The foil swung wide astern and sank into the channel through the kelp. The jet subsided to a faint hiss. A heavy wave rolled out from the foil's bow and rocked the coracles. The squawks set up a loud complaint.
Once more, Twisp raised a hand in greeting and waved the approaching foil to the left, indicating the long line of his net with its bobbing floats. When no more than twenty meters separated the craft, Twisp shouted, "Good weather and a good catch!"
He tightened his grip on the lasgun. The choppy cross-waves set up by the foil broke over the coracle's thwarts and soaked him.
Still no response from the foil, which now loomed high over him and no more than ten meters away. Its side hatch slid open and a Merman appeared there in a camouflaged dive suit - green blobs and stripes. The foil slid alongside and came to a stop.
The Merman standing above Twisp said, "I thought Mutes never fished alone."
"You thought wrong."
"I thought no Mute fished out of sight of his Island."
"This one does."
The Merman's quick eyes flitted over both coracles, followed the line of floats astern, then fixed on Twisp.
"Your net's strung along a kelp bed," he said. "You could lose it that way."
"Kelp means fish," Twisp said. He kept his voice level, calm. He even flashed a smile. "Fishermen go where the catch is."
Under the foil's bow, too low to be visible to the Merman, Twisp saw Scudi slip up for air, then drift down.
"Where's your catch?"
"What's it to you?"
The Merman squatted on the deck above Twisp and looked down at him. "Listen, shit-bug, you can disappear out here. Now I've got some questions and I want answers. If I like the answers, you keep your net, your boat, your catch and maybe you keep alive. Do you understand?"
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.