Immediately, Nakano grasped the man by a shoulder and lifted him like a sack of fishmeal, hurling him aside.
"These Islanders you sneer at are as dear to Avata as any of us!" Nakano bellowed. "Any among you who forgets this will answer to me!"
The abused guard stood with his back to a bulkhead, his face contorted with fear.
Indicating Twisp with one thick finger, Nakano said: "Hold him but let him up." Nakano went to the table and lifted Keel's body gently in his arms. He turned and strode past the guards, pausing at the hatchway. "When I have gone, take the fisherman to our leader. GeLaar Gallow is topside and has things to say." Nakano looked thoughtfully at Twisp. "He needs your help to get the hyb tanks - they're on their way down."
***
Hybernation is to hibernation as death is to sleep. Closer to death than it is to life, hybernation can be lifted only by the grace of Ship.
While Brett held Bushka down, Ale tied off the stump of Bushka's left arm with a length of dive harness. Bushka lay just inside the main hatch, the sea surface visible through the plaz port behind him. Big Sun, just entering its afternoon quadrant, painted oily coils across the kelp fronds out there, now bright and now dulled as clouds scudded overhead.
A moan escaped Bushka.
The foil rolled gently in a low sea. Ale braced herself against a bulkhead while she worked.
"There," she said as she tied off the dive harness. Blood smeared the deck around them and their dive suits were red with it.
Ale turned and shouted up the passage behind Brett. "Shadow! Do you have that cot ready?"
"I'm bringing it!"
Brett took a deep breath and looked out the plaz at the quiescent kelp - so harmless-looking, so tranquil. The horizon was an absurd pinkish gray where Little Sun would soon lift into view, joining its giant companion.
It had been a hellish half hour.
Bushka, meandering aimlessly around the pilot cabin, had lulled them into a sense of security by his casual movements. Abruptly, he had dashed down the passageway and hit the manual override on the main hatch. Water had come blasting in at the high pressure of their depth - almost thirty-five meters down. Bushka had been prepared. Standing to one side of the blasting water, he had grabbed an emergency tank-breather outfit stored beside the hatch, slipping swiftly into the harness.
Brett and Panille, running after him, had been spilled and tumbled in the wash of water boiling down the passage. Only Scudi's alertness in sealing off a section between them and the open hatch had saved the foil and its occupants.
Bushka had kicked easily out into the kelp-jungle where the foil lay on bottom.
Scudi, faced with tons of water in the foil, had blown tanks and started the pumps, shouting for Kareen to help Brett and Shadow. The foil had lifted slowly, floating upward through the massed kelp.
Brett and Panille, splashing their way back into the cabin, had accepted a hand from Kareen. Scudi, seated at the controls, spared a glance for Brett to reassure herself that he was safe, then returned her attention to the watery world visible through the plaz.
"It's tearing him apart!" Scudi gasped.
The others sloshed to a position behind Scudi and looked outside. The foil slithered upward against giant kelp fronds, giving those inside the pilot cabin a dimly lighted view of Bushka close beside them. One large kelp tentacle, wrapped around his body, held Bushka fast while another tentacle gripped his left arm. A cloud of dark liquid flooded the water around Bushka's arm.
Kareen gasped.
Brett understood then - the cloud: blood! The arm had been torn from Bushka's body.
As though it wanted to spit him out, the kelp tentacles whipped away from Bushka and shunted him swiftly upward.
Scudi tipped the foil's nose up and drove for the surface. They found Bushka there, half-conscious and bleeding dangerously. A hunt of dashers, coming to the smell of blood, was whipped back by kelp fronds.
Later, after Kareen had treated Bushka, Brett and Panille lashed him to the cot and carried him forward. Ale walked alongside. "He's lost a lot of blood," she said. "The brachial artery was wide open."
Scudi remained at the helm, sparing only a brief glance at Bushka's pale face as the cot was lowered to the deck behind her. She held the foil in a tight circle within a kelp-free area. Choppy waves drummed a dulled tunk-tunk against the hull. The last of the unwanted water had gone overboard but the decks were still damp with it.
Scudi, the image of Bushka's injuries fresh in her mind, thought: Ship save us! The kelp has turned vicious!
Panille stood above Bushka. A wash of agony grayed Bushka's face but he appeared conscious. Seeing this, Panille demanded, "What were you trying to do?"
"Shhhh," Ale cautioned.
"'S'all right," Bushka managed. "Was gonna kill Gallow."
Panille could not suppress his outrage. "You almost killed us all!"
Kareen pulled Panille away.
Brett slid into the seat beside Scudi and looked out at the dark pile of the outpost with its foam-laced base. Little Sun had risen and the water was bright with the double light.
"Kelp," Bushka said.
"Hush," Ale said. "Save your strength."
"Gotta talk. Kelp has all the Guemes dead ... in it. All there. Said I tore off arm of humanity ... punished me in kind. Damn! Damn!" He tried to look at the place where his arm had been but the lashings on the cot restrained him.
Scudi stared wide-eyed at Brett. Was it possible the kelp took on the personality of all the dead it had absorbed? Would all the old scores be settled? Given consciousness finally and words in which to express itself, the kelp spoke in violent action. She shuddered as she looked out at the green fronds surrounding the foil.
"There are dashers all over the place," Scudi said.
"Where ... where's my arm?" Bushka moaned.
His eyes were closed and his large head looked even larger against the pale fabric of the cot.
"Packed in ice in the cooler," Ale said. "We'll interfere as little as possible with the wound tissue. Better chance for reattachment."
"Kelp knew I was just a fool that Gallow ... took advantage of," Bushka groaned. He twisted his head from side to side. "Why'd it hurt me?"
A heavy gust of wind popped the foil hard and thrust it sideways against the kelp. A loud thump sounded amidships and the foil heeled, righting itself with a rasping hiss.
"What is it? What's that?" Ale demanded.
Brett pointed to the sky above the outpost. "I think we've just had our attention called to something. Look! Have you ever seen that many LTAs?"
"LTAs hell!" Panille said. "Ship's guts! Those are hylighters! Thousands of them."
Brett stared open-mouthed. Like all Pandoran children, he had watched holos of the kelp's spore carriers, a phenomenon unseen on Pandora for generations. Panille was right! Hylighters!
"They're so beautiful," Scudi murmured.
Brett had to agree. The hylighters, giant organic hydrogen bags, danced with rainbow colors in the doubled sunlight. They drifted high across the outpost, moving southwest on a steady wind.
"It's out of our hands now," Panille said. "The kelp will do its own propagating."
"They're coming down," Brett said. "Look. Some of them are trailing tentacles in the water.
The flight of hylighters, well past the outpost now, moved in a gentle slope of wind toward the sea.
"It's almost as though they were being directed," Scudi said. "See how they move together."
Once more, something hard banged against the foil's hull. A channel opened beside them, spreading outward toward the place where the hylighters were coming down close above the water. Slowly at first, a current moved the foil into the new channel.
"Better go along with it," Panille said.