Reefsong

by Carol Severance

  “I protest the use of drugs,” Fatu said. “I am a free citizen of Lesaat and offer to speak freely without drug intervention.”

  “Do you know where the total-conversion records are?” she asked.

  “I do not.”

  “This is the only way I have of proving that,” she said. “Toma, you're the keeper of the law here. Can you name any reason why I shouldn't question this man, given the seriousness of the situation?” Angie hoped Fatu had had a chance to tell him they were working together. It would be awkward if she had to stop now.

  Toma stared at Fatu for a long moment. “The ‘interested parties’ must be formally recorded before you begin,” he said.

  Angie nodded, relieved, and turned toward Crawley. “World Life Company,” he snapped. “On behalf of the United Nations Earth Preservation Service.”

  “The United Nations, on behalf of all the peoples of Earth,” the U.N. rep said.

  And then into the brief silence, “Pualeiokekai noun Zedediah me Kalehuaokalae Pukui, on behalf of the children of Lesaat.”

  “What—” Crawley began.

  “Recorded,” Toma said, although it was clear that he had not expected Pua's comment. He watched her—they all did—as she made her way to Fatu's side and sat.

  Angie broke the seal on the med kit and lifted out a small adhesive patch. Fatu tensed but did not protest as she applied it to the side of his neck. He blinked, then closed his eyes, fighting the drug despite his agreement to their plan. He blinked his eyes open again. “I still protest,” he said.

  “Will you answer my questions?” she asked.

  He shook his head no. He said, “Yes.”

  Angie sighed. She hated this, even when it was done voluntarily. She ran a quick list of standard questions given in all such interrogations to determine the depth of veracity the drug had induced.

  “Fatu, do you know where the missing TC records are?” she asked finally. Crawley and several of the U.N. reps leaned forward.

  “No,” Fatu said.

  Crawley slapped the ground. “He's lying. He has to know.”

  Angie asked the question again and again, wording it in every possible way. The response remained the same.

  “There's something wrong with the drug,” Crawley said.

  The U.N. rep who had examined the med kit shook her head. “The seal was unbroken,” she said. “He's telling the truth.”

  “Fatu, who is Sa le Fe'e?” Nori said sharply.

  All eyes turned toward Nori, then Angie, then quickly back to Fatu. Fatu remained silent.

  “That was the wrong question,” Angie said very softly. She lifted a quick hand to stop Nori from speaking again. “And if you speak to my interrogation subject again, I'll have you up here. Do you understand me, Inspector?”

  His chin lifted. The U.N. team members murmured among themselves. “Warden, we'd like you to pursue Mr. Yoshida's question,” one of them said. Nori smiled smugly and sat back.

  Thank you very much, Nori love, she said silently—and meant it. She turned back to Fatu. “Fatu, what is Sa le Fe'e?”

  Fatu's huge body seemed to cave in on itself. He had held the secret for so long that, even willingly, he had difficulty giving it up.

  “It's where we hide our children,” he whispered at last.

  “Fatu, what children?” she asked above the startled reactions of his audience. It grew silent again.

  “Our waterworld children. The changed ones.”

  “The other ones like Pua?” Angie pressed.

  “Yessss...” It was a long, soft sigh.

  “Fatu, tell us where they—”

  Angie backhanded Nori away from Fatu. He tumbled into the waterworlders, who immediately gagged and restrained him. “Take him out of here,” Angle said. “Put him someplace safe but not necessarily comfortable.” The inspection team buzzed with questions as Nori was wrestled from the cave.

  Crawley started to his feet, but Waight whispered something to him and pulled him back down. The waterguards shifted to create a protective phalanx around Crawley and Waight. Interesting, Angie thought, that they don't seem concerned about Yoshida. He and Crawley were definitely not on good terms.

  “Fatu,” she said, “are the TC records hidden at Sa le Fe'e?”

  “No,” he said. Then he frowned. He looked right at her. “I don't think so.”

