“Fire, we think,” Earrin supplemented in the regular mix of voice and gesture. “You see better than we. It’s smoke, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” a tentacle signified.
“Do you remember what was growing on the other side, there? It is explosive? Should we go closer, or stay here, or go back?”
“Not explosive, as I recall,” the Watcher signalled, “but of course it’s weeks since we were here.
New things could have grown, especially with those Young Ones around.”
“Do you really think they’d have that much influence? The normal Hiller would destroy anything that hadn’t been growing in the neighborhood for a hundred years.”
“If they saw it in time,” her husband pointed out. “Something could have gotten ahead of them.
But that doesn’t answer the question — should we risk getting closer, or wait until it burns out?”
“It’s safe enough to approach, I judge,” replied Bones’ tentacles — the being had neither voice nor breathing equipment. “The floats are well varnished, and the tent tissue does not burn too easily. What growth I see on this side of the hill is mostly low-power, though there are a few blasters, of course.”
“Are you sure?” asked Kahvi. “It looks to me as though nearly everything has become a shade lighter since we were last here. Couldn’t there be overgrowth? Or have you seen this before, too?”
“No. You are right. There is overgrowth. I must withdraw my assurance of safety for the raft.”
“And for the jail,” Earrin pointed out. “If fire gets there, we’d have to walk quite a distance to the next nearest air supply. I say it’s safer to get in there and clear risky plants away from the walls, if we can make it before the fire gets to this side of the hill.”
“I see no people near the jail,” Bones commented. “There might really be none, or they might beinside and not have seen the smoke yet, or all be across the hill fighting the fire already. I agree; it will be safest to protect the jail even at some risk to the raft. It would take little to unroof that structure.”
Without further gesture the streamlined form plunged back into the water, and a moment later the tow lines drew taut again.
Inside the tent, Danna was looking hopefully at her parents. She understood most of the gesturespeech, but had evidently missed some of what had just been said. Catching her father’s eye, she picked up her own breathing kit and made an inquiring gesture. The parents looked at each other and nodded. Dana’s happy grin disappeared behind her mask.
Kahvi and her husband resumed rowing, but both kept more attention on the child than on their goal for the next few minutes. Danna had been carefully brought up, but they would not have allowed her to get dressed for outdoors unsupervised any more than either of them would have allowed the other to do so.
The little one finished donning the acid-tight shorts, halter, and face mask. She slung the oxygen and absorber cartridges between her narrow shoulders, stood up, and turned slowly around for inspection.
Not until both parents had nodded approval did she step to the space where a float had been omitted from the deck structure, and slip into the water Both parents counted subvocally, but long before the twelve seconds which would have justified action had passed, the five-year-old’s head showed through the other opening in the deck.
She slid out of the water as smoothly as Bones; she had been swimming since before she could walk.
“Did Bones say it was a real fire?” The child was speaking as soon as her head was out of water. She used more words and fewer gestures than her parents, since her voice penetrated the mask better.
“It must be big. Why are we going closer? Can I row too?”
“Bones doesn’t know what’s burning, but it is a big fire,” replied her mother. “It may be dangerous, but we have to go close enough to save the jail — the air place on shore — in case the fire gets close to it.
It will help if you row, but you must stay here when we get to shore. You’ll have to take care of the raft and the tent, in case any sparks — little pieces of fire — fall on them. You have buckets ready and spill them on any fire that comes. If it doesn’t come, it will be good to spill them on the tent anyway; if it’s wet the fire won’t hurt it. All right?”
“Sure.” Danna picked up her small oar, went to her regular rowing station, and began to pull. It was doubtful whether Bones could feel the effect, but she put enough strain on the oar to feel useful.
The wind still held off, but as they approached the shore smoke came drifting to meet the raft.
Danna looked over her shoulder at it occasionally and Kahvi could see that the child was uneasy.
Neither adult, however, felt seriously concerned as long as the fire itself could not be seen, and their calmness kept the little one from panic, though she had been told so much about the dangers of fire.
Fifty meters from shore Bones form appeared, rearing up from the water and evidently standing on the bottom. The lines were still taut, but the human beings took the hint and stopped rowing.
The raft could not be brought ashore, since there had to be swimming space under it to enter and leave the tent. Bones had no need for air, but had been with them since before Danna’s birth and knew some of their physical requirements. One of the great eyes rolled back at the raft, while the other continued to watch the smoke, much heavier now, as it continued to jet upward from beyond the low ridge two hundred meters away.
There had been no explosions, but this was only mildly encouraging. Many plants contained both reducing tissue and nitrates, arranged with varying degrees of intimacy. They burned with varying rates when something did light them; the nitrogen real-life mutated so frequently and grew so rapidly that one could never be sure just what an apparently familiar type would do. Pseudolife was far more reliable, but there was little of that in sight.
“Nothing I can see is burning,” Danna said after looking carefully. “Do you think the fire will really come over this way?”
“We can’t be sure, so we’ll have to watch,” her father answered. “Your mother and Bones and I will all have to go ashore as soon as we’re anchored to clear plants away from the jail or do whatever else is needed to keep it from losing its roof — stone won’t burn, you know. You’ll have to take care of home,here.” The child nodded, and tried to put on a firm expression under her mask.
Bones had pulled the raft in almost to the proper depth, and now gestured that the anchors should be dropped. The adults went aft, and each lowered one of the tent-tissue sacks of boulders into the water.
Danna tried to get the bow anchor overboard, but its hundred kilogram weight was far too much for her.
Bones took a step toward the raft and eased the bag off the float; the child plunged in after it and swam along as it was borne a dozen meters shoreward and set firmly on the muddy bottom. Then Bones plunged back past the raft and positioned each of the other anchors in turn, the human beings paying out enough line to allow for the tide. Danna remained in the water trying to help until this job was finished; then a green-and-brown tentacle curled about her waist and lifted her, laughing, back to the deck beside her parents. They joined in the laughter for a moment, and then reached for the tools stacked beside the air tent.
“Get the buckets and keep the tent wet,” the mother repeated. “We’ll be able to hear you if you need us, and will watch, so don’t be afraid.” Kahvi plunged from the bow carrying a hoe-like implement of wood and glass. Her husband followed with a long pole carrying a sponge at the end.
Bones was already halfway to the beach. The others had no chance of catching up with the creature either swimming or running, but in a meter or so of water-too shallow for Bones to swim, too deep for the tentacular legs to work freely-they gained, and were close behind by the time they too had to wade.