accident survivors," one of them hollered.
Ceiling speakers came alive then: "Situation Orange! Situation Orange! All emergency personnel to your stations. This is not a drill. This is not a drill. Keep docking areas clear. Keep passageways clear. Essential duty stations only for regular personnel. Essential duty stations only. All others report to alternate stations. Medical emergencies only in the passages or trauma shed vicinity. Situation Orange. This is not a drill ..."
More Mermen dashed past them. One shouted back, "Clear the passageways!"
"What is it?" Scudi called after him.
"That Island that sank off Mistral Barrier. They're bringing in the survivors."
Brett yelled, "Was it Vashon?"
They ran on without answering.
Scudi pulled at his arm. "Hurry." She directed him down a side passage and pulled up a large hatchway, which slid aside at her touch. "I'll have to leave you here and report to my station."
Brett followed her through a double-hatchway into a cafe. Booths with low-set tables lined the walls. More low tables were scattered throughout the room. Plasteel pillars in rows defined aisleways. Each pillar was set up as a serving-station. A booth in the corner held two people bent toward each other across the table. Scudi hurried Brett toward this booth. As they approached the figure on the right became clear. Brett missed a step. Every Islander knew that face - that craggy head with its elongated neck and its brace work: Ward Keel!
Scudi stopped at the booth, her hand gripping Brett's. Her attention was on Keel's companion. Brett recognized the red-haired woman. He'd glimpsed her on Vashon. Until he'd met Scudi, he'd considered Kareen Ale the most beautiful woman alive. Scudi's low-voiced introduction was not necessary.
"There were supposed to be registration and processing personnel here," Ale said, "but they've gone to their stations."
Brett swallowed hard and looked at Keel. "Mr. Justice, they said a whole Island's been sunk."
"It was Guemes," Keel said, his voice cold.
Ale looked at Keel. "Ward, I suggest that you and young Norton go to my quarters. Don't stay long in the passages and stay inside until you hear from me."
"I must go, Brett," Scudi said. "I'll come for you when this is over."
Ale touched Scudi's arm and they hurried away. Slowly, painfully, Keel eased himself from the booth. He stood, letting his legs adjust to the new position.
Brett listened to the people rushing through the passage outside the hatchway.
Laboriously, Keel began shuffling toward the exit hatch. "Come along, Brett."
As they stepped into the aisle leading toward the exit, a hatch behind them hissed open, gushing the rich smells of garlic fried in olive oil and spices he couldn't name. A man's voice called out: "You two! No one in the passages!"
Brett whirled. A heavy set man with dark gray hair stood in the open hatchway to the kitchen. His rather flat features were set in a scowl, which changed into a forced smile as he looked past Brett and recognized Keel.
"Sorry, Mr. Justice," the man said. "Didn't recognize you at first. But you still shouldn't be in the passages."
"We were instructed to vacate this place and meet the ambassador at her quarters," Keel said.
The man stepped aside and gestured toward the kitchen. "Through here. You can occupy Ryan Wang's old quarters. Kareen Ale will be notified."
Keel touched Brett's shoulder. "This is closer," he said. The man led them into a large, low-ceilinged room flooded with soft light. Brett could not find the light source; it seemed to wash the room equally in gentle tones. Thick, pale blue carpeting caressed Brett's bare feet. The only furnishings appeared to be plump cushions in browns, burnt red and dark blue, but Brett, knowing how Mermen swung things out of walls, suspected other furniture might be concealed behind the hangings.
"You will be comfortable here," the man said.
"Who do I have the pleasure of thanking for this hospitality?" Keel asked.
"I am Finn Lonfinn," the man said. "I was one of Wang's servants and now have the task of caring for his quarters. And your young friend is ... ?"
"Brett Norton," Brett answered. "I was on my way to registration and processing when the alarm sounded."
Brett studied the room. He had never seen a place quite like it. In some respects, it was vaguely Islander - soft cushions, all the metal covered by woven hangings, many recognizably of topside manufacture. But the deck did not move. Only the faint sigh of air pulsing through vents.
"Do you have friends on Guemes?" Lonfinn asked.
"The C/P is from Guemes," Keel reminded him.
Lonfinn's eyebrows lifted and