  “What is this about other children?” one of the team members asked. “What's he talking about?”

  “Find out where they are,” Waight urged.

  Pua stood. This was the part they had planned—the part Pua had insisted on doing herself. Her earlier performance, Angie now understood, had been designed as a perfect prelude. Pua lifted her hand for silence.

  “I'll tell you what Fatu is talking about,” she said. Toma looked as if he were about to choke, but Angie shook her head slightly, and he held back.

  “My good friend Fatu speaks of the children of Lesaat.” Pua's compelling orator's voice and stance returned. “He speaks of the true children. The waterchildren. My children. We have remained in hiding because we are so few and our lives are very precious. We are the children of Le Fe'e, and we ask for your protection.”

  “We didn't come here to listen to this little brat's nonsense,” Crawley said. “Continue questioning the man, Dinsman.”

  Pua turned to the leader of the U.N. team. He was one of those most closely aligned with Crawley, but it was the proper protocol. Angie had coached Pua very carefully about that.

  “We, the true children of Lesaat, invoke our rights as guaranteed under the Native Rights Act of 2017,” Pua said. “We petition for the protection of our lives, our lands and waters, and our way of life.”

  “What—”

  “This is ridiculous,” Crawley said. “You can't—”

  “Is she serious?” one of the U.N. people said.

  “Are there more like her?” another asked. “I thought she was the only one.”

  “You were hired to find the TC records for the Company, Dinsman,” Crawley shouted. “Not to find ways around Lesaat's inheritance laws. I'm not going to stand for—”

  “We're still recording, Mr. Crawley,” Angie said, and that shut him up fast.

  She stood. “Pua and the others in her small band meet all the traditional and legal requirements set for establishing indigenous-peoples status. They are a small group, culturally and physically isolated, they have their own unique language, and they most definitely live in intimate proximity with their environment. Most important, they exhibit a measurable biological unity, with genetic characteristics found nowhere else among human populations.”

  She glanced at Crawley. “That last requirement, I believe, was one World Life Company lobbied hard for back in the days when the legal definition of indigenous peoples was being devised.” It had virtually guaranteed that no new Earth-bred peoples could claim that status. “Pua's request has been entered on the public net as well as being made formally to this United Nations team. It cannot be withdrawn without some resolution.”

  “Warden,” the U.N. leader said, “this is all very interesting, even moving. And it certainly warrants further study. But what does it have to do with either saving Pukui Reef or finding the total-conversion enzyme? I assure you, those two things, particularly the latter, remain our primary concern here. That is, after all, why you are questioning this man.”

  “Pua and the children of Lesaat are Pukui,” Angie said. “We cannot protect one without protecting the other.”

  “That's rubbish,” Crawley said. “You're just—”

  “You cannot gain access to the TC enzyme,” the warden went on, “without negotiating through Pua. And since I am Pua's legal guardian, you can't deal with her without first dealing with me. Now, shall we discuss this or not?”

  Chapter 24

  Pua just loved it when the mountainlady did things like that—set everything up so that everyone thought they understood but really were confused, and then dropped a bomb
on them. The shells at the edges of her headdress tickled the edges of her gill seals as she attempted to restrain her laughter.

  Crawley had jumped up and was nose-to-nose with the warden, shouting and gesturing. The warden just stared at him in her calm, quiet way. The others were up as well and were shouting and demanding attention and explanations. Only Dr. Waight and Fatu remained seated. The old lady was probably too full to get up. She had eaten like a pigfish out of every dish but the one containing the loli.

  Thinking of that made Pua grin. She had gotten them all with that one, except for Crawley himself, who was too stupid to know what he was being offered.

  A hand touched her shoulder and pulled her around. “Is it true? Do you know where your parents’ records are?” the U.N. team leader demanded. His breath still smelled faintly of the hydrobus ride. “You have to tell us. They're very important. You can help.”

  Toma separated them before Pua could answer. “Address your questions to the warden,” he said sharply.

  “Do you know?” he breathed into Pua's ear.

  She shook her head. But she does, she clicked. She nodded toward the warden. Toma's eyes widened.

  “Stay close to Fatu,” he said. “I'll try to settle things down.”

  Pua squatted beside Fatu and pursed her lips at Dr. Waight, who had been leaning forward toward him. “Get away,” Pua said, and the old woman backed off quickly, glowering. Pua lifted a strand of shells from her neck and placed it around Fatu's.

  “Fatu,” she asked softly. “Can you talk?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  She glanced up at the warden. Toma was trying to intervene between her and Crawley. Neither was paying Pua any attention. She leaned closer to Fatu.

  “Do you really have to tell the truth, even if you don't want to?”

  “Yes.”

  She grinned and leaned closer still. “Fatu,” she murmured. “What did you and Ehu do together that night after we cleared the puhi from number twelve?”

  The warden slid down beside her. “Fatu, don't answer that.”

  She eyed Pua coolly. “Do you want me to put you out in the rain with the inspector, Waterbaby?” she said. But there was laughter behind the words. Pua could hear it, even if no one else could.

  Calm began to reassert itself in the cave. As the noise level dropped, the distant sound of pounding surf and wind whistling through the inter-island canyon could be heard again. The weather seemed to be getting worse instead of better. Pua suddenly found herself eager to get back to the reef. She became conscious again of being inside the burial cave. She glanced around, but whatever ghosts were there remained hidden.

  “This is the situation,” the warden said, loudly enough so that everyone stopped talking and listened. Pua wondered if she, too, felt uneasy about this storm that wouldn't stop. “Pua is the publicly acknowledged heir to her parents’ properties. That includes the rights to the TC enzyme production technique. The enzyme was developed completely independently of any World Life work requests or orders, so the rights to it belong entirely to her. Hold on, Crawley, I'm not finished.”

  She paused while the U.N. team urged Crawley to silence. Then she said, “Zed and Lehua Pukui had planned to keep the basic economic rights to the TC compound, but to widely distribute the formula for its production. They did not wish for it to fall solely into the hands of one monopolistic group.”

  “The Company—”

  “Has no say in this matter, Crawley,” the warden said. “The distribution is entirely up to Pua.”

  “She's a minor,” Crawley said. He was so angry that the scars on his cheek stood out clearly. “Her holdings and her care fall under the administration of World Life Company until she reaches her majority. Toma, tell her that's true. Pua can't even legally stay on Lesaat without family. She's going to have to leave.”

  “The Company has appointed me as her legal guardian for the duration of my stay on Lesaat,” the warden said. “You drew up and legalized that contract yourself. And pulled a few strings to get it done, I believe. You claimed it was a humanitarian gesture at the time. Are you saying that there were other motives for returning the girl here?”

  A low buzz shivered through the cave, a mechanical buzz that cut right through the murmured questions and comments that followed the warden's remark. Crawley glared.

  “That's the air-intrusion alert,” Toma said. He touched his right shoulder and glanced at the warden. “It's my—your flit.”

  “If someone's flying, the storm must be letting up,” one of the Earthers said hopefully.

  “Why would Ehu be coming back now?” the warden asked.

  “She wouldn't,” Toma said. “Not unless something else has gone wrong.” He knelt before Fatu. “Permission to question, Warden?”

  “Granted.”

  It grew very still inside the cave again, except for the alarm and the continued roar of the storm outside, which continued to shout its mighty song. Pua could hear Le Fe'e's rumbling call and ached to answer. Soon, she promised. I'll come soon.

  “Fatu,” Toma said. “Do you have a private comm here in the cave?”

  “Yes.” A soft, reluctant reply.

  “Where is it?”

  “Behind the green mold and beyond the spirit of Le Fe'e's small kin, in the second deep crevice on the mountain side.”

  One of Crawley's waterguards moved instantly in that direction. “Don't let him find it!” Pua cried. Toma waved her back and followed the guard himself, without hurrying. He had not yet passed the first turn when a shrill scream echoed through the cave.

