Angie and Fatu faced each other. “You couldn't beat this out of me any more than I could you, if you were the one who knew, Fatu,” she said. “So, for the sake of my aching body, let's not waste time trying, all right?”
“What's going on?” Pua demanded. “Why are you fighting?”
“Does Pua know?”
Angie shook her head.
“Know what?” Pua looked from Angie to Fatu, then back again at Angie.
Angie smiled. “Now, it's my turn, Waterbaby.”
Chapter 22
The warden's plan made sense. Fatu recognized that; he even agreed to implement it. But it still left him highly uncomfortable.
He found himself watching the woman with deep suspicion. How, after all that time, had she found the missing records? Pua swore she and the warden had been together the entire night. The only time the woman had been alone was while she was studying the computer files in the underwater pump station—and she only laughed and shook her head when they asked her if the TC records were there.
“They're much closer than that,” was all she would say. They finished the food preparations and transferred the entire feast to Second Island. The wind was still rising, and rain squalls were frequent, making an outdoor event impossible. Fatu did not want to use crews’ quarters or the main house to stage his ceremony, so he chose the burial cave instead. In addition to offering the best storm shelter at Pukui, the cave seemed the most appropriate place to confront Crawley and his minions.
The warden agreed readily, but Pua balked.
“I don't want to go in there with the ghosts,” she said.
“The spirits in that cave belong to Pukui,” Fatu assured her. “If they are angered by anyone's presence, it won't be by ours. The ghosts of Pukui's dead would never do anything to hurt you.”
“How are they going to tell us apart?” she asked. “Auntie Puhi said some of those Earthers on the hydrobus have gills. What if the ghosts get us mixed up?”
“Nothing bothered me while I was in the cave,” the warden said. “And I was entirely new to Pukui then.”
Pua glared at her. “Well, of course they wouldn't bother you! You're practically one of them!”
The warden started. Pua declined to explain the remark, but the warden obviously found it intriguing. Several times during the morning, Fatu caught glimpses of her standing very still inside the cave, one or both hands spread across the cool, damp stone. She appeared to be listening.
Pua agreed to the site finally, but during their preparations, she rarely moved past the entrance to the cave. She carried food packages and supplies, clicker fronds, and armloads of friendly vines just inside, then hurriedly retreated. At first, Katie was reticent about working in the cave, too, but the warden talked her into it with a handful of Maldarian caramels.
By midday, preparations in the cave were complete. They had been held up only once, when the warden stood to stretch in a low-ceilinged portion of the cave. Her fingers brushed the trailing roots of friendly vine plants and were immediately tangled in the strong, thin fibers. The roots wrapped much faster and tighter than their companion vines growing aboveground. Fatu had laughed and cut her free, but Pua began glancing at dark corners again.
Pua and the warden slept for two hours, while Fatu remained awake to watch. Then they all joined the net crews. The crippled bus would be easy to spot as it approached the reef, so there would be time to return to the Second Island dock well before the bus reached it.
The water was rough in the outer lagoon. Great rolling waves crashed over the exposed western barrier reef, churning the shallows atop the reef flat into a froth. The tide was still low enough that most of the turbulence remained in the outer lagoon, but even the inner lagoon waters were increasingly dangerous to the swimmers.
Zena kept a constant check on the satellite reports of the passing storm, and at the warden's orders was prepared to pull the swimmers from the water at any point she felt it was too dangerous for them to continue.
“I don't remember ever getting this much surge from a storm so far off,” Zena said as evening approached. “Feels more like it's coming right at us.”
Fatu frowned toward the horizon. The ominous mass of clouds felt too close. “We can be glad this one isn't coming at us. It's a great-grandmother of a storm even if the cameras don't show it.”
“Swimmers are getting edgy,” Zena said.
Fatu nodded. “Keep ’em in the water as long as you can. Remind them there's clear sky due tomorrow and the warden set a double bonus for anyone working tonight. You know it's supposed to mean good luck if you pass the night of alignment before the first big storm hits.”
