Once again, Masurathoo was faced with the decision to follow or stay behind. And as before, he had no choice. He tried to steel himself. What was he so afraid of? So long as he kept the human in front of him and the Sakuntala behind, he was screened from any attack. Unless, he reminded himself, it came at him from either side. Or from below.
Stop this, he told himself. You are as competent as either of these two vulgarians and more intelligent than either. Use that intelligence, and a little common sense, and you will soon find yourself safely on the other side. Besides, the human was right. The Deyzara were good swimmers. And thanks to the design of his respiratory apparatus, he could submerge completely and still breathe, while a human or Sakuntala would soon drown. He was the one with the natural advantages.
Starting downward, he began to hyperventilate. Not out of nervousness but to charge his lungs with extra oxygen. In the water, his boneless legs and arms would allow him to move more agilely than his muscular but stiff-jointed companions. In his mind’s eye he saw himself swimming circles around both. But only in his mind’s eye. Once in the water, he intended to travel only one way, and that was in a straight line toward the opposite shore.
No, not shore, he corrected himself. The shore in the Viisiiviisii was far beneath his feet, where the trees of the forest took root in the submerged soil of sodden Fluva. No one would see any “shore” hereabouts for another half year yet.