Free Leviathans of Jupiter by Ben Bova Page B

out of her.”
    â€œThe little one?”
    â€œYeah. Baby.” He pointed as the trio of dolphins glided past them, chattering again. “She’s got the transceiver in her skull.” Brightening, he said, “Well, it wasn’t bad for a first try.”
    The elevator doors slid open and Yeager stepped into the cab.
    â€œHey Max!” Corvus called. “Don’t you want to try it?”
    â€œHell no!” Yeager snapped as the doors slid shut.
    â€œHe’s scared,” Corvus said, as if it surprised him.
    Dorn shook his head. “Merely cautious. He’s an engineer, after all. He doesn’t plunge into a new experience without checking all the possibilities first.”
    Corvus nodded, but he still looked disappointed.
    â€œHow about you, then?” he asked Dorn.

METAMORPHOSIS
    â€œMe?” Dorn seemed shaken by Andy’s question.
    Corvus nodded hard enough to make a lock of his wetly matted strawberry hair flop over his forehead. “See if you can make contact with them,” he said.
    Dorn looked up at the dolphins swimming past, then back at Corvus again. “I don’t know…”
    Corvus stepped toward him, holding the optronic circlet in his extended hand. The slim metal band, studded with many-hued ovals, gleamed like a jeweled tiara. “It ought to work fine: I mean, the metal of your head will make a terrific contact.”
    Dorn looked anything but willing, Deirdre thought. He accepted the ring with his human hand and slowly fitted it over the metal cap of his head. On him it looks like a crown of thorns, Deirdre thought.
    Smiling with satisfaction, Corvus pecked at the computer’s miniature keyboard.
    â€œOkay,” he said to Dorn. “Just relax. I’ll set up the connection for you.”
    Dorn stood as rigid as a tightly pulled bowstring while Corvus tapped away on the laptop’s keyboard.
    â€œMight help if you close your eyes,” Andy suggested.
    Deirdre saw the cyborg’s human eye close. The prosthetic eye seemed to go dim.
    For several heartbeats nothing happened. The dolphins were chattering again, back and forth. Deirdre wished she could understand what they were saying to each other.
    â€œNot everybody can make contact,” Andy whispered to her, as if afraid he might break Dorn’s concentration. “It’s a sort of—”
    â€œNO!” Dorn roared. He spasmed, his back arching, his arms flailing wildly, hands clenched into fists. His human eye snapped open, the prosthetic one glowered hot red.
    â€œNo!” he bellowed again. Corvus tried to duck beneath his wildly swinging arms and went sprawling onto the deck. Dorn spun around and took a tottering step toward Deirdre, his half-human face a mask of rage. She backed away, terrified.
    Scrambling to his hands and knees, Andy banged a fist on the keyboard of the computer.
    Dorn stopped in mid-frenzy. For a long moment he stood frozen, the human side of his face twisted in what might have been blazing anger, or agony. His chest heaved. Sweat rolled down his cheek.
    Deirdre’s back was pressed against the elevator doors. She, too, was panting, frightened. He could smash the wall of the aquarium with that metal arm of his, she thought; glassteel or not, he could crack the tank’s wall and drown us all.
    But Dorn seemed to regain control of himself. Slowly. He stood there unmoving while Andy clambered awkwardly to his feet and Deirdre stared fearfully at the cyborg. Slowly Dorn’s arms slumped down to his sides. Slowly the terrible rictus that had twisted his face so horribly relaxed.
    At last he said, almost sheepishly, “I’m sorry. I couldn’t do it.”
    â€œAre you all right?” Deirdre asked, breathless.
    Dorn nodded once, somberly. “I am now.” He lifted the optronic band off his head and handed it to Corvus.
    â€œWhat happened?” Andy asked, taking the rig from the cyborg’s prosthetic