Cley had to remind herself that these gliding shapes and their cool, soundless, artful movements were actually a savage attack, remorseless and efficient. Vacuum gave even death a quality of silent grace. Yet the beauty of threat shone through, a quality shared alike by the grizzly, falcon and rattler.

             Her ears popped again. "If we lose all our air . . ."

             "We should not," Seeker said, though it was plainly worried, its coat running with swarthy spirals. "Membranes close to limit the loss."

             "Good," Cley said uncertainly. But as she spoke a wind rose, sucking dry leaves into a cyclone about them.

             "That should not happen," Seeker said stiffly.

             "Look."

             Outside two skysharks were wriggHng into older gouges. Air had ceased to stream from them, so the beasts could enter easily.

             Others withdrew from the rents they had torn after only a few vicious bites. They jetted along the broad sweep of skin, seeking other weak points. In their tails were nozzled and gimbled chambers. She saw a bright flame as hydrogen peroxide and catalase combined in these, puffs and streamers pushing them adroitly along the rumpled brown hide.

             From the gaping gashes where skysharks had entered came fresh puffs of air. Some carried animals tumbling in the thinning gale, and skysharks snapped these up eagerly.

             "The ones that went inside—they must be tearing up those membranes," Cley said. "Sucks out the protected areas."

             Seeker braced itself against the steadily gathering winds. "A modified tactic. Even if those inside perish, their fellows benefit from the added game. Good for the species overall, despite the sacrifice of a few."

             "Yeah, but what'll we do?”

             "Come."

             Seeker launched itself away and Cley followed. Between bounces off trunks and bowers. Seeker curled up into a ball to minimize the pull of the howling gale. Cley copied this, narrowing her eyes against the rain of leaves and bark and twigs that raked her.

             Seeker led her along a zigzag path just beneath the Leviathan's skin. Despite the whirling winds she heard the yelps and cries of animals. A catlike creature lost its grip on a tubular root and pin-wheeled away, A triangular mat with legs caroomed off Seeker and ricocheted from Cley before whirling into the madhouse mist.

             They came to a system like a heart, with veins and arteries stretching away in all directions. The wind moaned and gathered itself here with a promise of worse to come. The open wounds behind them were probably tearing further, she guessed, evacuating more and more of the Leviathan. For the first time it occurred to Cley that even this colossal creature could perhaps die, its fluids and air bled into space.

             She hurried after Seeker. A gray cloud streamed by them, headed toward the sighing breezes. Cley recognized this flight of thumb-sized flyers which had made up the Captain, now streaming to defend its ship. There might even be more than one Captain, or a crew of the anthology-beings. Or perhaps the distinction of individual entities was meaningless.

             Ahead was a zone of gauzy, translucent surfaces lit by phosphorescent streaks. Seeker grabbed a sheet of the waxy stuff^, which seemed to be a great membrane upon which pollen caught. Even in the chaos of drifting debris Cley could see that this was part of an enormous plant. They were at the tip of a great pistil. Seeker was wrenching off a slab of its sticky walls. Above this was a broad transparent dome which brought sunlight streaming into the leathery bud of the plant. Its inner bulb had mirrored surfaces which reflected the intense sunlight into bright blades, sending illumination deep into the inner recesses of the Leviathan.

             She took this in at a glance. Then Seeker yanked her into position on the bulb wall, where her feet caught in sticky goo. Seeker barked orders and Cley followed them, fashioning the tough sheet into a pyramidal shape. Seeker stuck the edges together with the wall adhesive. It turned down the last side, leaving them inside the pyramid. They drifted toward the transparent ceiling, moving on an eddy of the slowly building winds. Seeker crouched at an apex of the pyramid. It touched the ceiling and did something quickly to the wall—and they passed through, into naked space.

             "This will last for only a while," Seeker said.

             "Till we run out of air," Cley said.

             "If that long."

             The advantage of living construction material was that it grew together, encouraged by an adhesive, becoming tighter than any manufactured seal. Nature loved the smooth and seamless. Soon their pyramid held firm and snug.

             They drifted away from Leviathan. Cley hoped the skysharks would ignore them, and indeed the predators were nuzzling greedily at the raw wounds amidships. Around Leviathan was a swarm of debris. Into this cloud came spaceborne life of every description. Some were smaller predators who scavenged on whatever the skysharks left. Others spread great gossamer sheets to catch the air which poured forth from the Leviathan's wounds. Small creatures billowed into great gas bags, fat with rare wealth. Limpets crawled eagerly along the crusty hide toward the rents. When they arrived they caught streamers of fluid that spouted irregularly into the vacuum.

             This was a riotous harvest for some; Cley could see joy in the excited darting of thin-shelled beetles who snatched at the tumbling fragments of once-glorious ferns. The wounds created fountains that shot motley clouds of plant and animal life into a gathering crowd of eager consumers, their appetites quickened by the bounty of gushing air.

             "Hope they don't fancy our taste," Cley said.

             Her mouth was dry and she had long since passed the point of fear. Now she simply watched. Gargantuan forces had a way of rendering her pensive, reflective. This trait had been more eff"ective in the survival of Ur-humans than outright aggression or conspicuous gallantry and it did not fail her now. Visible fear would have attracted attention. They drifted among the myriad spaceborne forms, perhaps too strange a vessel to encourage ready attack; even hungry predators wisely select food they know.

             "Do you think they will kill Leviathan?" Cley asked.

             "Mountains do not fear ants," Seeker answered.

             "But they're gutting it!"

             "They cannot persist for long inside the mountain. For the space-borne, air in plenty is a quick poison."

             "Oxygen?"

             "It kindles the fires that animate us. Too much, and ..."

             Seeker pointed. Now curls of smoke trickled from the ragged wounds. The puffs of air had thinned but they carried black streamers.

             "The skysharks can forage inside until the air makes their innards burn." Seeker watched the spectacle with almost scholarly interest.

             "They die, so that others can eat the Leviathan?"

             "Apparently. Though I suspect this behavior has other purposes, as well."

             "All this pillaging? It's awful."

             "Yes. Many have died. But not those for whom this raid was intended."

             "Who's that?"

             "Us."

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