political subject for a young man to understand," he said.
Brett gritted his teeth at the patronizing attitude.
Lonfinn crossed to the wall behind Keel, touched a depression there and a panel slid away. It revealed a huge port that looked out on an undersea courtyard with transparent ceiling and a watery center where clusters of small fishes flashed and turned among delicate, richly colored plants.
"I must be going," Lonfinn said. "Enjoy yourselves. This" - he indicated the area he had just exposed - "should keep you from feeling too enclosed. I find it restful myself." He turned to Brett, paused and said, "I'll see that the necessary forms and papers are sent for you to sign. No sense wasting time."
With that, Lonfinn departed, leaving by the same hatch they had entered.
Brett looked at Keel. "Have you filled out these papers? What are they?"
"The papers fulfill the Merman need to feel they have everything pinned down. Your name, your age, circumstances of your arrival down under, your work experience, any talents you might have, whether you desire to stay ..." Keel hesitated, cleared his throat. "... your parentage, their occupations and mutations. The severity of your own mutation."
Brett continued to regard the Chief Justice silently.
"And in answer to your other question," Keel continued, "no, they have not required this of me. I'm sure they have a long dossier on me giving all the important details ... and many unimportant tidbits, too."
Brett had fastened onto one thing in Keel's statement. "They may ask me to stay down under?"
"They may require you to work off the cost of your rescue. A lot of Islanders have settled down under, something I mean to look into before going topside. Life here can be very attractive, I know." He ran his fingers through the soft nap of carpet as if for emphasis.
Brett looked at the ceiling, wondering how it would be to live most of his life here away from the suns. Of course, people from down under did go topside lots of times, but still ...
"The best disaster-recovery team is composed mostly of ex-Islanders," Keel said. "So says Kareen Ale."
"I've heard the Mermen always want you to pay your own way," Brett said. "But it shouldn't take long to work off the cost of my ..." He suddenly thought of Scudi. How could he ever repay Scudi? There was no coin for that.
"Mermen have a great many ways of attracting desirable and acceptable Islanders," Keel said. "You appear to be someone they'd be interested in having aboard. However, that should not be your chief concern of the moment. By any chance, do you have medical training?"
"Just first aid and resuscitation through school."
Keel drew in a deep breath and expelled it quickly. "Not enough, I'm afraid. Guemes went down quite a while ago. I'm sure the survivors they're just now bringing in will require more expert attention."
Brett tried to swallow in a tight throat.
Guemes, a whole Island sunk.
"I could carry a stretcher," he said.
Keel smiled sadly. "I'm sure you could. But I'm also sure you wouldn't be able to find the right place to take it. Either one of us would just be in the way. At the moment, we're just what they think of us - two Islander misfits who might do more harm than good. We'll just have to wait."
***
We seldom get rid of an evil merely by understanding its causes.
- C. G. Jung, Shiprecords
"There's a curse in the Histories," Bushka said, "old as humans. It says, 'May you live in interesting times.' I guess we got it."
For some time now, as the coracles cruised through the half-night of Pandora's open sea, Bushka had been telling Twisp what he'd learned from Gallow and from members of Gallow's crew. Twisp could not see Bushka. Only the thin red light of the RDC's arrow glowed in the coracle. All else was darkness - not even stars overhead. A damp cloud cover had swept over them shortly after nightfall.
"There'll be more open land than you can possibly imagine," Bushka continued. "As much land as you see water around you now. So they say."
"It's all bad for the Islands," Twisp said. "And those rockets you say they're launching ..."
"Oh, they're well-prepared," Bushka said. His voice came out of the darkness with a smug sound that Twisp did not like. "Everything's ready for bringing down the hyb tanks. Warehouses full of equipment."
"It's hard for me to imagine land," Twisp admitted. "Where will they lift it out of the sea first?"
"The