wide, and the bottom was covered in pulverized wood and leaves. Therewere small animals inside with them: several smilers, a selection of smaller species, and thousands of tiny smooth-skinned creatures smaller than shrews. Like the other animals they had seen in Themis, these paid no attention to them.
They could see out on all sides, and found they were already some distance from the cliff face.
“If this place isn’t Whistlestop’s stomach, what is it?” Cirocco asked.
Calvin looked puzzled.
“I never said it wasn’t his stomach. This is his food we’re standing on.”
Gaby moaned and tried to run back the way she had come in. Cirocco grabbed her and held her down. She looked up at Calvin.
“It’s all right,” he said. “He can only digest with the help of these little animals. He eats their end product. His digestive juices can’t hurt any more than weak tea.”
“You hear that, Gaby?” Cirocco whispered in her ear. “We’re going to be all right. Calm down, honey.”
“I h-hear. Don’t be mad at me. I’m frightened.”
“I know. Come on, stand up and look out. That’ll take your mind off it.” She helped her up, and they wallowed over to the clear stomach wall. It was like walking on a trampoline. Gaby pressed her nose and hands to it and spent the rest of the trip sobbing and staring fixedly into space. Cirocco left her alone, and went to Calvin.
“You’ve got to be more careful of her,” she said, quietly. “The time in the darkness has affected her more than us.” She narrowed her eyes and searched his face. “Except I don’t really know about you.”
“I’m all right,” he said. “But I don’t want to talk about my life before my re-birth. That’s over.”
“Funny. Gaby said pretty much the same thing. I can’t see it that way.”
Calvin shrugged, plainly not interested in what either of them thought.
“All right. I’d appreciate it if you told me what you know. I don’t care how you learned it if you don’t want to tell me.”
Calvin thought it over, and nodded.
“I can’t teach you their language quickly. It’s mostly tone and duration, and I can only speak a pidgen version based on the lower tones I can hear.
“They come in all sizes from about ten meters to slightly larger than Whistlestop. They often travel in schools; this one has some smaller attendants which you didn’t see because they stayed on his other side. There’s some of them now.”
He pointed out the window, where a flight of six twenty-meter blimps jostled for position. They looked like ponderous fish. Cirocco could hear shrill whistles.
“They’re friendly, and quite intelligent. They don’t have any natural enemies. They generate hydrogen from their food and keep it under a slight pressure. They carry water for ballast, drop it when they want to rise, valve off hydrogen when they want to go down. Their skin is tough, but if it gets torn they usually die.
“They’re not very maneuverable. They don’t have much fine control, and it takes them a long time to get moving. A fire can trap them sometimes. If they can’t get away, they go up like a bomb.”
“What about all these creatures in here?” Cirocco asked. “Do they need all of them to digest their food?”
“No, just the little yellow ones. Those things can’t eat anything but what a blimp prepares for them. You won’t find them anywhere but in a blimp’s stomach. The rest of these critters are like us. Hitchhikers or passengers.”
“I don’t get it. Why does the blimp do it?”
“It’s symbiosis, combined with the intelligence to make his own choices and do as he pleases. His race gets along with other races in here, the Titanides in particular. He does them favors, and they return it by—”
“Titanides?”
He smiled uncertainly, and spread his hands. “It’s a word I substitute for a whistle he uses. I only get a hazy idea of what they’re like because I can’t do too well with complex
They could see out on all sides, and found they were already some distance from the cliff face.
“If this place isn’t Whistlestop’s stomach, what is it?” Cirocco asked.
Calvin looked puzzled.
“I never said it wasn’t his stomach. This is his food we’re standing on.”
Gaby moaned and tried to run back the way she had come in. Cirocco grabbed her and held her down. She looked up at Calvin.
“It’s all right,” he said. “He can only digest with the help of these little animals. He eats their end product. His digestive juices can’t hurt any more than weak tea.”
“You hear that, Gaby?” Cirocco whispered in her ear. “We’re going to be all right. Calm down, honey.”
“I h-hear. Don’t be mad at me. I’m frightened.”
“I know. Come on, stand up and look out. That’ll take your mind off it.” She helped her up, and they wallowed over to the clear stomach wall. It was like walking on a trampoline. Gaby pressed her nose and hands to it and spent the rest of the trip sobbing and staring fixedly into space. Cirocco left her alone, and went to Calvin.
“You’ve got to be more careful of her,” she said, quietly. “The time in the darkness has affected her more than us.” She narrowed her eyes and searched his face. “Except I don’t really know about you.”
“I’m all right,” he said. “But I don’t want to talk about my life before my re-birth. That’s over.”
“Funny. Gaby said pretty much the same thing. I can’t see it that way.”
Calvin shrugged, plainly not interested in what either of them thought.
“All right. I’d appreciate it if you told me what you know. I don’t care how you learned it if you don’t want to tell me.”
Calvin thought it over, and nodded.
“I can’t teach you their language quickly. It’s mostly tone and duration, and I can only speak a pidgen version based on the lower tones I can hear.
“They come in all sizes from about ten meters to slightly larger than Whistlestop. They often travel in schools; this one has some smaller attendants which you didn’t see because they stayed on his other side. There’s some of them now.”
He pointed out the window, where a flight of six twenty-meter blimps jostled for position. They looked like ponderous fish. Cirocco could hear shrill whistles.
“They’re friendly, and quite intelligent. They don’t have any natural enemies. They generate hydrogen from their food and keep it under a slight pressure. They carry water for ballast, drop it when they want to rise, valve off hydrogen when they want to go down. Their skin is tough, but if it gets torn they usually die.
“They’re not very maneuverable. They don’t have much fine control, and it takes them a long time to get moving. A fire can trap them sometimes. If they can’t get away, they go up like a bomb.”
“What about all these creatures in here?” Cirocco asked. “Do they need all of them to digest their food?”
“No, just the little yellow ones. Those things can’t eat anything but what a blimp prepares for them. You won’t find them anywhere but in a blimp’s stomach. The rest of these critters are like us. Hitchhikers or passengers.”
“I don’t get it. Why does the blimp do it?”
“It’s symbiosis, combined with the intelligence to make his own choices and do as he pleases. His race gets along with other races in here, the Titanides in particular. He does them favors, and they return it by—”
“Titanides?”
He smiled uncertainly, and spread his hands. “It’s a word I substitute for a whistle he uses. I only get a hazy idea of what they’re like because I can’t do too well with complex
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