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with photovoltaic panel-
ing. Much plastic and metal tubing ran between the buildings. Bulky structures
running up each end of the atoll looked like warehouses. And far more ac-
tivity was visible than they had encountered at Ad-
ministration. The Commonwealth is present on Cacha-
lot because of this, Cora told herself, and not the other way around.
"South Terminus," Mataroreva announced. "The clearing area for the produce of
Cachalot's ocean."
"What about the processing?" Rachael inquired.
"The basics are performed on the floating towns themselves sizing and grading
corbyianver, for ex-
ample. Concentrating and precrating are mostly done right here. The final
refining takes place," and he waved at the sky, "out there. There are a number
of fairly large orbital factories set in synchronous orbits above us."
Cora nodded. "We saw one on our way down, I
think."
"That's where the final work takes place." He angled toward the beach. "All of
the more valuable products are completed up there: pharmaceuticals, perfumes
and other cosmetics, foodstuffs, minerals. It's cheaper than trying to build a
floating factory down here. Also, most of the raw materials take acceleration
better than the finished products would."
"I wouldn't think an orbital factory would be cheaper," Cora protested.
"Consider that everything you see on Mou'anui was built with imported
materials. Undersea mining is prohibitively expensive, not to mention
refining.
Cachalot's population doesn't call for an extensive manufacturing base. It's
cheaper to import."
He slowed, edged the craft up against one of several empty piers. Switches
were flipped and the engine
CACHALOT 51
died. Another switch locked the craft to the pier. They followed their guide
into a complex of buildings that were as modem as any Cora had seen.
Ferrocrete covered the sand. It sounded harsh and alien against her sandals.
Around them strolled technicians whose accents she traced to many worlds. The
atmosphere was radically different from the casual aura that enveloped the
Administration Center. "Hustle" was the word here, commerce the constant
reaction. This realization killed some of the charm Cora had come to associate
with the new world. She had to remind herself that the human presence on
Cachalot existed because of cold economic figures.
Mataroreva left them to chat with a lanky lady who looked rather like one of
the imported coconut palms.
She held an electronic notepad as she inspected man-
high rows of opaque plastic containers.
"He's inside," Cora heard her say, "near the con-
veyors. He's checking potential extract yield himself.
Seychelles Town brought in a large batch of formicary foam."
"Thanks, Kina." As she turned to resume her count-
ing, he gave her a fond pat on the derriere. Cora took note of this, along
with the ambient temperature and the time of day.
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ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
As they penetrated farther into the complex, Mat-
aroreva pointed out the functions of various structures.
Eventually they entered a long, cavernous edifice that seemed to stretch
onward forever. The clank and hum of machinery grinding out credits for
distant, uncaring proprietors further deepened Cora's mel-
ancholy. The last vestiges of paradise were being drowned around her. An
ancient bit of music by Mos-
solov echoed in her head.
Clearly Cora had arrived on Cachalot with a brace of misconceptions, which she
was rapidly shedding.
No wonder the cetacean settlers wanted nothing to
52 CACHALOT
do with the local humanity. The same self-centered, acquisitive drives that
had goosed mankind across a thousand parsecs in six directions were
functioning round the clock on Cachalot.
She noticed a few thranx working some of the more intricate machinery. No
doubt they were more com-
fortable here, inside, well away from the threatening water.
Occasionally Mataroreva would wave at this worker or another. Some were human,
some not. Of the for-
mer, the majority was female.
They turned a corner and a gust of fresh salt air swept over them. They had
completely crossed the reef and were now in a huge chamber, the far end of
which lay open to the ocean. Gentle waves slapped metallically against the
duralloy seawall. Two large suprafoils bobbed queasily against the broad metal [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]