So the journey continued, but Qi'tik's worries remained. By the time the ranging crossed the equatorial heat it had lost half of its liner forces; all of the most aggressive whites and nearly half the white tips had been turned away, unable to be controlled by Wesafricanezsong's sub-net, which was the only net able to manage the production of chemical markers that kept the remaining liners under the control of the shoal-militia, and those in much reduced levels.

The other Bastions had, through great trial and effort, been coerced into a joined net, the absence of Wesafricanezsong's negative interpretation of the message allowing Namericasonn and Grehnapnaize to form an uneasy truce for the time being. Still, things were finely balanced. Not all the liners set free had left the ranging and returned to their home cruising ground. Some continued to follow in the wake of the ranging, occasionally taking members of the ranging's outer shoals. Mostly the loss was to non-sentient shoal beings, but occasionally a Self was taken. One such Self was Tounez, who had saved the nets with Mil'pek, and his experience was missed most sorely over the many brights that followed. No-self could explain why Tounez had left the safety of the ranging unaccompanied, and Qi'tik was busy for a long time reviewing security and reorganising the various shoals of the ranging to better protect against the threat of the wild liners.

Over time the tang of the water changed and it became cooler once more. Qi'tik could taste markers familiar from home; ice-melt, dust from far away Drys, the deadly, seductive aroma of water-black, but all of it strange and exotic. As they approached their destination, other markers began to emerge. The scouts far ahead of the main body caught it first, reporting back the fact many brights before Qi'tik could taste it herself; the mingled-sourness of another ranging, the information within devoid of meaning and alien to all in the Nam'bia.

Then came the day the rock was found. This was the place the message told of; a mountain in the brine with only its tip extending above the waves into the life giving air, barren of any living thing except a few sky-beings. No more than a marker; a place to meet. The scouts had been drawn back to the main body and their number bolstered by a liner squadron, with other squadrons patrolling the ranging's perimeter. Qi'tik was with the scouts. Around her swam a hundred or so of the small units that made up a fraction of the scout body - many thousands more were out of sight, spread out across a line several hundred of lengths long - and their signals dazzled and distracted her from her thoughts. When she next broached to breath, she paused, head above the brine's surface, scrutinising the rock. It was grey and forbidding, the sides rising shear from the brine. But every now and then, she thought she could make out movement on the rock itself; a whitish blob, moving slowly up or down, sometimes near the top, then nearer the brine, then back up to a small rock shelf upon which the thing rested, and it disturbed her in ways she couldn't explain.