"I'm sorry," Rachael said. "I'm afraid I don't know Terran geography very well. I've lived there only for a few years, while I've been in school."

"No matter. Merced means 'river' in the language of my other ancestors, who conquered my princ.i.p.al ones."

" 'Shining river.' Very pretty."

"What about yours? Does it mean anything?"

"d.a.m.ned if I know." A hand reached back, touched Cora. "Hey, Mother, what does 'Xamantina' mean?"

"I don't know, Rachael." She looked again at the earnest little man behind them. "It's an Amerind name, also derived from South America. A different

region, though, I think."

Merced looked intrigued. "Perhaps our ancestors

were neighbors, then."

"Possibly." Cora spoke softly. "No doubt they fought and killed one another with great vigor." She turned away, looked back out the port.

"Mother," Rachael whispered at her angrily, "you have a talent for displaying the most exquisite rude- ness."

"Calm down, dear. We'll be landing soon. You wouldn't want your toy scattered all over the cabin,

would you?"

Rachael huffily snuggled down into her seat, though

Cora could still feel her daughter's eyes on the back of her neck as she stared out the port. She chuckled to herself, thankful that Merced had given her the chance to let him know how she felt without her having to in- trude on the conversation.

"Four minutes to touchdown," the speaker voice

said. "Refasten harnessing, please."

Cora did so mechanically. Mou'anui should be straight ahead of them. She should be able to see at least part of it immediately prior to touchdown. They would approach the oval lagoon from one end. It was

17.

sixty kilometers long in places, and surely they-yes, there!

A brilliant flash stung her eyes through the port, from where direct sunlight impacted on the hexalate sands. She stared at the kaleidoscope of color until her eyes filled with tears.

A dull thunk sounded as the long, solid pontoons were lowered. Seconds before contact, the light had become so strong Cora had to turn from the port. The brief impression she had had of Mou'anui would never leave her, however. It was as if they were touching down inside a diamond.

Another, louder thump was heard as they touched water. The rear engines roared. Cora struggled to clear her vision, but occasional lances of reflected light shot through the port, blinding her. She was aware of a dif- ferent motion, one that was at once familiar and yet strange.

They were floating now, adrift on an alien sea.

19.

II

We will be debarking shortly, ladies and gen- tlemen," the voice from the speaker said. "Welcome to Cachalot."

Pa.s.sengers were unslipping their flight harnesses, organizing luggage and tapecases and personal effects.

Cora tried to single out those who might be natives, settled on the man and woman in the first two portside seats. They were not of Polynesian ancestry, but boasted skin tanned the color of light chocolate. They wore only fishnet tops over swim shorts.

The shuttlecraft slowly taxied across the lagoon.

Through the windows, which had automatically dark- ened in response to the reflected light, she could see down into the limpid transparency that was the surface.

Gradually the darkness gave way to lighter, brighter colors as the water grew shallower.

Now Cora could make out shapes moving through the water. So excited was she at these first signs of Cachalot life that she almost forgot to breathe. The forms darted in and around the peculiar branchlike growths formed by the hexalates.

None of the crystalline growths possessed the gentle curves or smooth surfaces of the corals of Earth. Large or small, the formations universally displayed straight, angular architecture, a crystallographer's nightmare.

The tiny creatures whose decomposed skeletons

formed the sand that filled the lagoon's bottom and comprised its sh.o.r.es created their exoskeletons from silicon, whereas the corals of Earth utilized lime. The beaches of Cachalot were made of gla.s.s. Multicolored gla.s.s at that, for minute quant.i.ties of different miner- als were enough to produce hexalates of every color of the spectrum. The tridee solidos Cora had seen of Cachalot's islands reminded her of vast heaps of gem- stones.

She could see buildings now, built on the nearest outer island. Scattered here and there around the structures were long, low green plants. They were sea- langes, varieties of local plant life that had developed the ability to take oxygen from the air instead of from the water. Their roots were anch.o.r.ed deep within the body of the reef.

More familiar vegetation had been used to landscape the complex. Cora recognized numerous varieties of off-world, salt-tolerant plant life, including several from Earth. Outstanding among the latter were the prosaic, arching shapes of coconut palms. Probably the plants and the soil they survived in were imported.

Several small docks came into view. Men and women worked on or near them, engaged in unknown tasks.

All were clad in the barest essentials. Wide-brimmed dark hats seemed popular among many. The instru- ment belts several wore contained more material than the rest of their clothing.

Turning right, the shuttle slid toward several large, two-storied structures. Traveling in the opposite direc- tion, a small skimmer roared past. Its crew waved cheerily at the shuttle's occupants.

The once reverberant thunder of the shuttle's engines had been reduced to a chemical snore. They coughed once or twice more as the pilot altered the shuttle's heading slightly. Then it was sitting silently alongside a floating dock of brown polymer. The dock bobbed between thin posts of green gla.s.s.

20.

CACHALOT.

CACHALOT.

21.

Cora wondered if the gla.s.s was composed of hexal- ate sands, decided that most likely it was. Any out- post world had to make the most of its own resources.

Self-sufficiency was the goal of every colony. She ex- pected to find a great many of Cachalot's everyday items constructed of gla.s.s. A small suprafoil was linked to the far side of the dock.

The forward door between the pilot's compartment and the pa.s.sengers' was opened. A gust of warm air filled the cabin, replacing the stale canned atmosphere with dampness and the strong, pungent aroma of the sea. Cora inhaled, her eyes closing in pleasure. Per- fume, pure perfume.

"Why is it," Rachael was grumbling, "that all the oceans of all the planets have to stink?"

They had been through such arguments before. Cora did not comment on her daughter's insensitivity to one of the most wonderful smells in the universe.