Free Brightness Reef by David Brin Page B

now-ow!”
    “You did most of the carpentry and testing,” I pointed out. “Huck and I mostly drew up plans for-“
    “Exactly!” Huck interrupted, two eyes bobbing for emphasis. “Sure, we helped with designs and small parts. That was fun. But I never signed on to actually ride the dam’ thing to the bottom of the sea.”
    Pincer’s blue cupola lifted all the way up, and his slit-of-eyes seemed to spin. “But you said it was interesting-ing! You called the idea uttergloss-loss!”
    “True,” Huck agreed. “In theory, it’s totally puff. But there’s one problem, friend. It’s also jeekee dangerous.”
    Pincer rocked back, as if the thought had never occurred to him. “You . . . never said anything about that before.”
    I turned to look at Huck. I don’t think I ever heard her speak that word till then. Dangerous. In all our adventures growing up, she always seemed the one ready to take a chance, sometimes daring the rest of us with -cutting taunts, the way only a g’Kek can on those rare occasions when they put away politeness and try to be nasty. With Huck an orphan, and Ur-ronn and Pincer coming from low-kay races, no one was going to miss them much if they died. So it normally fell on me to be the voice of caution-a role I hated.
    “Yeah,” Huck said. “Well, maybe it’s time someone pointed out the difference between taking a calculated risk and committing flat-out suicide. Which is what it’d be if we ever took a ride aboard that contraption of yours, Pincer!”
    Our poor qheuenish friend looked like someone had stuck him in a leg-vent with a stick. His cupola went all wobbly. “You all know-ow I’d never ask my friends-ends-“
    “To go anywhere you wouldn’t go?” Huck retorted. “Big of you, since you’re talking about dragging us around underwater, where you ‘re built to be perfectly comfortable.”
    “Only at first-irst!” Pincer retorted. “After some test dives, we’ll go deeper. And I’ll be in there with you, taking all the same chances-ances!”
    “Come on, Huck,” I put in. “Give the poor guy’s shell a buff.”
    “Anyway-ay,” Pincer retaliated, “what about your plan? At least the bathy would be lawful and upright. You want to break the rules and do sooner stuff-uff!”
    Now it was Huck’s turn to go defensive. “What sooner stuff? None of us can breed with each other, so there’s no chance of committing that crime .while we’re over the border. Anyhow, hunters and inspectors go beyond the markers.”
    “Sure. With permission from the sages-ages!”
    Huck shrugged two stalks, as if to say she couldn’t be bothered with petty legalistic details. “I still prefer a misdemeanor over flat-out suicide.”
    “You mean you prefer a silly little trip to some broken-down Buyur ruin, just to read boring ol’ wall markings-ings, over a chance to see the Midden-idden? And real live monsters?”
    Huck groaned and spun a disgusted circle. Earlier, Pincer had told us about a thing he glimpsed that morning, in the shallows south of town. Something with silvery-bright scales swooped by, he swore, flapping what looked in the murky distance like underwater wings. After hearing similar stories almost since Pincer’s molting day, we didn’t give this one a lot of credit.
    That was when both of them turned to me to decide!
    “Remember, Alvin,” Huck crooned. “You just promised-“
    “You promised me, months ago!” Pincer cried, so avid that he didn’t stutter.
    Right then I felt like a traeki standing between two piles of really ripe mulch. I liked the notion of getting to see the deep Midden, where everything slick and Galactic had gone since the Buyur went away. An undersea adventure like in books by Haller or Verne.
    On the other hand, Huck was right about Pincer’s plan being Ifni-spit. The risk might seem worth it to a low-kay qheuen, who didn’t even know for sure who his mother was, but I know my folks would sicken awful if I went off and died without