Twisp remained silent. Out of the corner of one eye he caught a glimpse of Brett's head surfacing under the other side of the foil's bow. Brett's hand came up gripping the harpoon from the supply coracle.

What's he doing with that thing? Twisp wondered. And he's in too close for me to use the stunshield if the chance comes.

"Aye," Twisp said. "No catch yet. Just got set up." Brett and Scudi disappeared from his sight around the other side of the foil.

"Have you seen anyone else on the water?" the Merman asked.

"Not since the wavewall."

The Merman looked at Twisp's grizzled, weather-beaten face and said, "You've been out ever since the wavewall?" There was awe in his voice.

"Yeah."

He dropped the awe. "And no catch?" he snapped. "You're not much of a fisherman. Not much of a liar, either. You sit still, I'm coming aboard." He signaled his intentions to someone out of view in the foil, then flipped a stubby ladder over the side.

The Merman's movements were deft and controlled. He used no more than the minimal energy required for each action. Twisp noted this and felt a deep sense of caution.

This man knows his body, Twisp thought. And it's a weapon. It would be difficult to take this man by surprise. But Twisp knew his own strengths. He had leverage and a net-puller's power. He also had a lasgun under his towel.

The Merman began lowering himself into the coracle. One foot probed backward for the thwart and, as the Merman put his weight onto that foot, Twisp moved backward as though compensating for the weight shift. The Merman smiled and released both hands from the ladder. He turned to make the last step down into the coracle. Twisp reached his long left arm out to steady the man and, as he moved, shifted his weight. Twisp allowed the man to feel a firm grip in the clasp of the hand, steadying him against the roll of the boat until the last possible blink. Then, in one smooth move, Twisp shifted farther toward the Merman, shortened his long-armed grip and tipped that side of the boat completely under water. The Merman lurched forward. Twisp twisted his grip, jerking the man toward him. The long left arm released its grip and snaked around the Merman's neck while the other hand came up with the lasgun pressed against the back of his head.

"Don't move or you could disappear out here," Twisp said.

"Go ahead and kill me, Mute!" The Merman thrashed against Twisp.

Twisp tightened his grip. Muscles that single-handedly pulled loaded nets over a coracle's rim stood out in sinewy ropes.

"Tell your mates to step out on deck!" Twisp growled.

"He won't come out and he's going to kill you," the Merman choked. He twisted again in the powerful grip. One foot braced against a thwart and he tried to push Twisp backward.

Twisp lifted the lasgun and brought it down sharply against the man's head. The Merman grunted and went limp. Twisp lifted the lasgun's barrel toward the open hatch and started to rise. He didn't like the idea of going up that ladder fully exposed.

Brett appeared in the hatchway, saw the lasgun directed at him and ducked, shouting: "We've got the foil! Don't shoot!"

Twisp noted blood down Brett's left side, then, and felt his stomach tighten. "You hurt?"

"No. It's not me. But I think we killed this guy in here. Scudi's trying to help him." Brett shuddered. "He wouldn't stop. He came right at the harpoon!"

"Only one in there?"

"Right. Just the two of them. This is the foil Scudi and I stole."

"Bushka," Twisp called, "practice your knots on this one." He heaved the unconscious Merman across the coracle's motor box.

Bushka crept aft, trailing a length of line from the bow. He looked fearful, and kept well back of the Merman.

"Know him?" Twisp asked.

"Cypher. Works for Gallow."

Scudi appeared in the hatchway behind Brett. She looked pale, her dark eyes wide.

"He's dead," she said. "He kept telling me I had to feed his body to the kelp." Her hands didn't know what to do with their smears of blood.

"This one wouldn't give up, either." Twisp looked to where Bushka was tying the limp Merman's hands behind his back and then to his feet. "They're crazy." Twisp returned his attention to Scudi. She slipped a black-handled survival knife back into its sheath at her thigh.

"How'd you get inside?" Twisp asked.

"There's a diver's hatch on the other side," Brett said. "Scudi knows how to work it. We waited until that one stepped off into the boat before boarding. The pilot didn't suspect a thing until we were right behind him." Brett was talking fast, almost breathless. "Why'd he keep coming for me, Queets? He could see I had the harpoon."

"He was stupid," Twisp said. "You weren't." He glanced at Scudi above him, then at her knife.

She followed the direction of his gaze and said, "I didn't know if he was faking."

That one can take care of herself, Twisp thought.

Bushka stood up from tying the Merman. He looked the foil over approvingly. "We've got ourselves a machine."

The Merman on the deck beneath him stirred and muttered.

"Kid!" Twisp used the command tone that Brett remembered so well from their days at sea. He responded without thinking: "Sir?"

"You think we should move aboard the foil?"

Brett flashed a wide grin. "Yes, sir. It's bigger, faster, more mobile and more seaworthy. I certainly do think we should move aboard, sir."

"Scudi, can we get my coracles aboard of her?"

"The cargo hatch is plenty wide enough," she said, "and there's a winch."

"Brett," Twisp said, "you and Scudi start moving our gear aboard. Iz and I will just ask a few questions of this chunk of eelshit."

"If you want to help the kids," Bushka said, "I can handle this one alone." He nudged the Merman at his feet with a toe.

Twisp studied Bushka for a couple of blinks, noting the new tone of assurance in the man's voice. Anger crawled across Bushka's face now and it was directed at the captive.

"Find out what he was looking for," Twisp said. "What was he doing out here?"

Bushka nodded.

Twisp took his boat's bow line and tied it to a foil strut below the boarding ladder. They began shifting gear, moving presently to the tow coracle.

When both coracles were emptied, Twisp paused. He heard Brett and Scudi shifting gear aboard the foil. In the dozens of trips they'd made packing supplies, the two youngsters had touched, bumped against each other or brushed together as often as appeared discreetly possible. Twisp felt good just watching them. Nothing in the world ever felt as good as love, Twisp thought.

Below Twisp, Bushka sat back on his heels, glaring at the captive Merman.

"You getting anything from him?" Twisp asked.

"They've taken the Chief Justice."

"Shit," Twisp snapped. "Let's haul that tow coracle aboard. Keep at him."

Even with the winch, it was sweaty work getting the first coracle aboard. Scudi opened a cargo compartment aft of the loading hatch and the three of them wrestled the boat inside. They lashed it against cleats in the walls.

Scudi stepped out onto the loading deck, glanced behind her and stiffened. "You better come out and look," she said. She was pale as a sun-washed cloud.

Twisp hurried outside, followed by Brett.

Bushka stood over the bound Merman. The man was no longer lashed to the coracle's bow. The naked Merman had been pulled to a hanging position, hung by the wrists, bound up behind his shoulder blades. His dive suit lay in ragged pieces about the deck and his knees barely touched the floors. Bushka held a fish-knife in his right hand, its slender tip directed at the Merman's belly.

The muscles of the captive's arms stood out red but his thin drawn lips were white. His shoulders strained at their sockets. His penis was a shrunken stump of fear tucked against his pelvis.