On a third level, and perhaps the strongest level of all, they shared the unspoken but very real determination to see that Sasha took no harm. She would not be uprooted from everything that was familiar to her to be hammered away at by some Anglos anxious to bring people she didn't know to justice for killing other people she didn't know, Anglos who would be both impatient of and repulsed by her disability.
No. She would remain instead on the beach of her birth, wielding her storyknife in the gray sand, telling stories to a rapt, enchanted audience of Unalaska girls for generations to come.
The thought pleased Kate, and she quickened her pace over the Bridge to the Other Side. She hoped young Andy hadn't managed to stir up any trouble in her absence. That boy needed a keeper.
EIGHT
KATES feet hit the deck with a satisfying thump. Crossing over had not been such an ordeal this time, as it was still light out and this time the Avilda, bless her heart, was only the second boat out from the dock. Whistling, she opened the door to the galley. The whistle died on her lips.
The whole crew was there. Harry Gault, standing, had his arms crossed across his chest and a glower on his face, but as that was his natural expression Kate ignored it. Ned looked as if he might take a bite out of the next person to walk too close to him, but that, too, was natural. Seth, as usual, looked tranquil, even a little bored. Andy was wide-eyed and apprehensive and looked every one of his nineteen years.
The Coast Guard was there, too, in the persons of two officers, crisp and official in blue uniforms, clipboards held at shoulder arms. One was short and stocky and white-haired, the other was short and skinny with brown hair that curled out from beneath his cap in an undisciplined mass. Her cap, Kate realized. When the door opened they turned.
"Hi," she said, shutting the door behind her. "Don't mind me, I'm just the other deckhand."
She leaned up against the wall next to the door and shoved her hands in her pockets. She knew immediately what was going on. It was a snap safety inspection.
What with federal cutbacks they didn't happen all that often anymore, but neither were they unknown, the proof positive standing four feet away from her. She was only sorry that engine maintenance didn't come within the Coasties' purview. She settled back and prepared to enjoy herself.
"Your mast light is out, your fire extinguishers needed servicing six months ago, your Epirb hasn't been tested in seven months, you've forgotten the last time you assembled the crew for an emergency drill, and you can't find your ship's log to jog your memory," the older Coastie said. "Pretty sloppy seamanship, Captain Gault. It's going to cost you."
The thin officer stared around her with a puzzled air.
"This is the Avilda, isn't it?"
Harry ignored her and Ned only scowled. Andy looked as if his vocal cords had frozen in place and Kate wouldn't have volunteered a helpful remark if her life depended on it. "Yes," Seth said laconically.
"Owned by Alaska Ventures? Out of Freetown, Oregon?"
Seth nodded.
The officer looked back down at her list. "I'd never have believed it."
"Okay," the first officer said, "flotation devices."
"There's a survival suit for every crewman on board,"
Harry Gault growled.
"Standard procedure on any boat owned by Alaska Ventures," the second officer said, and met Harry's glare with a smile that said she hoped Harry might try to make something out of the implied insult. Kate found herself liking the younger Coastie without any effort at all.
"Well, trot 'ern out," the first officer said impatiently.
"Come on, your survival suits. Let's see 'em."
Kate was suddenly very still. Her eyes met Andy's across the galley, his alarmed, hers holding a distinct warning.
Nobody moved. Again, it was Seth who broke the stalemate by coming forward and pulling up the seat of the bench that ran around the galley table. He stood staring down for a moment.
"Well?" the first officer said impatiently. "Haul 'ern out, let's take a look."
"Okay," Seth said equably, "but one of 'em you won't have to check. It's already been used."
Harry's head snapped around. "What?"
In reply, Seth reached into the locker and produced the survival suit that Kate had field-tested two nights before. It wasn't exactly dripping, but it had been folded and put away wet. Some of the folds still held water. As they watched, a drop of seawater collected in one fold and dripped to the floor.
The galley was very still. Slowly, Harry looked up, first at Andy, and then, a much longer and more considering look, at Kate. She met his eyes with a slight lift of her brows. The silence stretched out. "What?" she said, ignoring the wet survival suit dangling from Seth's hand, staring straight at Harry with as much innocence as she could muster. "What's the problem?"
Oblivious, the thin officer was pawing through the locker. "One, two, three, four," she said. "And five."
She looked up and counted heads. "One, two, three, four, five. All but four in the original, unopened packaging,"
The stout officer scratched his head. "You know we can't require you to test those suits. Hell, it was only recently we were allowed to require you to carry them.
But," he said, bending a hard look on the skipper, "you have got to know that it's a whole lot safer when your crew is versed in survival suit operations. Look what happened to the Daisy Mae. We found a survival suit still in its package. Hadn't even been opened. Hadn't even been tried on." He gestured. "Not like this one. Ought to have let it dry out before you put it back, though."
"I guess I better 'fess up," Andy said suddenly. Everyone turned toward him, as, behind them, Kate shook her head violently. Ignoring her, he said, "I got curious and tried it on this morning. And then I thought what the hell and took a little dip in the harbor." He grinned. "I'm from Ventura. I'm used to surfing every day. I miss the water."
The two officers exchanged a wooden glance. "There's a world of difference between the water off Ventura and the water in Iliuliuk Bay," the stocky officer said dryly.
"The idea here is to keep the hell out of the water if at all possible." He looked back at his clipboard, making a minute notation to his list. "Anyway, the point is to maintain your boat in such a fashion that you don't have to go swimming." He ripped off a copy and held it out to Harry. For a moment Kate thought he wasn't going to take it. Seth nudged him, and he extended a reluctant hand.
The slip was thrust into it unhesitatingly. "Your owners will receive formal notice within ten days to two weeks.
If I were you, I'd see to rectifying those violations before you ship out again. And if your mooring light is gone, maybe you should check your stock of bulbs for running lights. They generally tend to need to be replaced all at the same time." He touched the brim of his cap. "Good-bye."
Like a skinny mirror image, the second officer echoed the movement. "It's been swell," Kate heard her breathe, and then they were gone.
Harry chewed Andy out for a good five minutes, using every four-letter word in the book and some he made up on the spot, and when he was done, Ned took over.
When he was finished, Andy looked, if not squelched, at least a trifle subdued. Kate stood in the galley with him, knowing he had taken the onus of suspicion on himself, angry because he had, a little grateful, too, and more than a little touched by the gesture. She only hoped it didn't get him killed.