ficial gills such as those employed in gelsuit masks could not operate at these depths.

The viscous miasma that had been dulling Cora's mind was abruptly shattered. She looked at her com- panions as if they had surprised her from a deep sleep, saw that they were regarding her with the same bemused expressions. Only then did Merced relax. But he still held the gun.

"A very sophisticated bit of mind control, this," he told them. "Contradiction finally broke its grip, just as it did with the surviving baleens that led us here.

It was reimposed and finally killed them, but I think we'll be able to stand it better now. I think it varies in intensity and effectiveness proportional to the dis- tance between projector and subject, which says to me that our quarry is still here, close by, just as the baleens suggested." He was getting angry now, sounding noth- ing like the shy biologist of weeks gone by.

"This sort of thing is banned by every related Com- monwealth law and Church edict. Either someone's managed to break those laws or else we're facing those who don't care about them. Like the AAnn, or another hostile race that could benefit from Commonwealth expulsion from this world.

"The controls were put on you all so subtly that even though you were talking about such controls and their possible manipulators, you weren't aware it was ac- tually happening. When you all suddenly agreed that the search was useless and that it was time to return to the surface, I knew what was taking place."

"How come," Cora wondered, terribly embarra.s.sed at having been so thoroughly invaded and directed, "you weren't controlled?"

"Even though such devices are illegal, the service still trains us to deal with them. It's a matter of mental gymnastics, a reflex action that commenced working even before I knew what was happening." He sounded a little embarra.s.sed himself. "If there had been a fight,

I would have risked killing all of you. There's more at stake here now than just thousands of additional lives.

"I regret having had to expose myself, but at this point I don't suppose it makes much difference." He looked briefly at Rachael and said in an entirely dif- ferent tone of voice, "Except maybe to you.

"Do you still feel we should return to the surface?

That we're wasting our tune here?"

"No. Of course not," Cora said, shocked that she could ever have thought otherwise. "They must still be hiding here. You say that distance governs the ef- fectiveness of the controls and contradiction breaks them down?"

"That, and awareness that they exist. Especially after you've been exposed to and then freed from their effect. That's part of our training, along with resisting drugs that have the same effect."

"I've got something here." Mataroreva had turned his attention back to the instruments. "I suppose it might have been here all along, and whatever's out there blocked it out in my mind?"

"Possible," Merced agreed.

Mataroreva moved to adjust the controls, paused, and glanced over his shoulder.

"It's okay." Merced lowered the weapon. "The fact that you hesitated is further proof that you're your own self again. What kind of submersible is it: mobile or a permanent installation?"

"Neither," Mataroreva said in a curious voice. "It's organic."

"Another ribbon fish?" Cora asked, referring to the luminescent giant they had encountered earlier in their descent.

"No, I don't think so."

The object continued slowly toward the neutrally buoyant craft. At first it was a distant pinpoint, glow- ing like a star in the night. The surrounding deep-sea

254 CACHALOT.

life scattered rapidly and faded from sight. Only breathing sounded inside the submersible.

The star grew larger, split, subdivided into many different stars. All the while it continued to grow, il- luminating the darkness as it neared, growing ma.s.sive beyond expectation, beyond belief. It became so bright that they could see the last lingering sea life race, terrified, past the windows of the submersible, their transparent skins gla.s.sine envelopes holding highly pressurized fluids and organs.

The huge bulk grew beyond imagination, beyond reasonable thought. Cora wondered if Sam had been wrong, if they were being challenged by a machine, albeit no submersible she had ever dreamed of.

But the instruments were not awed. They did not lie. If the object was a machine, it was made not of metal or stelamic or duralloy but of flesh. As it ap- proached the final meters, it a.s.sumed some of the aspects of a machine. It was easier to think of it that way; as a vast, organic machine. It was perfectly spherical. Delicate fluttering cilia in the millions lined much of the epidermis and propelled it rotiferlike through the water. The outer, jellylike sh.e.l.l was per- fectly transparent. Only its pale yellow glow revealed its presence.

Inside, they could make out a veritable metropolis of organs, immensely complex structures that belied that outwardly simplistic shape. There were growths moving freely in strange paths, others swinging like a pendulum, still others rotating about one another or some unseen central axis. Each possessed its own dis- tinct color: faint pink, light green, purple, rose, and more. Most were light pastels. Save for the purple, the only deep colors were occasional sparks of crimson or orange that drifted around the mult.i.tude of other spe- cialized internal structures like gem dust in a colloid.

The headache Cora had once experienced returned, stronger than ever. It thudded remorselessly on her

255.

brain, threatening to pulp her skull. She fought back, determined that mere bone would give way before consciousness again surrendered.

Outside floated something larger than any dozen whales, a ball of something unknown that approached starship-size. It was bright as day around them, for all that they hovered more than five and a half kilo- meters below the surface.

Merced, studying readouts, swallowed and managed to say, "According to the scanners, there are six of them out there. Of course, we can only see this one."

The vast lagoon of Mou'anui could not have held the life that surrounded them. Six creatures do not a galaxy make, Cora told herself, for all their size. She found herself fascinated rather than fearful. Before her drifted the end result of billions of years of coelen- terate evolution, a collective organism of ummagined complexity.

On Terra similar creatures had developed spe- cialized polyps to handle such tasks as digestion, re- production, and feeding. Why not also polyps grown for mind control, or for other unknown purposes?

For all its great size, the creature appeared limited in its locomotive ability. It would need to evolve other means of defending itself. Terran coelenterates had developed specialized stinging cells to gather prey and defend. What could be more efficient than the ability to simply order a predator to look elsewhere?

But ignorant predators would be easy to dissuade.

Intelligent cetaceans would be more difficult to han- dle. Very intelligent ones like the orcas and the cato- dons might be impossible to control at all but short distances; and humankind, uncontrollable except when dangerously near. An aroused or aware humankind, such as Merced had been and they all were now, might prove uncontrollable under any circ.u.mstances.

Somewhere within that line of thought, Cora sus- pected, lay the reason behind the manipulation of the

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CACHALOT.

baleens and the destruction of the floating towns. She stared into the living universe of organs. One of them, or perhaps many, must form the creature's mind.

Then Rachael shrieked, Mataroreva cursed, and the submersible was tumbled over and over as the creature b.u.mped into it. A second came around from behind and they began to squeeze. Mental control having apparently failed, they were resorting to a far more basic method of attack.

A few supporting flows groaned, but the hull of formed duralloy would resist far stronger force than mere flesh, no matter the ma.s.s, could bring to bear.

The creatures could not damage the submersible.

They reacted by backing clear. Alternately fading and intensifying, the outer sh.e.l.l of the one before them pulsed in rapid sequence. Crimson fragments of un- known specialized function flared and raced within, a thousand living sunspots inhabiting a transparent sun.

Their activity might signify anything from poor diges- tion to incipient sleep.

Or it might be a reflection of something as basic and sophisticated as anger.

XVII.

Cora picked herself off the floor, found she had suffered nothing worse than a few bruises. Here, then, was the source of the baleens' madness, here the off- stage directors of organized murder.

The headache faded and Cora and her companions received their second surprise. "CAN YOU UNDER- STAND us?"