Free From the Ocean from teh Stars by Arthur C. Clarke

man's presumptions. The sea, which had worked its will with man since the beginning of time, had been humbled at last. Not even the conquest of space had been a greater victory than this.
    And yet—it was a victory that could never be final. The sea would
always be waiting, and every year it would claim its victims. There was a
roll of honor that Franklin had glimpsed briefly during his visit to the
head office. Already it bore many names, and there was room for many
more.
3 Slowly, Franklin was coming to terms with the sea, as must all men
    who have dealings with it. Though he had had little time for nonessential reading, he had dipped into Moby Dick, which had been half-jokingly, half-seriously called the bible of the Bureau of Whales. Much of it had seemed to him tedious, and so far removed from the world in which he was Uving that it had no relevance. Yet occasionally Melville's archaic, sonorous prose touched some chord in his own mind, and gave him a closer understanding of the ocean which he, too, must learn to hate and love.
    Don Burley, however, had no use at all for Moby Dick and frequently made fun of those who were always quoting it.
    "We could show Melville a thing or two!" he had once remarked to Franklin, in a very condescending tone.
    "Of course we could," Franklin had answered. "But would you have the guts to stick a spear into a sperm whale from an open boat?"
    Don did not reply. He was honest enough to admit that he did not know the answer.
    Yet there was one question he was now close to answering. As he watched Franklin learn his new skills, with a swiftness which could un doubtedly make him a first warden in no more than four or five years, he knew with complete certainty what his pupil's last profession had been. If he chose to keep it a secret, that was his own affair. Don felt a little aggrieved by such lack of trust; but sooner or later, he told himself, Franklin would confide in him.
    Yet it was not Don who was the first to learn the truth. By the sheerest of accidents, it was Indra.
    ☆ CHAPTER SIX
    They now met at least once a day in the mess, though Franklin had not yet made the irrevocable, almost unprecedented, step of moving from his table to the one at which the research staff dined. That would be a flamboyant declaration which would set every tongue on the island wagging happily, and in any case it would not be justified by the circumstances. As far as Indra and Franklin were concerned, the much-abused phrase "we're just friends" was still perfectly true.
    Yet it was also true that they had grown very fond of each other, and that almost everyone except Don was aware of it. Several of Indra's colleagues had said to her approvingly, "You're thawing out the ice berg," and the compliment had flattered her. The few people who knew
    Franklin well enough to banter with him had made warning references to Don, pointing out that first wardens had reputations to maintain. Frank lin's reaction had been a somewhat forced grin, concealing feelings which he could not fully analyze himself.
    Loneliness, the need to escape from memories, a safety valve to guard him against the pressure under which he was working—these fac tors were at least as important as the normal feelings of any man for a girl as attractive as Indra. Whether this companionship would develop into anything more serious, he did not know. He was not even sure if he wished it to do so.
    Nor, for her part, was Indra, though her old resolve was weakening. Sometimes she indulged in reveries wherein her career took very much of a second place. One day, of course, she was going to marry, and the man she would choose would be very much like Franklin. But that it might be Franklin was a thought from which she still shied away.
    One of the problems of romance on Heron Island was that there were far too many people in too small a space. Even the fragment that was left of the original forest did not provide enough seclusion. At night, if one wandered