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"
Are
we
?
"
Valentine
Michael
Smith
swam
through
the
murky
water
to
the
deepest
part
of
the
pool
,
under
the
diving
board
,
and
settled
himself
on
the
bottom
.
He
did
not
know
why
his
water
brother
Jubal
had
told
him
to
hide
there
;
indeed
he
did
not
know
that
he
was
hiding
.
His
water
brother
Jubal
had
told
him
to
do
this
and
to
remain
there
until
his
water
brother
Jill
came
for
him
;
that
was
sufficient
.
As
soon
as
he
was
sure
that
he
was
at
the
deepest
part
,
he
curled
himself
into
the
foetal
position
,
let
most
of
the
air
out
of
his
lungs
,
swallowed
his
tongue
,
rolled
his
eyes
up
,
slowed
his
heart
down
to
almost
nothing
,
and
became
effectively
"
dead
"
save
that
he
was
not
actually
discorporate
and
could
start
his
engines
again
at
will
.
He
also
elected
to
stretch
his
time
sense
until
seconds
flowed
past
like
hours
,
as
he
had
much
to
contemplate
and
did
not
know
how
quickly
Jill
would
come
to
get
him
.
He
knew
that
he
had
failed
again
in
an
attempt
to
achieve
the
perfect
understanding
,
the
mutually
merging
rapport
–
the
grokking
–
that
should
exist
between
water
brothers
.
He
knew
that
the
failure
was
his
,
caused
by
his
using
wrongly
the
oddly
variable
human
language
,
because
Jubal
had
become
upset
as
soon
as
he
had
spoken
to
him
.
He
now
knew
that
his
human
brothers
could
suffer
intense
emotion
without
any
permanent
damage
,
nevertheless
Smith
was
wistfully
sorry
that
he
had
been
the
cause
of
such
upset
in
Jubal
.
At
the
time
,
it
had
seemed
to
him
that
he
had
at
last
grokked
perfectly
a
most
difficult
human
word
.
He
should
have
known
better
because
,
early
in
his
learnings
under
his
brother
Mahmoud
,
he
had
discovered
that
long
human
words
(
the
longer
the
better
)
were
easy
,
unmistakable
,
and
rarely
changed
their
meanings
?
but
short
words
were
slippery
,
unpredictable
,
changing
their
meanings
without
any
pattern
.
Or
so
he
seemed
to
grok
.
Short
human
words
were
never
like
a
short
Martian
word
–
such
as
"
grok
"
which
forever
meant
exactly
the
same
thing
.
Short
human
words
were
like
trying
to
lift
water
with
a
knife
.
And
this
had
been
a
very
short
word
.
Smith
still
felt
that
he
had
grokked
rightly
the
human
word
"
God
"
–
the
confusion
had
come
from
his
own
failure
in
selecting
other
human
words
.
The
concept
was
truly
so
simple
,
so
basic
,
so
necessary
that
any
nestling
could
have
explained
it
perfectly
–
in
Martian
.
The
problem
,
then
,
was
to
find
human
words
that
would
let
him
speak
rightly
,
make
sure
that
he
patterned
them
rightly
to
match
in
fullness
how
it
would
be
said
in
his
own
people
’
s
language
.
He
puzzled
briefly
over
the
curious
fact
that
there
should
be
any
difficulty
in
saying
it
,
even
in
English
,
since
it
was
a
thing
everyone
knew
else
they
could
not
grok
alive
.
Possibly
he
should
ask
the
human
Old
Ones
how
to
say
it
,
rather
than
struggle
with
the
shifting
meanings
of
human
words
.
If
so
,
he
must
wait
until
Jubal
arranged
it
,
for
here
he
was
only
an
egg
and
could
not
arrange
it
himself
.
He
felt
brief
regret
that
he
would
not
be
privileged
to
be
present
at
the
coming
discorporation
of
brother
Art
and
brother
Dottie
.
