"The mother's the nearest available source," Hali said.
"The mother's the host and immune. The organism takes from other organisms around it which are, ahhh, similar to the hungry one."
"I'm not aging," Hali said. "And I'm around her more than anyone."
"It does that," Murdoch said. "It takes from some people and not from others."
"Why from children?" Hali asked.
"Because they're defenseless!" That was Andrit, fearful but still angry.
Waela felt energy charging every muscle in her body. "I'm not going groundside."
Andrit started to get to his feet, but Usija restrained him. "What are you going to do?" Usija asked.
"I'll move out to the Rim beyond one of the agraria. We'll keep people, especially children, away from me while Hali studies this condition." She looked at Hali, who nodded.
Murdoch did not want to accept this. "It would be far better if you came groundside where we've had experience wit...."
"Would you try to force me?"
"No, oh no."
"Perhaps if you sent us a supply of burst," Usija said.
"We would not be able to justify shipment of such a precious food at this time," Murdoch said.
"Tell us what you know about the phenomenon," Hali said. "Can we develop an immunity? Does it recur or is it chronic? Doe.... ?"
"This is the first time we've seen it outside a lab. We know that Waela TaoLini conceived outside the breeding program and outside Colony's protective barriers, bu...."
"Why don't I get answers from Colony?" Ferry asked. He had been sliding his chair slowly to one side while Murdoch spoke, and now he looked up at the man.
"That has nothing to do wit...."
"You speak of not shipping burst at this time" Ferry said. "What is special about this time?"
Waela heard desperation in the old man's voice. What is Ferry doing? Something deep in him was driving these questions out.
"Your questions do not relate to this problem," Murdoch said, and Waela heard death in his voice.
Ferry heard it, too, because he fell into abashed silence.
"What do you mean about the conception being outside of Colony's barriers?" Usija asked. It was the scientist's voice gnawing at an interesting question.
Murdoch appeared thankful for the interruption. "They were floating i.... . in a kind of plaz bubble. It was in the sea, completely surrounded by the kelp. We don't know all of the details, but some of our people have suggested that Waela and her child may no longer be humantype."
"Don't try to get me groundside!" Waela said.
Usija climbed to her feet. "Humans bred freely Earthside and anywhere they liked. We're merely seeing it happen agai.... plus an unknown which must be studied."
Murdoch directed his glare at her. "You sai...."
"I said you could ask her. She has made her decision. Her plan is a sensible one. Isolate her from children, put her under constant monitorin...."
Usija's voice droned on outlining specifics to implement Waela's decisio...place with a shiptit, a rotation of Natali med-tech....
Waela tuned out the droning voice. The babe was turning again. Waela felt dizzy.
None of this is normal. Nothing is as it should be.
Blip. The fear lifted in her awareness, then dropped.
What did Murdoch mean that she might no longer be humantype?
Waela tried to recall details of what had happened in the gondola as it floated on Pandora's sea. All she could remember was the ecstatic wash of her union with something awesome. This shipside command cubby, