strangers. The subjects of their attention had been herded together just in front of the open hold.

Mataroreva and a groggy Merced gave some thought to their making a concerted charge for the railing, figuring that if they all went in different direc- tions, the woman couldn't hit more than two of them before the others were well on their way to the secret

places of the reef.

It was Merced who finally vetoed the idea. Even if three of them made it successfully over the side, these people doubtless possessed at least the standard vari- eties of detection equipment. They were obviously adept at ferreting out sunken valuables. It would not be difficult for them to find a few divers.

A better idea might be to rush the woman, since no one else had yet thought to bring up additional weap- ons. Unfortunately, this idea lost its appeal when five more divers appeared, all of them armed with identi- cal gas-dart weapons save for one. The latter carried a squat device that projected explosive sh.e.l.ls for deal- ing with particularly stubborn forms of sea life.

So the captives waited and pondered the possible profile of the person the woman had called Ha- zaribagh, who would decide their fate. At least they weren't to be murdered out of hand. And why should they be? Hadn't the woman insisted she and her co- horts had killed no one?

It seemed to Cora that the more they learned about the destroyed towns of Cachalot, the less they knew.

It was like breaking an egg. Instead of finding a yolk inside, they found two more eggs. And four inside the two. And so on and so on, on to utter frustration.

A guard kept watch on them all night. In the morn- ing they were given a surprisingly pleasant meal. Ra- chael asked for permission to take possession of her

neurophon. t The woman withdrew it from the watertight con- J tainer but paused before handing it over. As Rachael

watched anxiously, the woman and another of their guards removed a back panel. The two of them con- sulted before the first dislodged a pair of tiny solid- state modules. Then the instrument was handed to its owner.

"Now you can play all the music you want," the stocky blonde told Rachael pleasantly, "but without neuronics. In the proper hands, that otherwise delight- ful device could be very disconcerting if someone knew how to maltune the projections."

"I wasn't thinking of that," Rachael protested indig- nantly.

"Maybe not. But I am."

The midday meal pa.s.sed with the divers continuing their salvage operation. Soon after, another vessel ap- peared on the horizon. It was much larger than either of the suprafoils. It was also of old-fashioned but proven design. There were no foils. Beneath the dou- ble hull of the ma.s.sive catamaran, a foil could fit neatly alongside hull doors and portals. There it could unload even in rough weather, shielded by the bulk of the mother ship.

The sleek ma.s.s anch.o.r.ed nearby and their foil pulled in underneath. Cora noted the blotches on the twin hulls and on the huge deck shading them. The craft was well used.

An elevator descended to the deck of the foil. They boarded and were carried up to the larger vessel's main deck. A walkway took them to a second deck near the stern. In addition to communications equip- ment and a recorder, they found chairs, tables, a por- table autochef, and several very large men holding large guns.

There was also a small, dusky character clad in a khaki-colored shirt and vest. Several necklaces framed his thin brown chest and the white and black hair sprouting there. White teeth alternated with faceted red and yellow gems in the necklace. Straight black

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hair was combed directly back and tied in a knot with red and yellow cord. Extremely bushy white sideburns flanked the narrow, tiny face.

A thin black and white mustache curled upward to- ward ink-black eyes, was dampened slightly when the man took a drink from the tall metal gla.s.s on the table in front of him. He looked for all the world like an elderly bureaucrat on vacation. But his face, as he turned to inspect them, was troubled.

"Hazaribagh. Dewas Hazaribagh," Mataroreva mur- mured.

"Yes. Mataroreva, isn't it?" The man's voice was high, and as sharp as a paper cut.

Cora's gaze traveled from stranger to companion.

"Yeah, I know him now," Mataroreva said. "He manages this factory ship. Independent operator. The two foils are gathering and scouting craft for the big one, in case you haven't figured that out already. A modest operation, if I recall the lists right. Not the largest working on Cachalot, nor by any means the smallest."

"A correct appraisal," Hazaribagh agreed easily.

"Honest folk trying to make an honest living by fight- ing whole floating towns financed by huge interstellar companies and big new ships bankrolled by wealthy merchant families. That kind of compet.i.tion makes mere fiscal survival a matter of thin margin."

" 'Honest living,' " Dawn sneered. "I could laugh, if you hadn't just murdered every friend I ever had!"

"You're a former inhabitant of Vai'oire?" Ha- zaribagh looked shocked. "I was told, but I didn't. . ."

His voice changed as he abruptly took a different tack. "Are you all former townsfolk? Which of you are and which of you aren't?"

No one said anything.

"Come, come, it really doesn't matter where you're from. I'm just curious." He pointed at Mataroreva.

"Him I know from the planetary gendarmerie. The

young lady who just spoke," and he indicated Dawn, "has confessed that she resided here. What of the rest of you?"

Cora, Rachael, and Merced remained silent.

"Well, you disappoint me. But as I said, it doesn't really matter. Keep your little secrets, if you must."

He looked back at Dawn, his fingers flicking away the condensation from the chilled flanks of the gla.s.s in his hands. It exuded a sweet aroma.

"I'm being perfectly honest with you. I said 'honest living.' Well, perhaps 'semihonest' would be more ac- curate now. But we're no ma.s.s murderers, no matter what you think."

"How do you do it?" Cora blurted, unable to keep her curiosity in check any longer.

"Do what?"

"Control the cetaceans. Order them to destroy-"

She stopped. Hazaribagh was laughing. In the face of such callous indifference to death, Cora could say nothing. He did not laugh so much as chirp.

"Really, lady, you ascribe to me qualities and gen- ius I truly wish I possessed. Sadly, it is not so. I am not the mad scientist of so many tridee thrillers. I'm not even a scientist. Only a businessman casually em- ploying oceanographic technology. Certainly I don't have the knowledge to carry out ma.s.s murder, even if I wished to do so. Control the Cetacea? No one can do that."

"Then," Rachael hesitated, "then how? ..."

Hazaribagh put up a hand for silence. Walking over to the upper deck railing, he stared in the direction of the reef and the former anchorage of Vai'oire Town.

"We happened on I'a immediately after it was de- stroyed. It was pure accident. There was no signal from them, no indication of trouble. We just happened to be in the area. We were utterly stunned by what had taken place, and the first thing we did was look

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for survivors." Dawn made a noise. He turned, glared hard at her, his voice rising.

"Yes, we searched for survivors! We suspected it was the whales. Maybe they hadn't perfected their method of a.s.sault yet-I'a was the first town to be hit. We saw a couple of big backs floating around.