Brett sank back into the seat beside Scudi. She glanced aft, eyed the scene and jerked her attention back to her course.
"Whether we radio or take the message to Vashon in person, it's all the same," Bushka said. "Gallow learns that his secret is out. But right now, we have the advantage of surprise. He thinks this is his foil."
"What do you mean?" Twisp asked.
"Turn this foil around, Scudi," Bushka ordered. "We're going after Gallow. I should've killed him when I had the chance."
***
Don't call me her father. I was nothing more than an instrument of Vata's conception. "Father" and "daughter" don't apply. Vata was born more than the sum of our parts. I caution the sons and the daughters after us: Remember that Vata is more mother to us than sister to you.
Shadow Panille stood in the gloom of Current Control thinking that at last he had found the woman of his life. With Kareen Ale, he had the faith that only Merman-normal offspring could evidence.
Current Control was aswarm with work, the usual routines preempted by the impending launch and the code yellow grounding of Vashon.
"Too many people working too hard for too long," he muttered to himself. Impulses moved out into the kelp from Current Control, signals of drift sensors flashed in their cobalt-blue numerals. LTA reports were rolling on the number six screen.
Wouldn't get me up in one of those things, he thought. Lighter-Than-Air craft challenged a medium where unstable currents and the unforeseen were standard issue. Air was much more dangerous than water.
Safest down under, he thought. Safety had taken on a new attraction to him. He wanted to live to spend more time with this woman.
Where is Kareen right now? He found himself facing this question constantly since their separation. By now she would be at Launch Base. Panille didn't like to think of the distance separating them ... distance was time, and after that last night he didn't want to spend any time without her.
His head had ached and he had been dizzy with fatigue but still sleep had not come. Every time his eyelids slipped his head filled with visions of Guemes survivors littering the triage floor. Torn flesh, blood, moans and whimpers still ghosted around him in the dim bustle of Current Control.
Kareen, too, had been drained of energy. They had gone to her quarters with little discussion, each aware only of the need to be together, alive after wading through all that death. They had walked from the tube station, holding hands. Panille had held himself under tight control, sure that a white-tipped anger might explode if he once relaxed. Something hot and twisting clenched his guts.
Where plaz lined the corridors, the ripple effect of surface light combined with the cadence of their steps to mesmerize Panille into a dreamy detachment. He felt that he floated above himself, watching their swaying progress. There was tenderness in the arms, the bone-weary arms, and in Kareen's cheek as it brushed his shoulder. Her muscles worked their smooth magic and he no longer suspected that she might try to rule him with her body.
At her quarters, Panille had stared out at a different kind of undersea, a garden lush with ferns waving and butterfly fish grooming the leaves. A thick column of kelp spiraled upward out there, twisting and untwisting with some distant surge.
No death here. No signs of the Guemes disaster.
Just at the edge of visibility lay the Blue Reef with corridors of pale blue vine-tulips that opened and closed like small mouths beyond the plaz. Bright orange flashes of minuscule shrimp darted in and out, feeding on the vine-tulip stamens. Kareen led him to her bedroom.
They did not hesitate. Kareen stood tiptoe and pressed her mouth against his. Her open eyes watched his eyes and he saw himself reflected in her black pupils. Her hands pressed at first against his chest, then slipped around his neck and unfastened his braid. Her fingers felt strong and sure. Surgeon's fingers, he thought. His black hair spread over his shoulders. Panille brought his hands down from her shoulders to her tunic, releasing it clasp by clasp.
They undressed each other slowly, wordlessly. When she stepped out of her underwear, the light caught and danced in the flaming red triangle of her hair. Her nipples pressed like children's noses against his ribs.
We have decided to live, he thought.
The vision of Kareen Ale was a mantra that shut out all doubts about his world. Nothing existed in memory except the two of them and their perfectly complementary bodies.
As they had started slipping into sleep, Kareen startled them both with a sudden cry. She clung to him then like a child.
"Bad dreams," she whispered.
"Bad reality is worse."
"Dreams are real while you're in them," she said. "You know, every time I think of us, the bad goes away. We heal each other."
Her words and the pressure of her against him stirred Panille fully awake. Kareen sighed, rolled astride him in one smooth movement and gripped him deep inside her. Her breasts brushed his chest as they swayed back and forth. His breath was her breath then, and she called out his name as she collapsed, gasping, against him.
Panille held her gently, stroking her back.
"Kareen," he said.
"Mm?"
"I like to say your name."
He remembered this as he stood watch in Current Control and murmured her name under his breath. It helped.
The main entry hatch to Current Control behind Panille swung open with a sharp hiss, indicating quick entry without waiting for the outer lock to seal. Surprised, Panille started to turn and felt hard metal pressed against his back. A downward glance showed him a lasgun against his flesh. Panille recognized the man holding it - Gulf Nakano, Gallow's man. Nakano's bulky form stepped clear of the entry way, pushing Panille ahead of him. Nakano was followed by three other Mermen, all dive-suited, all armed and all thin-lipped serious.
"What is this?" Panille demanded.
"Shhhh," Nakano hissed. He motioned the others around him, then: "All right! Everybody stand up!"
Panille watched the other intruders move swiftly, methodically to equidistant positions near the center of the room. One operator protested and was clubbed to the deck. Panille started to speak but Nakano thrust a huge palm against his mouth, saying, "Stay alive, Panille. It's better."
The three attackers set their lasguns on short-flame and began demolishing Current Control. Plaz melted and popped, control boards sizzled. Small black snakes of vinyl precipitated out of the air. Everything was done with a chilling deliberation. In less than a minute, it was all over and Panille knew they would be at least a year replacing this ... brain.
He was outraged but the destruction daunted him. His assistants leaned against one wall, shock and fear in their eyes.
One woman knelt over the downed operator, dabbing at the side of his face with a corner of her blouse.
"We have Kareen Ale," Nakano said. "I'm told that would interest you."
Panille felt his chest tighten.
"Your cooperation insures her safety," Nakano said. "You are to come with us, on a litter as a casualty we're transporting for the medics."
"Where are we going?"
"That's not your concern. Just tell me whether you will come quietly."
Panille swallowed, then nodded.
"We're welding the inner hatch closed as we leave," Nakano said. "Everyone here will be safe. When the next shift tries to get in, you'll get out."
One of the Mermen stepped forward. "Nakano," he whispered past Panille, "Gallow said we should -"
"Shut up!" Nakano said. "I'm here and he's not. The next shift doesn't come in for at least four hours."
At Nakano's nod two of his men brought an emergency litter from the space between the hatches. Panille lay on the litter and was strapped to it. A blanket was tucked around him.