A gigantic wrinkled form settled in front of the subsled, its head alone taking up the space in front of the dome-port. Quillen-tok looked at Darcy inquiringly. Darcy nodded.
He rose from his seat, walked to the dome and placed his hands on the thick-domed canopy that separated him from the great whale. The whale drifted closer, its huge eye regarding the strange presence standing before it.
I think that’s the matriarch, Darcy said, in a hushed tone. . .
Suddenly, an undulating wave passed through Ridley. He felt as if he were being lifted out of his seat, then set back down again in a primal rhythm. He heard Quillen-tok’s voice, though the Delfinian elder wasn’t speaking aloud. He felt the great rolling wave again.
Ridley saw images. They were the images of whales swimming, hunting, mating, nursing their young. . .The reverberating wave in Ridley slowed, then ceased. The sperm whale’s eye opened, then blinked slowly. She hung in front of the sled for moments longer, then with a flash of her 15-foot flukes, turned toward the surface.
Ridley couldn’t bring himself to look at Mara-jul or Quillen-tok. She knows what’s going to happen. But how?
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