Dirk watched in awe as the vessel continued to grow larger, far beyond the point at which he thought it should stop getting bigger. Dirk had seldom known a spaceship this large dirtside (or was that waterside on Olympia ?), so he was impressed by the scale of the city-ship and the way the nomads seemed to exist in concert with the planet, rather than simply trying to impose their will on it like the land based cities did.
Several small craft came skimming over the waves towards the life-raft, some sort of hydrofoil by the look of it. Similar to the one they had rescued Selale from, at least that was Dirk’s impression given the rather unorthodox and short-lived view he had been granted of her vessel. Before long a line had been secured and the life-raft pulled alongside the nomad vessel. Selale hailed their rescuers and talking quickly in her native language, explained what had befallen them. Dirk looked on with alarm as the voices rose in volume, the gestures became more expansive, and the tone sounded angry. However, soon Selale turned and addressed them in Anglic, explaining that the nomad craft would tow them to the city-ship and safety. With a bit more shouting and scrambling about the life-raft was moved and secured behind the nomad vessel so that it could be safely towed.
“Must be one of those languages that sound harsh and argumentative even during normal conversation to non-speakers.” thought Dirk.
Soon the twin hulls of the city-ship towered up either side of the smaller vessels, and the life-raft was manoeuvred to one of them where a pontoon had been lowered into the water, and a large door in the hull stood open. Several nomads stood by, helping to tie up the small craft and help the occupants of the life-raft out of the life-raft and onto the city-ship.