“Yes sir.” The Lieutenant turned and pushed off, disappearing like a feather down the lock-tube.

“Well, Moorea?” The Admiral’s antennae twined in frustration. “No crystals of wisdom to offer?”

“I didn’t think the AAnn had anything like this, Ash.”

“Don’t bet that they do, Pat, don’t bet that they do. I dearly hope that, if it’s not a natural occurrence, the AAnn are responsible for this. The alternative scares the sugar out of me. And I haven’t been that frightened, Pat, in a long, long time.”

On board the heavy cruiser Sanderling not too many hundreds of kilometers away, his munificence Baron Riidi WW was expressing similar sentiments, in which Admiral Ashvenarya figured prominently.

Mal’s head cleared with surprising speed soon after he opened his eyes. He stared upwards and was confronted with the badly bent roof of the hoveraft. Pushing against the hard pecces behind him, he struggled to a kneeling position. By leaning on the outcropping for support he managed to inch his way to his feet. He stood there, holding on until most of the dizziness had passed. At about that time he became aware that pecces was not a normal fixture in Replerian hoverafts.

Encrusted with shells and barnacle-like organisms, the sharp spine of the reef projected a good meter and a half through the floor.

There was a moan forward. It was followed by some weak, if highly imaginative, cursing in feminine tones.

“You all right?” he queried.

Kitten tried to swivel the pilot’s chair, failed. The pivot ring was jammed against the supporting metal. She unstrapped herself, moving with slow, pained gestures, and staggered towards the foreport. It had shattered on impact. Cool seawater lapped gently against the bottom of the sprung doorway. A small crustacean was already inspecting this new addition to the reef.

Except for a slight list to the back and right, the raft was fairly level. Mal took a step forward, nearly toppled. He put out an arm to grab a bar projecting from the near wall and noticed idly that it was stained red in places. Looking down at himself he was surprised to discover that the red came from a broad but shallow gash across the right side of his chest. He’d lost a lot of skin but not much blood. He ripped material from his left sleeve to bind the wound. Fortunately, the bleeding had nearly stopped.

“See anything?”

“We’re on a reef,” she replied. “Rose’s waveskimmer is jammed up in front of us. Part of it seems to be under our bow. Probably what’s causing our listing. What’s left of the skimmer, anyway. It’s in much worse shape than we are—not that this is seaworthy, either. Looks like he took the brunt of the blow. Bottom’s been ripped out.”

“Any sign of the monster?”