Ship would know he was here and what he was doing. Nothing escaped Ship. Did that omnipotent awareness work through phenomena similar to those of Avata? Was it awareness of even the most minute changes in electrical impulses? Or was it some other form of energy which Ship and Avata monitored?

That presence from space was coming closer . . . closer. He felt it, then he saw it.

The freighter skipped up the horizon, a great stone crossing the surface of a glassy sea. The fall into atmosphere was deceptive. The freighter had entered Pandora’s pull at the lowest point on the horizon. It streaked a long upward arc as Panille felt it fill his awareness. It grew larger with its approach around the planet’s curvature, and he saw it now falling white-hot toward him.

The crunch of gravel told him of Thomas’ approach, but Panille had only a single purpose now. The approaching freighter was himself and he was diving through the sky alight with amber.

“Can you do it?” Thomas asked.

“I am doing it,” Panille whispered. He begrudged the distraction of answering.

Until he had seen the pinpoint of that first glow against the Pandoran dusk, Panille had not been sure he could master this thing.

“I’m thinking them in,” he whispered. There was awe and wonder in his voice.

“Who is coming?” Thomas asked.

“Avata did not say.”

Thomas emitted a wry, jibing chuckle. “It’s a surprise package from Ship. Maybe more recruits for me.”

He moved around Panille and climbed down out of sight along the narrow path, his figure a mysterious movement in the half light.

Going to the shore where the surf crashes. The surf will make this landing perilous.

As the last sound of Thomas faded from Panille’s awareness, darkness fell—the Double Dark in which Pandora’s greatest mysteries blossomed.

Panille thought of himself now as a beacon. He was a signal transmitter in a known position. The freighter and its unknown passengers depended on his constancy. Avata wanted this freighter to land here. He trusted Avata.

Come to the sea, he thought. The sea . . . the sea . . .

Hylighters began whistling along a rock ledge ahead of him and he knew it was time to join Thomas on the shore. He got up stiffly. It had been a long wait on the observation ledge. Knowing this, he had scavenged a singlesuit of white shipcloth which Avata had stored in the nest.

A hylighter positioned itself above and behind him as he began the slow climb down to the shore. Panille sensed tentacles dangling near, ready to grasp him should he fall.

Avata, Brother, he thought.

It fluted a brief reply.

The sharp rocks and the difficulty of the dark cliff path were second nature to Panille’s body. He did not have to think about the climb. And he found that he could maintain the beacon while his thoughts wandered. His mind strayed back to Thomas’ unbelieving interrogation.