Bushka scowled, thinking of the crowded conditions this number represented, comparing it with the spaciousness of Merman habitats. Vashon squeezed more than two thousand people into every square klick ... a space more correctly measured in cubic terms. Cubbies were stacked on cubbies high above the water and deep beneath it. And some of the smaller Islands were even more condensed, a crowding that had to be experienced to be believed. Space opened on them only when they began to run out of energy - dead space. Uninhabitable. Like people, organics rotted when they died. A dead Island was just a gigantic floating carcass. And this had happened many times.

"I could not tolerate such crowding," Gallow said. "I could only leave."

"It isn't all bad!" Bushka blurted. "We may live close but we help each other."

"I should certainly hope so!" Gallow snorted. He turned until he was facing Bushka. "What is your personal background, Bushka?"

Bushka stared at him, momentarily affronted. This was not an Islander question. Islanders knew the backgrounds of their friends and acquaintances, but the rules of privacy seldom permitted probing.

"Your working background," Gallow persisted.

Ale put a hand on Gallow's arm. "To an Islander, such questions are usually impolite," she said.

"It's all right," Bushka said. "When I got old enough, Merman Gallow, I was a wavewatcher."

"A sort of lookout to warn of wavewalls," Ale explained.

"I know the term," Gallow said. "And after that?"

"Well... . I had good eyes and a good sense of distance, so I did my time as a driftwatch and later in the subs ... then, as I showed navigational ability, they trained me as a timekeeper."

"Timekeeper, yes," Gallow said. "You're the ones who dead-reckon an Island's position. Not very accurate, I'm told."

"Accurate enough," Bushka said.

Gallow chuckled. "Is it true, Islander Bushka, that you people think we Mermen stole the kelp's soul?"

"GeLaar!" Ale snapped.

"No, let him answer," Gallow said. "I've been hearing recently about the fundamentalist beliefs of Islands such as Guemes."

"You're impossible, GeLaar!" Ale said.

"I have an insatiable curiosity," Gallow said. "What about it, Bushka?"

Bushka knew he had to answer but his voice was dismayingly loud when he responded. "Many Islanders believe Ship will return to forgive us."

"And when will that be?" Gallow asked.

"When we regain the Collective Consciousness!"

"Ahhhh, the old Transition Stories," Gallow sneered. "But do you believe this?"

"My hobby is history," Bushka said. "I believe something important happened to human consciousness during the Clone Wars."

"Hobby?" Gallow asked.

"Historian is not a fully accredited Islander job," Ale explained. "Superfluous."

"I see. Do go on, Bushka."

Bushka clenched his fists and fought down his anger. Gallow was more than self-important ... he was truly important ... vital to Bushka's hopes.

"I don't believe we stole the kelp's soul," Bushka said.

"Good for you!" Gallow really smiled this time.

"But I do believe," Bushka added, "that our ancestors, possibly with kelp assistance, glimpsed a different kind of consciousness ... a momentary linkage between all of the minds alive at that time."

Gallow passed a hand across his mouth, an oddly furtive gesture. "The accounts appear to agree," he said. "But can they be trusted?"

"There's no doubt we have kelp genes in the human gene pool," Bushka said. He glanced across the control room at Panille, who was watching him intently.

"And who knows what may happen if we revive the kelp to consciousness, eh?" Gallow asked.

"Something like that," Bushka agreed.

"Why do you think Ship abandoned us here?"

"GeLaar, please!" Ale interrupted.

"Let him answer," Gallow said. "This Islander has an active mind. He may be someone we need."

Bushka tried to swallow in a suddenly dry throat. Was this all a test? Was Gallow actually screening him for entry into Merman society?

"I was hoping ..." Again, Bushka tried to swallow. "I mean, as long as I'm down here anyway ... I was hoping I might gain access to the material Mermen recovered from the old Redoubt. Perhaps the answer to your question ..." He broke off.

An abrupt silence settled over the room.

Ale and Gallow exchanged an oddly veiled look.

"How interesting," Gallow said.

"I'm told," Bushka said, "that when you recovered the Redoubt's data base ... I mean ..." He coughed.

"Our historians work full-time," Gallow said. "After the Disaster, everything, including the material from the Redoubt, was subjected to exhaustive analysis."

"I would still like to see the material," Bushka said. He cursed himself silently. His voice sounded so plaintive.

"Tell me, Bushka," Gallow said, "what would be your response if this material revealed that Ship was an artifact made by human beings and not God at all?"

Bushka pursed his lips. "The Artifact Heresy? Hasn't that been ..."

"You haven't answered my question," Gallow said.

"I would have to see the material and judge for myself," Bushka said. He held himself quite still. No Islander had ever been granted access to Redoubt data. But what Gallow hinted ... explosive!

"I should be most interested to hear what an Islander historian has to say about the Redoubt accounts," Gallow said. He glanced at Ale. "Do you see any reason why we shouldn't grant his request, Kareen?"

She shrugged and turned away, an expression on her face that Bushka could not interpret. Disgust?

Gallow directed that measuring smile toward Bushka. "I quite understand that the Redoubt has mystical implications for Islanders. I hesitate to feed superstitions."

Mystical? Bushka thought. Land that once had protruded from the sea. A place built on a continent, a mass of exposed land that did not drift, the last place inundated in the Disaster. Mystical? Was Gallow merely toying with him?

"I'm a qualified historian," Bushka said.

"But you said hobby ..." Gallow shook his head.

"Was everything recovered intact from the Redoubt?" Bushka ventured.

"It was sealed off," Ale said, turning once more to face Bushka. "Our ancestors put an air-bell on it before cutting through the plasteel."

"Everything was found just as it was left when they abandoned the place," Gallow said.

"Then it's true," Bushka breathed.

"But would you reinforce Islander superstitions?" Gallow insisted.

Bushka drew himself up stiffly. "I am a scientist. I would reinforce nothing but the truth."

"Why this sudden interest in the Redoubt?" Ale asked.

"Sudden?" Bushka stared at her in amazement. "We've always wanted to share in the Redoubt's data base. The people who left it there were our ancestors, too."

"In a manner of speaking," Gallow said.

Bushka felt the hot flush of blood in his cheeks. Most Mermen believed that only Clones and mutants had populated the drifting Islands. Did Gallow really accept that nonsense?

"Perhaps I should've said why the renewed interest?" Ale corrected herself.

"We've heard stories, you see, about the Guemes Movement," Gallow said.

Bushka nodded. WorShip was, indeed, on the increase among Islanders.

"There have been reports of unidentified things seen in the sky," Bushka said. "Some believe that Ship already has returned and is concealed from us in space."

"Do you believe this?" Gallow asked.

"It's possible," Bushka admitted. "All I really know for certain is that the C/P is kept busy examining people who claim to have seen visions."

Gallow chuckled. "Oh, my!"

Bushka once more felt frustration. They were toying with him! This was all a cruel Merman game! "What is so amusing?" he demanded.

"GeLaar, stop this!" Ale said.