OF COURSE YOU can go home, Kushtaka assured the twins, but you can't go out in that.
But we're not far from shore, Murel assured her, and we're sea creatures.
Or's'posed to be. We can swim in rough seas, right, Ro?
It is awfully rough out there, sis, he replied dubiously. Kushtaka had dissolved the walls of the sursurvu to ensure that all surveillance devices were in place and all of her people were safely back inside the city. Kushtaka, the twins, Tikka and Sky, Mraka and Puk, surveyed the fitful seas topside while all around them business went on as calmly and matter-of-factly as usual.
But I didn't tell Mum and Da that I was coming here, Murel said. They'll be so worried.
Yes, but without justification at this point, whereas if you go out in that, all of their fears may be realized, Kushtaka told her.
Murel and Ronan stood there with the others watching as the waves scooped so low that the dome momentarily was all but exposed to the night sky. Kushtaka switched from one view to another, surveying the area where devices were recently planted, scrolling over the roaring seas.
The field of icebergs of which Murel's haven had been the handiest specimen now danced like oversized snowflakes on the pitching seas.
Kushtaka focused on that section, watching the icy structures crash together, spin apart, rise like white stars, and fall like comets.
And amid all of these was a lone seal, trying to swim but rolling over and over like a log.
Da! the twins cried together.
You can't be sure it is your father, Kushtaka said.
They were sure, however, and now that they could see him, they felt him calling them. Why else would he be out there? A regular seal would have had his herd and sense enough to be on land this close to shore.
Bring him in, Kushtaka. He'll get killed out there, Murel pleaded.
He's too far, she said. The beam can't reach him.
And so they watched him struggle, disappearing and reappearing until he finally failed to reappear at all.
They huddled together and Kushtaka watched them closely. If she still wanted revenge on them for Jeel, this was a good one.
But she looked as distressed as if seeing them lose sight of their father was like her losing Jeel all over again.
Kushtaka, let me, Mraka said, stepping in front of the leader and raising a paw. The scene shifted and she somehow caused it to pan back and forth, then shifted it again, panned again, a third time, the same procedure, calmly, as if it were a routine she performed every day. Then, Ah, there he is. A bit the worse for wear but closer. I think we have him now. Puk?
They looked around but Puk was no longer there, though they heard his thought, I know.
Da was still trying to swim but he could barely move and mostly just washed back and forth, up and down, with every massive movement of the sea. They felt him calling again, and they called back, Hold on, Da. Help is coming. We're here.
We're safe. It's okay.
Da's head, which had been drooping wearily, lifted in alarm as the horizontal whirlpool beam drilled toward him. They saw his mouth open to bark before the beam grabbed him and pulled him down.
CHAPTER 27
THE COPTER WAS deserted when Yana reached it. Rick would be looking for Johnny and Pet, she thought. She wasn't sure whether she hoped they were with Marmie on the Piaf or would be relieved to find they were still assisting with the refugees.
The snow became a blizzard and then a whiteout, and she had to fly by instrument all the way to Perfect. Her gas gauge ran dangerously low by the time she judged herself close enough to safely set down. She kept transmitting that she was on her way but in return received only a signal as snowy as the weather.
She did manage to land the copter blade side up, however, which was no mean feat. She and the copter were encased within a directionless cocoon of white sky, snow-blanketed landscape, and, most dangerously, sheets and sheets of snow blown hard against her windshield.
She shouldered a survival pack of warm clothing, blankets, rations, and fuel and strapped on her snowshoes again. How was she going to find Perfect in this weather? She could walk in circles within a few feet of the copter and never know the difference.
Her good sense was still warring with her need to find Sean and the kids when a team of harnessed dogs punched through the whiteness. An ice-encrusted figure ran a mitten along the harness until she reached the copter, then peered up at Yana and beckoned.
Yana jerked open the copter's door and jumped the short distance into the snow piling up around it. Her snowshoes sank from the jump, but with the help of the newcomer, she pulled her feet up one by one onto the top layer of snow. Following her rescuer back to the sled, she allowed herself to be strapped in and driven a short distance to a place she could barely see until the newcomer opened the door to a small, blessedly warm cabin. Another parka-clad figure met them at the door, and a man yelled against the wind, following them inside, snow piling up behind them,
"You warm up and make our guests comfortable, will you, Charlene, while I tend to the dogs?"
Yana's driver nodded exaggeratedly so the man could see the gesture even with the parka's hood up.
When the man had closed the door behind him, the woman's parka hood went back and a woman with icicles on her eyelashes, brows, and the fringe of hair around her face smiled a welcome. "Hi, Yana. It's me, Charlene. We met at your twins' last birthday latchkay, but I can't expect you to remember. You were that busy!"
Yana remembered her; Charlene Flood, before her recent marriage. Pretty woman, she showed her Eskimo/Tlingit heritage in her round face, high cheekbones, and almond eyes, but talked faster than an Irish fiddle tune. "Oh, sure. Charlene, hi. I don't think I'd have made it if you hadn't come to get me. Whew!"
"Winter isn't messing about this year, is it?" Charlene asked. "We saw you land.
Fortunately, we hadn't unhitched the dogs yet from picking up the new lad Sean called about or I doubt I'd have still been able to spot you by the time I got there."
They peeled off mittens, hats, scarves, and coats and hung them on hooks inside the door.
"Did Sean come too?" Yana asked, doubting that could be so but hoping. "And how about my kids?"
"I'm afraid not. Cold as he was, it was all we could do to get the young lad to come with us. He's warming his nose over a cuppa now. You look like you could use one too."
Ke-ola sat at the family table near the stove. He wouldn't look up until Yana sat down opposite him.
"I'm sorry, missus-I mean, Colonel," he said miserably. "I was useless. I c couldn't help anyone at all, not Murel or even Sean."
She took a deep breath of nonfrozen air fragrant with the balsam-scented warmth from the fire and said, as if she hadn't another care in the world, "Oh, yes. I know that feeling. They have a way of making you feel like a total waste of space sometimes, don't they?"
"Not you, surely, ma'am!" he said, his lashes dripping water from melted snow or maybe tears when he widened his eyes at her. He was such a big fellow it was hard to remember he was only a little older than Murel and Ronan.
"I'll tell you something, Ke-ola," she said. Charlene poured a cup of tea for both Yana and herself and sat down with them. A track cat slightly smaller than Nanook nudged her knee and curled up under the table, warming all of their feet with its tiger-sized body. "After all those years I spent in the Company Corps and all the action I saw, I never thought when I moved here and finally married I'd settle down to be not only the little woman but the little human in my family. Not that Sean and the kids aren't human too, at least most of the time when I'm with them, but you know what I mean."