Zena nodded, but her dark expression didn't change. She continued to watch the horizon. They both ignored the Pull crew order that flickered on the incoming-message screen. Lili was underwater with her crews and had not seen the order. She had, in fact, not come near the comm for the past several hours.
“The Company guards will probably take to the water as soon as they're inside the pass,” Fatu said. “They won't be carrying lasers—the Company won't take a chance on breaking the law now. But they'll have spearguns and knives, and they know how to use them.” He tapped the message screen as he was about to leave. “Be sure this gets busted before they get here.”
“Aye,” Zena replied. Her steady gaze never left the sky.
* * * *
Fatu ordered two swimmers to meet the bus at the farm pass and lead it to the Second Island dock. Then he went there himself with the aid of one of Pua's rays. He was amazed at how calm the giant creatures were in the turbulent waters. They seemed entirely under Pua's control. She rode with him and the warden as far as the dock, then disappeared back under the water. She had promised to return in time for the feast.
The dock was located inside the channel between the two islands, where it was protected somewhat from the wind. The wind still gusted with force from time to time, however, and the sound of it whistling through the trees on the upper slopes echoed eerily. Fatu checked the satellite map again before joining the warden in a nearby freshwater overflow stream. They rinsed away the taste of the sea, then checked the cave one last time.
When everything was prepared to his satisfaction, Fatu carefully wrapped his finest formal lavalava around his waist and fastened it with a wide, woven belt.
“Is that candleberry?” the warden asked as he rubbed sweet-smelling oil onto his arms and chest.
He nodded. “From the bush in Lehua's room. I want her to be here for this.”
She was standing with one hand on the wall, completely at ease in the cave. She had donned a clean shirt and trousers of the same color she always wore, green on green. She wore no insignia of rank.
“Lehua is here now,” she said.
“How is it that a mainlander like you feels the spirits of this place so clearly?” he asked.
She smiled. “Islanders aren't the only humans who maintain conscious connections with their environment, Fatu. I was brought up close to the land. I was taught to pay attention to it. Not many who grow up in the industrialized world have that opportunity anymore. Most are insulated from the land from the moment they're born, and they grow up believing that's the way it's supposed to be. Technomythology, I call it—the mistaken belief that technology is the prime factor, and the natural world just its adjunct.”
He glanced toward the med kit she had brought into the cave. “You still make use of technology,” he said.
“Does a Samoan refuse a fish because it was caught in a plastic net?” she replied.
He lifted a brow. “You're very skilled at using other people's cultural values to rationalize your own.”
She shrugged.
Fatu glanced up at the trailing friendly vines. “I envy you,” he said. “I envy you your role as a warrior here at Pukui.” He lifted his hands and stared at his calloused palms. “I am a strong man. I am not afraid to fight or to die. I was one of those who made the original deci
sion to take this course, and I have been a part of it ever since. Yet it is you, a stranger, and Toma and—and sweet Pua who must continually face the enemy directly.”
He stared around at the cave, which was almost festive in its ceremonial splendor. “Always, I must remain at the side. Watching, controlling our enemies’ actions by my own inaction. Even now, on this day of final confrontation, all I can do is offer welcome to the very people who are trying to steal our land and our children.”
“No honest cause succeeds without a strong heart,” the warden said. “You once told me that names carry great meaning here. Your own name translates as the ‘rock’ or ‘heart’ of the island, the strength of the families. Your role of silent patience is, by far, the most difficult one.
“It was your strength that allowed Pua to survive the Earth recon station, Fatu. I realized that as soon as I saw you together. It was you who kept Pukui from being destroyed all those months Pua was away. And it is you who have provided us with the means to set the battle in motion tonight.”
“I would rather be the one who cracks the bastards’ skulls,” he said. He left her there in the cave and descended to meet the bus.
