Part 39 (2/2)
It was while she was studying a particularly inter- esting anemonelike creature that Dawn swam down to join her. Bubbles rose like clear jelly from the back of her breathing unit.
”You mustn't blame Sam, you know.”
”What? What makes you think I blame Sam for anything?”
”I've seen the way you watch him, react to his presence,” the girl said. ”It's there in the way your body moves, and in your eyes behind your mask.”
Cora turned away from the purple fan she had been examining, looked around. She and Dawn were alone. Whatever expression the girl wore was distorted by the mask. Only her eyes could be seen.
”Sam-Sam's problem is that he genuinely loves everybody,” Dawn explained. ”You mustn't think of me as a rival.”
Cora looked away nervously. That was precisely how she had come to regard her.
”It wasn't only me, you know,” the lithe young
170.
CACHALOT.
woman continued. ”I think Sam must know half the women on Cachalot. They all like him. Why shouldn't we? He's a wonderful, charming man. But a perma- nent mate?” She shook her head, the motion given an unintentional portentousness by the resistance of the
water.
Cora checked to make certain her broadcast unit was operating with only enough power for this inti- mate person-to-person conversation. ”What makes you think I was considering Sam as anything more than
a ...”
”Oh, come on,” Dawn scoffed gently. ”You're as transparent as the water here. Don't you see that I'm trying to help you?”
”Don't do me any favors,” Cora replied coolly.
”Sam-he . . .” The girl looked thoughtful. ”He isn't designed to love just one woman. Some men and women aren't. He truly loves everyone, and feels- though he might not be able to articulate this feeling -that he should spread that great love around.”
”I think you and I define love in different ways.”
”Maybe we do, Ms. Xamantina. Maybe we do.”
”Call me Cora.”
”Thank you.” Dawn smiled gratefully. ”I'd like that. I'm only giving you a piece of advice, believe me. It's absurd for you to think of me as a rival for Sam's permanent affection. You can't compete for something that isn't available.”
”That remains to be seen. You seem awfully cer- tain of yourself and your appraisal of Sam.”
”It isn't just Sam,” the girl said, oddly reflective.
”It's Cachalot. Sam was bom here. So was I. If you had been bom here, you'd understand his att.i.tude bet- ter than you seem to. The compet.i.tion is more than you imagine, and yet isn't really compet.i.tion at all.”
”If you're trying to puzzle me, I don't pay much at- tention to riddles.”
CACHALOT
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