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There is a record album consisting of the songs of the humpback whale recorded on the spotunderwater without any Disneyesque touches to mar it anywhere. It is a moot question whetherthese songs are cetacean works of art or partly conversations and only partly works ofart—but I think it must be impossible to listen to them without experiencing some kind ofthrill. People with receptive ears—those who are willing to be communicated with and who knowcommunication when they hear it—surely experience the aesthetic thrill while listening. Katherine MacLean is nobodys aesthete. She invented logic in the cradle and has beeninstructing her teachers ever since except that now she is a teacher at a university and iswisely letting her students instruct her. Katherine MacLean SMALL WAR Humming smoothly a giant ship designed to kill dismember cook and can whales moved toward asociety of whales: bulls and their harems and playfully sporting pups. An Audubon Society submarine followed the giant ship swerving nervously as the people insidegrew more excited. They mustnt do it I cant let them do it Tears streaked Mrs. Appletons cheeks. She wasfat and rich and she had put up half her personal fortune for the submarine study of thesocial life of whales. Her crew consisted of a mechanic a field naturalist a specialist indolphin language and a xenobiologist and universal linguist. They were surprised by her tearsbut they all shared the same anger and dismay as they saw the commercial ship prepare todestroy the herd they had been studying. Fury struggled with caution. Maybe we can stop them. Lets ram them. Maybe the submarine could . . . could . . . Themechanic made a gesture demanding attention. We can ram a hole . . . Mrs. Appleton brightenedand wiped her eyes restraining sniffles. If we crash into them will it make a hole It will go through four feet of pack ice to get to the air maam. Its built for ramming. Thefront end is pointed. We could make a hole
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