"Best thing for you to do, young man," the Merman said, "is to go back to a quiet room. Try being alone again."
The thought pumped Brett's pulse rate back up. He imagined himself alone once more in that little room with those metal walls and all that water ...
"Who brought you in here?" the man asked.
Brett hesitated. "I don't want to cause any trouble."
"You won't," the medic reassured him. "We can get the person who picked you up freed from regular duty to make your entry into life here a little easier."
"Scudi ... Scudi Wang picked me up."
"Oh! There are people waiting for you nearby. Scudi will be able to guide you. Lex," he spoke to a man out of Brett's line of vision, "call down to Scudi at the lab." The medic returned his attention to Brett. "There's no hurry, but you do have to get used to being alone."
A voice behind Brett said, "She's on her way."
"Lots of Islanders have a rough time of it down under at first. I'd say every one, in some way or other. Some recover all at once, a few brood for weeks. You look like you're getting over it."
Someone on the other side of Brett lifted Brett's chin and pressed a container of water to his lips. The water felt cold and tasted faintly of salt.
Brett saw Scudi rushing down the long passage, her small face twisted with worry. The Merman helped Brett to his feet, gripped his shoulder, then hurried toward Scudi. "Your friend's had a stress flash." The man hurried past Scudi, speaking back at her. "Put him through the solo drill before he learns to like the panic, though."
She waved her thanks, then helped Brett manage the walk back to her room.
"I should've stayed," Scudi said. "You were my first, and you seemed to be doing so well ..."
"I thought I was, too," he said, "so don't feel bad. Who was that medic?"
"Shadow Panille. I work with his department in Search and Rescue - Current Control."
"I thought he was a medic, they said -"
"He is. Everyone in S and R holds that rating." Scudi took his arm. "Are you all right now?"
He blushed. "It was stupid of me. I just felt I had to get some air, and when I got out into the passage ..."
"It's my fault," she insisted. "I forgot about stress flash and they're always telling us about it. I felt ... well, like you'd always been here. I didn't think of you as a newcomer."
"The air in the passage felt so thick," Brett said. "Almost like water."
"Is it all right now?"
"Yes." He inhaled a deep breath. "Kind of ... wet, though."
"It gets heavy enough to do your laundry in sometimes. Some Islanders have to carry dry bottles while they're adjusting. If you feel well now, we can report in. Some people are waiting for you." She shrugged at his inquiring look. "You have to be processed, of course."
He stared at her, reassured by her presence but still nursing an abrupt hollow feeling. Islanders heard many stories of the way Mermen regulated everything in their lives - reports for this, tests for that. He started to ask her about this processing but was interrupted as a large group of Mermen clattered past carrying equipment - tanks, hoses, stretchers.
Scudi called after them, "What is it?"
"They're bringing in the accident survivors," one of them hollered.
Ceiling speakers came alive then: "Situation Orange! Situation Orange! All emergency personnel to your stations. This is not a drill. This is not a drill. Keep docking areas clear. Keep passageways clear. Essential duty stations only for regular personnel. Essential duty stations only. All others report to alternate stations. Medical emergencies only in the passages or trauma shed vicinity. Situation Orange. This is not a drill ..."
More Mermen dashed past them. One shouted back, "Clear the passageways!"
"What is it?" Scudi called after him.
"That Island that sank off Mistral Barrier. They're bringing in the survivors."
Brett yelled, "Was it Vashon?"
They ran on without answering.
Scudi pulled at his arm. "Hurry." She directed him down a side passage and pulled up a large hatchway, which slid aside at her touch. "I'll have to leave you here and report to my station."
Brett followed her through a double-hatchway into a cafe. Booths with low-set tables lined the walls. More low tables were scattered throughout the room. Plasteel pillars in rows defined aisleways. Each pillar was set up as a serving-station. A booth in the corner held two people bent toward each other across the table. Scudi hurried Brett toward this booth. As they approached the figure on the right became clear. Brett missed a step. Every Islander knew that face - that craggy head with its elongated neck and its brace work: Ward Keel!
Scudi stopped at the booth, her hand gripping Brett's. Her attention was on Keel's companion. Brett recognized the red-haired woman. He'd glimpsed her on Vashon. Until he'd met Scudi, he'd considered Kareen Ale the most beautiful woman alive. Scudi's low-voiced introduction was not necessary.
"There were supposed to be registration and processing personnel here," Ale said, "but they've gone to their stations."
Brett swallowed hard and looked at Keel. "Mr. Justice, they said a whole Island's been sunk."
"It was Guemes," Keel said, his voice cold.
Ale looked at Keel. "Ward, I suggest that you and young Norton go to my quarters. Don't stay long in the passages and stay inside until you hear from me."
"I must go, Brett," Scudi said. "I'll come for you when this is over."
Ale touched Scudi's arm and they hurried away. Slowly, painfully, Keel eased himself from the booth. He stood, letting his legs adjust to the new position.
Brett listened to the people rushing through the passage outside the hatchway.
Laboriously, Keel began shuffling toward the exit hatch. "Come along, Brett."
As they stepped into the aisle leading toward the exit, a hatch behind them hissed open, gushing the rich smells of garlic fried in olive oil and spices he couldn't name. A man's voice called out: "You two! No one in the passages!"
Brett whirled. A heavy set man with dark gray hair stood in the open hatchway to the kitchen. His rather flat features were set in a scowl, which changed into a forced smile as he looked past Brett and recognized Keel.
"Sorry, Mr. Justice," the man said. "Didn't recognize you at first. But you still shouldn't be in the passages."
"We were instructed to vacate this place and meet the ambassador at her quarters," Keel said.
The man stepped aside and gestured toward the kitchen. "Through here. You can occupy Ryan Wang's old quarters. Kareen Ale will be notified."
Keel touched Brett's shoulder. "This is closer," he said. The man led them into a large, low-ceilinged room flooded with soft light. Brett could not find the light source; it seemed to wash the room equally in gentle tones. Thick, pale blue carpeting caressed Brett's bare feet. The only furnishings appeared to be plump cushions in browns, burnt red and dark blue, but Brett, knowing how Mermen swung things out of walls, suspected other furniture might be concealed behind the hangings.