Free Foreigner by Robert J. Sawyer

with the idea. After all, it was a logical
    extension of her own invention, the far-seer. The far-seer used lenses to make distant objects appear close, and this
    device, the small-seer, used lenses to make tiny objects visible. The small-seer’s inventor, Bor-Vanbelk of Pack
    Brampto in Arj’toolar, had discovered amazing things. Tiny lifeforms in a drop of water! Little disks within blood.
    Minuscule chambers in the leaf of a plant!
    Novato, balancing again on the side of the cliff, clinging with one hand to the rope web, was using a small-seer to
    examine the spreading blueness.
    Here, right at its very edge, she could see shifting patterns of dust. Even through the lenses, the grains were all but
    invisible. But unlike the random jostling in a drop of water, these motes moved in regular patterns, back and forth, up
    and down. It was as though Novato were watching a dance from the back of an impossibly high amphitheater, the
    individual dancers virtually impossible to discern but the mathematical precision of their movements still a thing of
    beauty.
    Dancers, thought Novato. Dancers smaller than the eye could see.
    But they weren’t just dancing. They were working, like ants building an anthill, moving with determined insectile
    exactness.
    Part of her said the little things must be alive, and part said that that was ridiculous, that nothing so ancient could be
    living. But if they were not lifeforms, then what could they be?
    Whatever they were, they were making phenomenal progress. Already, almost the entire cliff face was blue.
    If further contact was to be made with the Others, Toroca would have to go ashore — and he would have to do so
    alone. The Dasheter had sailed south and was now approaching the archipelago from a different direction so that the
    ship’s arrival would not immediately be associated with the death on the westernmost island. The ship stayed below
    the horizon, the islands out of sight.
    This part of the world never knew real darkness. By day, the sun blazed overhead. True, for a good part of the day, the
    sun was eclipsed by the Face of God (although they were far enough north of the equator that the sun’s path behind
    the Face was a chord much shorter than the Face’s diameter). But even when the sun was eclipsed, and the Face was
    completely unilluminated, the purple sky grew no darker than it did at twilight. And at midnight, when the sun shone
    down on the other side of the world, the Face was full, covering a quarter of the sky, lighting up the waves in shades
    of yellow and orange.
    Because of this, there was no time at which the Dasheter could sneak in to let Toroca off. Toroca, therefore, was going
    to swim to shore. He’d removed his sash; it would have interfered with swimming. But he was not completely naked:
    around his waist he wore a swimmer’s belt, with waterproof pouches made from lizard bladders in which he carried
    supplies.
    Standing near him on the deck of the Dasheter were Babnol and Captain Keenir. There was no way for them to keep in
    touch with Toroca once he left the ship. They’d simply agreed that the Dasheter would sail farther out, then return to
    this spot in twenty days to pick up Toroca; if he did not rendezvous with them, Keenir would then set sail for home,
    rather than risk further disastrous contact.
    Babnol’s tone was full of concern. “Be careful, Toroca.”
    Toroca looked at her wistfully. He’d always wanted their relationship to be so much closer. “I will.”
    “We’ll be back for you, lad,” said Keenir.
    “Thank you.”
    Toroca moved to the side of the ship and began to climb down the rope ladder that led to the shore boats tethered
    below. He could have paddled one of those to the island instead of swimming in, but the boats were pretty big for one
    person to manage; swimming would be easier and faster. When he got to the bottom, he managed a little tip of his
    torso and saw, up on deck, Keenir and Babnol likewise executing