Toma looked exhausted when he came ashore. It was clear that the long, slow trip had been difficult, even for those fortunate few who had not become sick along the way. The deck of the crippled bus was strewn with the wreckage of its abrupt encounter with the coiler. Injured and exhausted Earthers lay amid tangles of broken line and scattered cargo.
“What the hell happened?” Fatu asked, feigning surprise.
“You're never going to believe it,” Toma said. He reached out to assist one of the Earthers onto the dock. She was an elderly woman, whom Fatu recognized as a member of the U.N. team. He pointed her toward several Pukui swimmers at the end of the dock. They would guide the visitors to the stream and then the cave. They and their less obvious companions would also serve to keep an eye on the Earther waterguards still in Crawley's party.
“We were two and a half hours out, running smooth,” Toma said, “when a reef-loving coiler hit one of the hydro struts. Damn thing's almost as big around as you are, and it's wrapped so tight around that wing, it'll take lasers to get it off.” He wiped an arm across his forehead. “We couldn't get hydrofoil lift, and the wing couldn't retract all the way, so we had to come in hull down at full slow. I couldn't even call Landing for a rescue bus—the comm got smashed in the crash. It was not a comfortable trip.”
Nori Yoshida stepped onto the dock as Toma was speaking. He looked as primly clean as the last time Fatu had seen him, although considerably more tired. Somehow it did not surprise Fatu that the inspector was not prone to seasickness. He did, however, smell. The entire bus stank—of overstrained engines, spilled fuel, and human sweat and vomit.
“A coiler?” Fatu had no trouble expressing his shock. Even after all these hours and seeing the damaged bus itself, he still had trouble believing it.
“That's what's causing the starboard list,” Toma said. “I'll take you down later for a look. Maybe you can figure a way to get it off. Right now, we've got a lot of sick Earthers on our hands.”
Fatu expressed what he hoped was an appropriate amount of sympathy for the bus's passengers and crew. He directed another stumbling Earther past Yoshida, who did nothing to help, then asked, “What were you doing on a bus in the first place? Crawley and the inspector, here, were never interested in the scenic tour before.”
Crawley appeared at the door of the bus's cabin. He was being supported by the elderly Dr. Waight, who looked as cold and hard and healthy as she had the morning Zed and Lehua had been taken away. Fatu gained a moment of satisfaction from the fact that Crawley had obviously not fared as well. The admin man looked positively green.
Toma explained about the methane fire at Kobayashi's Reef. “The rest of Crawley's security guards will be out when air transport is available. Probably sometime tomorrow morning.”
Fatu frowned. “Just what Pukui needs. More tide-pissin’ Company swimmers who don't know what they're doing.” Yoshida shifted but said nothing.
“Were there injuries at Kobe's?” Fatu asked as Crawley and Waight approached the side of the bus. He would be expected to show concern.
“A few burns,” Toma said. “One swimmer got tangled in a hunk of torn netting, but they got her out with just bruises and a couple of gashes on her legs. She'll carry scars, but she'll swim again. They figure a week or more on the cleanup. A lot of good reef is going to be lost.” A small price to pay, his eyes said, if it has helped to save Pukui.
As Crawley stepped onto the dock, he pushed away from the old woman. He stank worse than Yoshida, and the makeup he always wore was smeared and streaked. It highlighted the scars on his cheek.
Good for you, Pua, Fatu thought. There was no mistaking the shape of scars left by a waterworlder's nails, and at least one of those crisscrossing Crawley's right cheek was old enough that it could only have been made by Pua. Either she or the warden had gotten him again more recently.
“I want you to send as many Company swimmers as you have transportation for to Kobayashi's Reef,” Crawley said. He coughed and spat into the water. His breath reeked. He swayed, but pushed Dr. Waight's arm away.
“I told you,” Toma said wearily, “it won't do any good to disrupt things here at Pukui now. There's nothing more that needs doing out at Kobe's that can't be done by the crews already there.”
“I'm not talking to you, Doctor Haili.” Crawley's sharp glance snapped back to Fatu. “You heard my order,” he said. “Get on it.”
