Free Foreigner by Robert J. Sawyer Page A

ceremonial bows.
    The waves were high enough that Toroca had been splashed up the calf by the time his foot reached the bottom rung.
    Without further ado, he let go and slipped beneath the waves.
    They were far enough north that the water was cooler than what Toroca was used to, but it wasn’t cold enough to
    pose a hazard. He put his arms flat at his sides, stretched his legs out behind, and undulated his tail. His body sliced
    through the water. He passed a school of silvery fish at one point and later saw a couple of limpid floaters bobbing on
    the surface. The Face of God waned visibly during the course of the long swim in, and the sun moved closer and closer
    to its edge.
    In the distance, Toroca could see a few of the Others’ own sailing ships, but they tended to stay close to shore. That
    wasn’t surprising; the Others presumably long ago determined that there was nothing except empty water for
    thousands of kilopaces around.
    Even from far away, Toroca was surprised by how different the Others’ ships looked. Quintaglio vessels had diamond
    shaped hulls, square sails, and an even number of masts (the Dasheter had four). The ship passing Toroca far to the
    left had a rounded hull, three masts, and overlapping triangular sails.
    Toroca was now a hundred paces from shore. He was approaching what seemed to be a small coastal city made of
    wooden buildings. Right off, that seemed alien. Quintaglios normally built from adobe or stone; surely wooden
    buildings were at risk of fire from lamp flames. And these buildings were such odd shapes! The Others seemed to
    avoid right angles; it was hard to tell from this vantage point, but most of the buildings appeared to have eight sides.
    Toroca stopped swimming for a moment. There were fifty or sixty people walking along a broad wooden pier built along
    the contours of the water’s edge. So many! Why, it was as if they had no territoriality at all. And then Toroca saw
    something that amazed him: two individuals walking side by side down the pier. He could see them clearly, and there
    could be no doubt about what they were doing.
    Holding hands.
    Incredible, thought Toroca. Absolutely incredible.
    He began to swim again, his tail propelling him over the remaining distance.
    Finally, somebody noticed him. He saw a hand pointing in his direction, and a shout went up. Others turned to look
    out at the waters. More arms pointed at him. One person turned and ran toward the octagonal buildings. Two large
    Others grabbed a juvenile and, against the juvenile’s apparent wishes, dragged the child away from the edge of the
    pier. One Other was shouting gibberish. Two Others shouted back; more gibberish. Toroca was about ten paces from
    the pier now.
    Someone pointed a blackened metal tube at Toroca. A flash erupted from its open end and a sound came from it like
    the bellow of a shovelmouth. The water exploded next to Toroca as something crashed into the waves. Someone ran
    to the Other holding the tube and motioned angrily for him to put it down.
    There was a rope ladder dangling from the side of the pier into the water. Toroca grabbed it. The rope itself was of a
    material Toroca had never seen — perhaps some kind of waterweed fiber — and the knots along its length were tied in a
    complex style he’d likewise never encountered. Still, it was clearly meant for accessing the pier from the water, or vice
    versa, and so he pulled himself up, rung after rung, his body feeling cool as the air ran over his wet form. At last he
    was up on the pier; it, too, was bizarre, made of long planks that went lengthwise instead of crosswise, the way a
    Quintaglio would have built it.
    Toroca stood there, dripping, hands on hips, looking at the Others, and they stood looking at him. Some were pointing
    at his swimmer’s belt, and Toroca was reminded of how he had made much of the fact that the first Other they’d
    encountered had been wearing jewelry. They must know he was intelligent. These