke truth: Cowards die many times before their death . However, the superior coward prefers not to die at all.”

Vow-of-Silence said, “But are you all right, Angel? You seem helpless. Can you breathe under water?”

“You do not need to call us Angel. In Stellar Group company we answer to the name of Gressel. And we are certainly not helpless. In fact, we were heading for your ship when you found us. And although we cannot breathe under water, we can not breathe under water, which is what we are doing now.”

As the Angel spoke it was creeping along the sea floor. The roots of the Chassel-Rose that formed the Angel’s lower part retracted, pulled free of the bottom silt at a glacial rate, and quiveringly stretched forward to root themselves again. Bony’s guess was that the three-kilometer journey to the Finder could well be all over in a matter of weeks.

Vow-of-Silence must have reached the same conclusion. The giant pipe-stem figure bent over the Angel, said, “With your permission, Gressel,” and hoisted the bulky mass effortlessly up. “It is likely,” the Pipe-Rilla went on, “that no effects of the storm will be observed at this depth, but we cannot be sure of that. We would rather be in our ship than outside it.” Vow-of-Silence turned with the Angel in her arms and headed rapidly back the way that she had come.