Keel felt an emotional pang at this revelation. His pride had been touched.

"Why haven't you made it known that you do this for us?" he asked.

"You think Islander pride would abide such a close watch?" Ale asked. "You forget, Ward, that I live much topside. You already believe we're plotting against you. What would your people make of this set-up?" She gestured at the banks of controls, the viewscreens, the subdued clicking of printers.

"You think Islanders are paranoid," Keel said. He was forced to admit to himself that this room's purpose had hurt his pride. Vashon Security would not like the idea of such Merman surveillance, either. And their fears might be correct. Keel reminded himself that he was only seeing what he was shown.

A large screen over to the right displayed a massive section of Island hull.

"That looks like Vashon," he said. "I recognize the drift-watch spacing."

Ale touched Panille's shoulder and Keel wondered at the proprietary air of her movement. Panille glanced up from the keys.

"An interruption?" she asked.

"Make it short."

"Could you put Justice Keel's fears to rest? He has recognized his Island there." She nodded toward the viewscreen on the right. "Give him its position relative to the nearest barrier wall."

Panille turned to his console and tapped out a code, twisted a dial and read the alphanumerics on a thin dark strip at the top of his board. The smaller screen above the readout shifted from a repeat of the hull view to a surrounding seascape. A square at the lower right of the screen flashed "V-200."

"Visibility two hundred meters," Ale said. "Pretty good."

"Vashon's about four kilometers out from submerged barrier HA-nine, moving parallel the wall," Panille said. "In about an hour we'll begin to take it farther out. The wavewall had it within two-kilometer range. We had to do some shuffling, but nothing to worry about. It was never out of control."

Keel had to suppress a gasp at these figures. He fought down anger at the younger man's presumption and managed to ask, "What do you mean, 'Nothing to worry about'?"

Panille said, "We have had it under control -"

"Young man, diverting a mass like Vashon" - Keel shook his head -"we're lucky to adjust basic positioning when we contact another Island. Getting out of the way of danger in a mere two kilometers is not possible."

The corners of Panille's mouth came up in a tight smile - the kind of know-it-all smile that Keel really hated. He saw it on many adolescents, sophomoric youths thinking that older people were just too slow.

"You Islanders don't have the kelp working for you," Panille said. "We do. That's why we're here and we haven't time for your Islander paranoia."

"Shadow!" Ale's voice carried a cautionary note.

"Sorry." Panille bent to his controls. "But the kelp gives us a control that has kept Vashon out of real danger through this area for the past few years. Other Islands, too."

What an astonishing claim! Keel thought. He noted from the edge of his vision how carefully Ale watched every move Panille made. The young man nodded at something on his readouts.

"Watch this," he said. "Landro!" An older woman across the room glanced back and nodded. Panille called out a series of letters and numbers to her. She tapped them into her console, paused, hit a key, paused. Panille bent to his own board. A flurry of movement erupted from his fingers across the keys.

"Watch Shadow's screen," Ale said.

The screen showed a long stretch of waving kelp, thick and deep. The V-200 still blinked in the corner square. From it, Keel estimated he was looking at kelp more than a hundred meters tall. As he watched, a side channel opened through the kelp, the thick strands bending aside and locking onto their neighbors. The channel appeared to be at least thirty meters wide.

"Kelp controls the currents by opening appropriate channels," Ale said. "You're seeing one of the kelp's most primitive feeding behaviors. It captures nutrient-rich colder currents this way."

Keel spoke in a hushed whisper. "How do you make it respond?"

"Low-frequency signals," she said. "We haven't perfected it yet, but we're close. This is rather crude if we believe the historical records. We expect the kelp to add a visual display to its vocabulary at the next stage of development."

"Are you trying to tell me you're talking to it?"

"In a crude way. The way a mother talks to an infant, that kind of thing. We can't call it sentient yet, it doesn't make independent decisions."

Keel began to understand Panille's know-it-all look. How many generations had Islanders been on the sea without even coming close to such a development? What else did Islanders lack that Mermen had perfected?

"Because it's crude we allow plenty of margin for error," Ale said.

"Four kilometers ... that's safe?" Keel asked.

"Two kilometers," Panille said. "That's an acceptable distance now."

"The kelp responds to a series of signal clusters," Ale said.

Why this sudden candor with Vashon's highest Islander official? Keel wondered.

"As you can see," Ale said, "we're training the kelp as we use it." She took his arm and stared at the widening channel through the kelp.

Keel saw Panille glance at Ale's intimate grip and caught a brief hardening of the young man's mouth.

Jealous? Keel wondered. The thought flickered like a candle in a breezy room. Perhaps a way to put Panille off-balance. Keel patted Ale's hand.

"You see why I brought you in here?" Ale asked.

Keel tried to clear his throat, finding it painfully restricted. Islanders would have to learn about this development, of course. He began to see Ale's problem - the Merman problem. They had made a mistake in not sharing this development earlier. Or had they?

"We have other things to see," Ale said. "I think the gymnasium next because it's closest. That's where we're training our astronauts."

Keel had been turning slightly as she spoke, scanning the curve of screens across the room. His mind was only partly focused on Ale's words and he heard them almost as an afterthought. He lurched and stumbled into her, only her strong grip on his arm kept him steady.

"I know you're going after the hyb tanks," he said.

"Ship would not have left them in orbit if it was not intended for us to have them, Ward."

So that's why you're building your barriers and recovering solid ground above the sea."

"We can launch rockets from down here but that's not the best way," she said. "We need a solid base above the sea."

"What will you do with the contents of the tanks?"

"If the records are correct, and we've no reason to doubt them, then the riches of life in those tanks will put us back on a human path - a human way."

"What's a human way?" he asked.

"Why, it's ... Ward, the life forms in those tanks can ..."

"I've studied the records. What do you expect to gain on Pandora from, say, a rhesus monkey? Or a python? How will a mongoose benefit us?"

"Ward ... there are cows, pigs, chickens ..."

"And whales, how can they help us? Can they live compatibly with the kelp? You've pointed out the importance of the kelp ..."

"We won't know until we try it, will we?"

"As Chief Justice on the Committee on Vital Forms, and that is who you're addressing now, Kareen Ale, I must remind you that I have considered such questions before."

"Ship and our ancestors brought -"

"Why this sudden religious streak, Kareen? Ship and our ancestors brought chaos to Pandora. They did not consider the consequences of their actions. Look at me, Kareen! I am one of those consequences. Clones ... mutants ... I ask you, was it not Ship's purpose to teach us a hard lesson?"

"What lesson?"

"That there are some changes that can destroy us. You speak so glibly of a human way of life! Have you defined what it is to be human?"