"Everyone can't go onto the land at once," she said. "Only the most needy at first. We think other Islands will have to be moored offshore ... or rafts may be built for such nearby moorage. They'll be temporary living quarters until the agricultural system is well along."
Keel thought about this a moment, then: "You have been thinking this out for a long time."
"We have."
"Organizing Islanders' lives for them and -"
"Trying to figure out how to save the lot of you!"
"Oh?" He laughed. "By putting us on bedroom rafts near shore?"
"They'd be ideal," she said. He could see a genuine excitement in her eyes. "As the need for them vanished, we could let them die off and use them for fertilizers."
"Our Islands, too, no doubt - fertilizer."
"That's about all they'll be good for when we have enough open land."
Keel could not keep the bitterness out of his voice. "You do not understand, Kareen. I can see that. An Island is not a dead piece of ... of land. It's alive! It is our mother. It supports us because we give it loving care. You are condemning our mother to a bag of fertilizer."
She stared at him a moment, then: "You seem to think Islanders are the only ones giving up a way of life. Those of us who go back to the surface -"
"Will still have access to the deeps," he said. "You are not cutting the umbilical cord. We would suffer more in the transition. You seem willing to ignore this."
"I'm not ignoring it, dammit! That's why you're here."
Time to end the sparring, he thought. Time to show her that I don't really trust her or believe her.
"You're hiding things from me," he said. "I've studied you for a long time, Kareen. There's something boiling in you, something big and important. You're trying to control what I learn, feeding me selected information to gain my cooperation. You -"
"Ward, I -"
"Don't interrupt. The quickest way to gain my cooperation is to open up, share everything with me. I will help if that's what should be done. I will not help, I will resist, if I feel you are concealing anything from me."
She stopped them at a dogged hatch and stared at it without focusing.
"You know me, Kareen," he prompted. "I say what I mean. I will fight you. I will leave ... unless you restrain me ... and I will campaign against -"
"All right!" She glared up at him. "Restrain you? I wouldn't dare consider it. Others might, but I would not. You want me to share? Very well. The bad trouble has already started, Ward. Guemes Island is under the waves."
He blinked, as if blinking would clear away the force of what she'd said.
An entire Island, under the waves! "So," he growled, "your precious current controls didn't work. You've driven an Island onto -"
"No." She shook her head for emphasis. "No! No! Someone has done it deliberately. It had nothing to do with Current Control. It was a cruel, vicious act of destruction."
"Who?" He spoke the word in a low, shocked voice.
"We don't know yet. But there are thousands of casualties and we're still picking up survivors." She turned and undogged the hatch. Keel saw the first signs of age in her slow movements.
She's still holding something back, he thought as he followed her into her quarters.
***
Humans spend their lives in mazes. If they escape and cannot find another maze, they create one. What is this passion for testing?
-"Questions from the Avata," the Histories
Duque began to curse, rolling in the nutrient bath and pounding his fists against the organic sides until great blue stains appeared along the edge.
The guardians summoned the C/P.
It was late and Simone Rocksack had been preparing for bed. At the summons, Simone pulled her favorite robe over her head and let it drop over the firm curves of her breasts and hips. The robe in its purple dignity erased all but the slightest traces of womanliness from her bearing. She hurried down the passage from her quarters, pulling at her robe to restore some of its daytime crispness. She entered the gloomy space where Vata and Duque existed. Her anxiety was obvious in every moment. Kneeling above Duque, she said: "I am here, Duque. It is the Chaplain/Psychiatrist. How can I help you?"
"Help me?" Duque screamed. "You wart on the rump of a pregnant sow! You can't even help yourself!"
Shocked, the C/P put a hand over the flap covering