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and flicking. Low mud banks were emerging all over the surface of the pool; in
only a few places towards the centre was the water More than a foot deep.
Holliday pointed to the breach in the bank fifty yards away, gestured Granger
after him and began to run towards it.
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Five minutes later they had effectively dammed up the breach. Holliday
returned for the jeep and drove it carefully through the winding saddles
between the pools. He lowered the ramp and began to force the sides of the
fish-pool in towards each other. After two or three hours he had narrowed the
diameter from a hundred yards to under sixty, and the depth of the water had
increased to over two feet.
The dog-fish had ceased to jump and swam smoothly just below the surface,
snapping at the countless small plants which had been tumbled into the water
by the jeep's ramp.
Its slim white body seemed white and unmarked, the small fins trim and
powerful.
Granger sat on the bonnet of the jeep, his back against the windshield,
watching Holliday with admiration.
'You obviously have hidden reserves,' he said ungrudgingly.
'I didn't think you had it in you.'
Holliday washed his hands in the water, then stepped over the churned mud
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which formed the boundary of the pool. A few feet behind him the dog-fish
veered and lunged.
'I want to keep it alive,' Holliday said matter-offactly.
'Don't you see, Granger, the fishes stayed behind when the first amphibians
emerged from the seas two hundred million years ago, just as you and I, in
turn, are staying behind now.
In a sense all fish are images of ourselves seen in the sea's mirror.'
He slumped down on the running board. His clothes were soaked and streaked
with salt, and he gasped at the damp air. To the west, just above the long
bulk of the Florida coastline, rising from the ocean floor like an enormous
aircraft carrier, were the first dawn thermal fronts. 'Will it be all right to
leave it until this evening?'
Granger climbed into the driving seat. 'Don't worry.
Come on, you need a rest.' He pointed up at the overhanging rim of the
launching platform. 'That should shade it for a few hours, help to keep the
temperature down.'
As they neared the town Granger slowed to wave to the old people retreating
from their porches, fixing the shutters on the steel cabins.
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'What about your interview with Bullen?' he asked
Holliday soberly. 'He'll be waiting for you.'
'Leave here ? After last night ? It's out of the question.'
Granger shook his head as he parked the car outside the
Neptune. 'Aren't you rather over-estimating the importance of one dog-fish?
There were millions of them once, the vermin of the sea.'
'You're missing the point,' Holliday said, sinking back
' into the seat, trying to wipe the salt out of his eyes. 'That fish means
that there's still something to be done here.
Earth isn't dead and exhausted after all. We can breed new forms of life, a
completely new biological kingdom.'
Eyes fixed on his private vision, Holliday sat holding the steering wheel
while Granger went into the bar to collect a crate of beer. On his return the
migration officer was with him.
Bullen put a foot on the running board, looked into the car. 'Well, how about
it, Holliday ? I'd like to make an early start. If you're not interested I'll
be off. There's a rich new life out there, first step to the stars. Torn
Juranda and the
Merryweather boys are leaving next week. Do you want to be with them?'
'Sorry,' Holliday said curtly. He pulled the crate of beer into the car and
let out the clutch, gunned the jeep away down the empty street in a roar of
dust.
Half an hour later, as he stepped out on to the terrace at
Idle End, cool and refreshed after his shower, he watched the helicopter roar
overhead, its black propeller scudding, then disappear over the kelp flats
towards the hull of the wrecked space platform.
'
'Come on, let's go! What's the matter ?'
'Hold it,' Granger said. 'You're getting over-eager. Don't interfere too much,
you'll kill the damn thing with kindness.
What have you got there?' He pointed to the can
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