  The ghosts! Pua threw herself into Fatu's lap and covered her eyes and ears. Fatu's strong arms closed around her.

  She had known they would come. She had known they couldn't bring all these people into this cave and not have the ghosts come. “Come on, Fatu,” she whispered. “Let's get out of here. Keep your eyes closed so you don't see them.”

  Someone touched her, and she almost screamed herself. But it was just the warden's hand. Pua opened her eyes long enough to be sure. The waterguard who had gone after the comm screamed and screamed.

  “Sit tight for a minute,” the warden said. She peeled the patch from Fatu's neck and cracked an inhalant vial under his nose. “Deep breaths,” she said. She held the vial steady while she watched the back of the cave. Cautiously, Pua followed her look.

  The Earther stumbled into view. He was scratching and tearing at his face and hands. The other Earthers backed rapidly away.

  “Somebody bring me what's left of the loli,” Toma called. When the bowl was passed to him, he thrust it at the squirming, shrieking waterguard. Pua could see now that the Earther's skin was covered with tiny, wriggling grubs.

  Mold maggots! She watched, fascinated, horrified, as Toma convinced the man to plunge his hands into the loli and then to smear the thick paste on his face and neck. At the touch of the sea cucumber, the phosphorescent maggots began to fall away. Land and water things didn't always mix. Pua understood that, but she had not known that loli would scare moldies away so easily. Toma and Dave Chan used clicker fronds to brush the still-wriggling maggots into a pile.

  When the last of them had released its hold on the Earther's skin, and the man sat moaning and crying against the wet stone wall, Chan scooped the maggots onto a broad leaf and carried them back into the recesses of the cave. When he returned, he was carrying a woven basket containing Fatu's private comm.

  “I warned you before we got here,” Toma said, staring around at them all. “Don't touch anything until a waterworlder has told you it's safe.” Several of the Earthers moved farther away from the walls. Toma knelt at the injured guard's side. “This fellow crawled right into a mold maggot's nest. He'll live, but his swimming days are over, from the looks of those gill edges.”

  Pua pressed her face against Fatu's broad chest.

  “That was deliberate!” Crawley said. “That was a deliberately set trap.”

  “Fatu warned us that the comm w
as protected,” Toma said.

  “By a spirit!” Crawley shouted. “That's superstitious nonsense!”

  “From the looks of your well-chewed guard, Crawley, that protective spirit did its job very well,” Toma said. “Let me remind all of you again that we are still on private property. Fatu and whatever physical or spiritual entities he chooses to employ have every right to set as many protective traps as they wish.”

  “Just who are you working for, Toma?” Crawley demanded.

  Fatu stirred. “Are you okay?” Pua asked quickly. The warden was still with them, touching them both, but watching Toma and Crawley.

  “I'm doing the job you pay me to do, Mr. Crawley,” Toma said calmly. “Trying to keep the Company on the right side of the law.”

  “You're in on all this, aren't you? I knew—”

  Fatu blinked and shook his head. “Is it finished?”

  “Yes,” the warden said. “How many of me do you see?”

  He looked at her. “Too many.” She smiled and squeezed his shoulder. “You did fine, Fatu.”

  “What have you done, Warden?” It was the U.N. team leader, Crawley's man. “Why did you bring him out of it? We hadn't finished questioning him.”

  “I had,” the warden said. She lifted a hand. “Fatu agreed before you got here to speak freely of the children of Lesaat and the situation here at Pukui. He doesn't need to be drugged to continue the discussion.”

  “But—”

  “What proof do we have that these—waterchildren—actually exist, Warden?” another of the Earthers asked. It was one who had remained quiet throughout, one whom Fatu had told Pua earlier he had never seen before. Pua wasn't sure whether that meant they should trust him more or less than the others.

  “It's one thing to claim special status for an individual,” the man said, nodding at Pua, “and quite another to claim it for an entire group. We would have to know exactly what we were dealing with before any decisions could be made.”