“It's a long swim to Kobe's,” Fatu said calmly.
Crawley frowned. He glanced at Toma, then at Yoshida, who was still standing close by, then back at Fatu.
“We have no transport here at Pukui,” Fatu went on. “Company orders have stripped us of all but the slowest of innerlagoon vessels. The only thing that could even make it there is the disposal barge, and that would take at least a week.”
“You have flitters,” Yoshida said. “You can ferry—”
“We had flitters,” Fatu said, turning to him. “One is down for routine maintenance, two have been sabotaged by only the reef knows who, and the rest were conscripted for Company use months ago. The only properly working long-distance flit we have is the warden's, and that's not here right now.”
“You had no business allowing that woman to leave Pukui,” Yoshida snapped. It was a small slip, enough to let Fatu know that they had, indeed, been tracing the locators.
“She's your woman, Inspector. You keep track of her.”
Something deep in Yoshida's dark eyes confirmed what Fatu had suspected but had not been able to determine from the warden's few cryptic comments: Yoshida had been the warden's lover—and he had used that relationship to deceive her. Not for anything along the wormhole would I want to be in your shoes right now, Inspector, he thought. He glanced down. The Company inspector was actually wearing shoes. Fatu bit back a smile.
“Why did you bring us here to this godforsaken place?” Crawley demanded. “I won't allow any more stalling, Fatu. I want—” He collapsed in on himself, clutching his stomach. He dropped to his knees and heaved. After hours of seasickness on the bus, there was nothing left to come up but a thin string of yellow mucus. Yoshida stepped back.
Fatu steadied Crawley, then lifted him again to his feet. “Come on,” he said. “You'll feel better after a bath and something to eat.” Crawley almost heaved again, but controlled the reflex.
“The wind and tide are too high to use the main dock,” Fatu explained as he led Crawley and the others toward the makeshift bathing area. “We've set up a shelter in the burial cave. It'll be safer there if the storm gets worse. It shouldn't, but it never hurts to be careful.”
“I want all the Company crews out of the water,” Crawley said. “Do it now!”
“Seas aren't all that rough yet,” Fatu said.
“Do it!” Crawley shouted. “Send an order out to those barg
es now.”
“You already sent the order through your waterguards,” Toma said.
“Barge comm's been out for the last two hours,” Fatu added. “Something got dropped on it, I suspect.”
“This is just another one of your—”
“You should take better care of yourself, Crawley. You look terrible.”
They all stopped at the warden's unexpected voice. She was leaning, arms folded, against the bole of a clicker-palm tree. Her green on green, and her absolute stillness, had kept her invisible even to Fatu.
“What are you doing here?” Crawley said. His shock at her presence was gratifyingly clear.
She lifted one brow. “Where else would I be?”
“But your—” He caught himself. “He—Fatu said you left in the flitter.”
“I'm back,” she said. She nodded at Dr. Waight, who was staring at her casually displayed hands, then turned her slow look toward Yoshida. “Hello, Nori,” she said. Her voice was so pleasant it sent chills up Fatu's back.
“Warden,” Yoshida replied softly. He, too, was staring at her hands.
“Fatu has prepared a welcoming feast,” the warden said without turning away from Yoshida. “You'll probably want to clean up and rest a bit first. Then we can start the ceremonies.”
“We're not going through any phony ceremonies,” Crawley said. “You order those crews out of the water right now.” He glanced around at the watching, listening U.N. inspection team. “It's—too dangerous to keep them working in this storm.”
The warden eyed him for a moment, then motioned one of the Pukui swimmers nearer. “Take word out to Zena that Lili can pull her crews till the weather clears,” she told him. “Then tell Lili and the other crew bosses to come up and join us. The non-Company crews don't need them on-site, and they're probably ready for a little merry-making about now. They've all put in a heavy day's work.”
“You've exceeded your authority, Dinsman,” Crawley said. “You weren't supposed to destroy any of that algae until the TC records were found. I want an explanation, and I want it—”
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