Panille stared at the hylighters, at the wind-whipped sea surface. He felt an unexpected freedom here, as though all of that time confined in Ship’s artificial environment had merely been preparation for this release. All of the holorecords, the history and the intense hours of study could not touch one blink of this reality. The preparations had, however, armed him with knowledge. He looked down at Thomas.

“A kite could lift our antenna high enough.”

“Kite?” Waela stared up through the plaz at him. Kites were carrion-eating birds.

Thomas, knowing the other meaning, looked thoughtful. “Do we have the material?”

“What are you talking about?” Waela demanded.

Thomas explained.

“Ohhh, festival flyers,” she said. She glanced around the gondola. “We have fabrics. What’re these?” She unsnapped a sealing strip from an instrument panel, flexed it. “Here’s material for the bracing.”

Panille, looking down at them, said: “Then let’s . . .” He broke off as a shadow passed over him.

They all looked up.

Two large hylighters passed directly over the gondola, some of their tendrils tucked up while others held large rocks in the water to steady them. The ballast tendrils of one hylighter rubbed across the gondola, rocking it sharply.

Panille clutched the hatch rim for support. The ballast rock sped past below him in a foaming wake.

“What’re they doing?” Waela shouted.

“That gas we threw out killed a lot of the kelp,” Thomas said. “You don’t suppose hylighters protect the kelp?”

“Here come some more of them!” Panille called.

Thomas and Waela looked where he was pointing. A swarm of hylighters glowing golden orange tacked across the wind perhaps a hundred meters away, turning in unison.

Panille climbed farther out of the hatch to sit on the rim. From this vantage, he could see the ballast rocks draw foaming lines across the waves, skipping over the kelp’s leaves. The giant sail-crests of the hylighters billowed and flapped as they turned, then stiffened as they took their new heading,

Standing below him to peer over the top of an instrument bank, Thomas could see some of this.

“Don’t tell me they’re brainless,” he said.

“I wonder if we’ve angered them?” Waela asked.

Panille, the wind tugging at his hair and beard, heard this as though it came from the ancient world of Ship. He felt exhilarated—free at last. Pandora was wonderful!

“They’re beautiful!” he cried. “Beautiful!”

A sharp crackling sound from behind Thomas brought him whirling around. It was the speaker of a radio he had left on after testing it. Another sharp crackling erupted from the speaker. Hylighters and kelp both were blamed for this phenomenon which made radio undependable here, but how did they do it?

The swarm was almost at the gondola now. A giant specimen in the lead aimed its rock ballast directly at the gondola. Thomas held his breath. How much of that could the plaz withstand?

“They’re attacking!” Waela shouted.