"You have people working now, right?"

"Yes," Janet said. "We've been operating round the clock since we were ordered off. We used to run a fairly leisurely show. No more."

"What specifically are you looking for?"

"Casumel Linear C," Janet replied. "We want to read the inscription." Her liquid eyes watched Hutch. "There's a military post buried beneath the Lower Temple. The race that operated the post spoke Linear C."

"Frank told us about that. You're hoping to find a Rosetta stone."

Several passageways opened off the community room. They exited through one into a tube. The walls were transparent, and the visual effect, enhanced by strategically placed outside lighting, and luminous fish, was striking. Seapoint was a lovely place, although it had a claustrophobic aspect.

"A Rosetta stone is probably too much to ask for," Janet said. "Some more samples might be enough."

"How much success are you having?"

"Some. We've found a couple of inscriptions. What we really need to do is penetrate the lower sections. But there are engineering problems. We have to cut under the Upper Temple. It's shaky, and it wouldn't take much to bring everything down. So it's slow going. Moreover, the sea bottom is filled with silt. The tides throw it back into the excavations as quickly as we can remove it." She looked tired. "The answers are here, Hutch. But we won't have the time to get at them."

They crossed into a dome. Janet opened a door, turned on the lights, and revealed a pleasant, and reasonably spacious, apartment. "VIP quarters," she said. "Breakfast is at seven. If you want to sleep late, that's fine. The duty officer's available on the link."

"Thank you."

"There's a dispenser in the community room if you get hungry. Is there anything you need?"

"I think I'm fine."

"Okay. My first name activates my private channel. Don't hesitate to call if you need anything." She hesitated in the doorway. "We're glad to have you aboard, Hutch. This place has become something of a strain. I think we need some new people." She smiled. "Good night."

Hutch closed the door behind her, and tossed her bag onto a divan. Curtains covered one wall. She opened them and looked into the living sea. Small fish, startled by the sudden movement, darted away. A pseudo-turtle swam slowly past; and a diaphanous creature with large disc eyes, drawn by the light, poked at the plastene. "Hello," she said, knocking at the barrier. There was a control for outside illumination. She reduced the intensity, but did not turn it off.

She unpacked and showered and took a book to bed, but was too tired to read.

There were a host of sounds at Seapoint. In the dark, the walls creaked and groaned, things bumped against the hull, electrical systems came on and went off throughout the night. It occurred to Hutch, as she drifted off, that this entire complex would shortly become part of the wreckage at the Temple of the Winds.

She woke shortly after six, feeling uneasy. The windows and the sea were illuminated by wide shafts of sunlight.

Time to get to work. She dressed rapidly, as if she were running behind schedule, and went to the community room. Despite Janet's assurances, it was empty. She ate a leisurely breakfast and, when she'd finished, opened a channel to the duty officer. Janet was still on duty. "Don't you ever sleep?" Hutch asked.

"Good morning, Hutch. I get plenty of sleep; I just don't get to my room much. How was your night?"

"Fine. Real good. What do you have for me?"

"Nothing for the moment. You are going to be busy, because we have a lot of artifacts to move up, as well as people. Frank will be helping with the Temple shuttle, by the way. But we haven't quite got things organized yet. I'd say your morning's free. We'll call you when we need you."

It would be nice to see the Knothic Towers in the sunlight.

"Okay," she said. She thought about asking whether the sub was available, but decided against any action that would brand her early on as a nuisance. Instead, she retrieved her harness, and found an exit pool. She checked her air supply. It was ample. She looped her commlink around her throat, and activated the field. Then she slipped into the water, opened the outer doors, and swam out of the dome.

Thirty minutes later, she surfaced a half-kilometer from the floatpier. It was a glorious morning. The sun blazed over silver peaks, broad white beaches, and blue sea. Long breakers rumbled against black rocks. Creatures that bore a close resemblance to pelicans patrolled the surface, occasionally dipping into the water for a squirming meal.

And the Towers: they rose out of the boiling sea in magnificent defiance. The last stronghold. They were as black by day as they had been by night.

Hutch was a good swimmer, and she set off toward the floatpier with a steady stroke. The tide was running against her, but not so swiftly that she couldn't make headway. She settled into her rhythm. The pelicans wheeled and flapped. Pity it was so cold; she'd have liked to dispense with the energy field. A swim during which you stayed perfectly dry lacked a little something.

Minutes later, she climbed out onto the planks with a sense of exhilaration, and took a deep breath from her bottled air.

The field clung to her, soft and warm.

The sea was calm. She sat down on the pier.

The lower sections of the Towers were polished by the constant wave action. Like the Temple, they too had been on dry land in the recent past, sacred markers at a crossroads on highways connecting empires. A place for travelers to stop and contemplate the majesty and kindness of the gods. Atop the nearest, she saw movement. Something with white feathers stretched and fluttered.

Hutch had consulted maps before coming out, and knew where to look for the old imperial road, which was now only a steep defile northbound through the mountains that lined the shore.

The strategic value of the intersection had been guarded by a fort, as well as by the gods. By a succession of forts, actually, over the millennia. The forts now lay beneath the Temple. And the Temple lay beneath the sea.

She wondered what might have prompted a meeting between the relatively dormant Quraquat and the star travelers?

On the beach, something caught her eye. Movement. Something like a man.

It walked upright toward the water's edge. Two more followed. They were hard to see clearly against the sand, and only when they passed in front of a cluster of rocks could she make out their white fur and sloped, horned heads. Well down the beach, another of the creatures stooped over a tidal pool.

She couldn't see their eyes, but they had large floppy ears, and the one by the tidal pool carried a stick. Others were descending from the pass which had once been the northern road. Several were half-grown.

They fanned out along the beach, the adults keeping the young firmly in tow. Three or four took up stations well apart, and looked out to sea. Then, as if someone had given a signal, the cubs charged across the sand, whooping and cackling and pursuing each other. Some stopped to poke at objects lying on the beach; others bolted into the waves.

Behind her, Alpha rose on the tide, and the Temple shuttle nosed gently into the pier.

The creatures on the beach seemed to be having a pretty good time. Hutch became gradually aware of a thin piping sound, a high-pitched trill almost lost in the brisk wind and the roar of the morning. It was birdlike, and she looked overhead for its source but saw only bright sky and a few snowflakes.

One of the animals stood quietly by the water's edge. It seemed to be looking directly at her. Hutch stared back. When finally she grew uncomfortable under its gaze, she drew her knees up tight. It raised both forelimbs in what was unmistakably a greeting.