Fluke: Or, I Know Why the Winged Whale Sings

said.
    "Well, with that particular bunch, yes."
    The whole corridor started to move.
    "Here we go, step, step, step, that's good." They were walking across the walls as the ship rolled. When they were standing on the ceiling, the roll stopped. "Nice, Scooter," Nuсez said, obviously communicating through some sort of hidden intercom. Then, to Nate, "He's so good."
    "We were upside down to make the transfer?"
    "Exactly. You're a smart guy. Look, these are cabins. She touched a lighted node on the wall, and a skin portal folded back on itself. Again Nate was put in mind of the blowhole of a toothed whale, but it was so big, nearly four feet across, it was just… unnatural. Lines of light pumped to life past the portal to reveal a small cabin, a bed – apparently made of the same skin as the rest of the interior – but also a table and a chair. Nate couldn't make out what material they might be made of, but it looked like plastic.
    "Bone," Nuсez said, noticing him noticing. "They're as much a part of the ship as the walls. All living tissue. There are shelves and cubbyholes for your stuff in the bulkheads, closed now. Obviously everything has to be stowed for little maneuvers like the one we just performed. The motion isn't as bad as on the humpbacks. You'll find you'll get used to it, and then you can move about just as if you were on land."
    "You're right. I didn't even notice we were moving."
    "That would be because we're not," said Nuсez.
    The sound of whaley-boy snickering wheezed down the corridor toward them.
    "You guys are supposed to be working," Nuсez said to the air. "Prepare to get under way." She turned to Quinn. "Can I buy you a cup of joe? Maybe answer some of your questions?"
    "You're offering?" Quinn felt his heart jump with excitement. Information, without Poynter and Poe's goofing obfuscation? He was thrilled. "That would be fantastic."
    "Don't pee all over yourself, Quinn. It's just coffee."
    * * *
    The corridor opened up into a large bridge. The head of the blue was huge compared to the humpback's. On either side of the entry a whaley boy stood grinning at them as they passed. They were both taller than Quinn, and unlike the Scooter and Skippy of the humpback, their skin was mottled and lighter in color.
    Nate paused and grinned back at them. "Let me guess – Skippy and Scooter?"
    "Actually, Bernard and Emily 7," said Nuсez.
    "You said they all were -"
    "I said all pilots were named Skippy and Scooter." She gestured to the front of the bridge, where two whaley boys sitting at control consoles were turning in their seats and grinning. Maybe, thought Nate, they always appeared to be grinning, much like dolphins. He'd made an amateur mistake, assuming that their facial expressions were the analog of human expressions. People often did that with dolphins, even though the animals had no facial muscles to facilitate expression. Even sad dolphins appeared to be smiling.
    "What are you two grinning at?" asked Nuсez. "Let's get on the way."
    The pilots frowned and turned back to their consoles.
    "Well, crap," Nate said.
    "What?"
    "Nothing, just another theory shot in the ass."
    "Yeah, this operation does that, doesn't it?"
    Nate felt something stirring in his back pocket and spun around to see a thin, fourteen-inch-long pink penis that was protruding from Bernard's genital slit. It waved at him.
    "Holy moly!"
    "Bernard!" Nuсez snapped. "Put that away. That is not procedure."
    Bernard's unit drooped noticeably from the scolding. He looked at it and chirped contritely.
    "Away!" Nuсez barked.
    Bernard's willy snapped back up into his genital slit. "Sorry about that," Nuсez said to Nate. "I've never gotten used to that. It's really disconcerting when you're working with one of them and you ask them to hand you a screwdriver or something and his hands are already full. Coffee?"
    She led him to a small white table around which four bone chairs protruded from the floor. They looked like old-style Greek saddle chairs – no backs, organic curves, and the high gloss of living bone – but more Gaudi than Flintstone. Quinn sat while Nuсez touched a node on the wall that opened a meter-wide portal that had concealed a sink, several canisters, and what looked like a percolator. Nate wondered about the electricity but forced himself to wait before asking.
    While Nuсez prepared the coffee, Quinn looked around. The bridge was easily four times the size of the entire cabin in the humpback. Instead of riding