He thought about this. The extent of Merman knowledge suddenly daunted him.
"You know we warn the Islands when we can," she said.
He nodded.
"To mathematic the waves, I must translate them," she said. She patted her head absently, exaggerating her gamin appearance. "Translate is a better word than mathematic," she said. "And I teach what I do, of course."
Of course! he thought. An heiress! A rescuer! And now an expert on waves!
"Who do you teach?" he asked, wondering if he could learn this thing she did. How valuable that would be for the Islands!
"The kelp," she said. "I translate waves for the kelp."
He was shocked. Was she joking, making fun of Islander ignorance?
She saw the expression on his face because she went on, quickly: "The kelp learns. It can be taught to control currents and waves ... when it returns to its former density, it will learn more. I teach it some of the things it must know to survive on Pandora."
"This is a joke, isn't it?" he asked.
"Joke?" She looked puzzled. "Don't you know the stories of the kelp as it was? It fed itself, it moved gases in and out of the water. The hylighters! Oh, I would love to see them! The kelp knew so many things, and it controlled the currents, the sea itself. All of this the kelp did once."
Brett gaped at her. He recalled schooltime stories about the sentient kelp, one creature alive as a single identity in all of its parts. But that was ancient history, from the time when men had lived on solid land above Pandora's sea.
"And it will do this again?" he whispered.
"It learns. We teach it how to make currents and to neutralize waves."
Brett thought about what this might mean to Island life - drifting on predictable currents in predictable depths. They could follow the weather, the fishing ... An odd turn of thought put this out of his mind. He considered it almost unworthy, but who could know for certain what an alien intelligence might do?
Scudi, noting his expression, asked: "Are you well?"
He spoke almost mechanically. "If you can teach the kelp to control the waves, then it must know how to make waves. And currents. What's to prevent it from wiping us out?"
She was scornful. "The kelp is rational. It would not further the kelp to destroy us or the Islands. So it will not."
Again, she stilled a yawn and he recalled her comment that she had to go back to work soon.
The ideas she had put into his head whirled there, though, leaving him on edge, driving away all thought of sleep. Mermen did so many things! They knew so much!
"The kelp will think for itself." He recalled hearing someone say that, a conversation at the quarters of his parents - important people talking about important matters.
"But that could not happen without Vata," someone had said in response. "Vata is the key to the kelp."
That had begun what he remembered as a sprightly and boo-inspired conversation, which, as usual, ran from speculative to paranoid and back.
"I'll turn out the light for your modesty," Scudi said. She giggled and touched the light down through dim to barely shadow. He watched her fumble her way to her bed.
It's dark to her, he thought. For me she just turned down the glare. He shifted on the edge of his bed.
"You have a girlfriend topside?" Scudi asked.
"No ... not really."
"You have never shared a room with a girl?"
"On the Islands, you share everything with everyone. But to have a room, two people alone, that's for couples who are new to each other. For mating. It is very expensive."
"Oh, my," she said. In the shadow-play of his peculiar vision he watched her fingers dance nervously over the surface of her cot.
"Down under we share for mating, yes, but we also share rooms for other reasons. Work partners, schoolmates, good friends. I mean only for you to have one night of recovery. Tomorrow there will be others and questions and tours and much noise ..." Still her hands moved in that nervous rhythm.
"I don't know how I can ever repay you for being so nice to me," he said.
"But it is our custom," she said. "If a Merman saves you, you can have what the Merman has until you ... move on. If I bring life into this compound, I'm responsible for it."
"As though I were your child?"
"Something like." She sighed, and began undressing.
Brett found he could not invade her privacy and averted his eyes.
Maybe I should tell her, he thought. It's not really fair to be able to see this way and not let her know.
"I would prefer not to interfere with your life," he said.
He heard Scudi slip under her blankets. "You don't interfere," she said. "This is one of the most exciting things that has ever happened to me. You are my friend; I like you. Is that enough?"
Brett dropped his clothes and slipped under the covers, pulling them to his neck. Queets always said you couldn't figure a Merman. Friends?
"We are friends, not so?" she insisted.
He offered his hand across the space between the beds. Realizing that she couldn't see it, he picked up hers in his own. She pressed his fingers hard, her hand warm in his. Presently, she sighed and removed her hand gently.
"I must sleep," she said.
"Me, too."
Her hand lifted from the bed and found the switch on the wall. The whale sounds stopped.
Brett found the room exquisitely quiet, a stillness he had not imagined possible. He felt his ears relaxing, then, an alertness ... suddenly listening for ... what? He didn't know. Sleep was necessary, though. He had to sleep. His mind said: "Something is being done about informing your parents and Queets." He was alive and family and friends would be happy after their fears and sadness. Or so he hoped.
After several nervous minutes, he decided the lack of motion was preventing sleep. The discovery allowed him to relax more, breathe easier. He could remember with his body the gentle rocking motion topside and thought hard about that, tricking his mind into the belief that waves still lifted and fell beneath him.
"Brett?" Scudi's voice was little more than a whisper.
"Yes?"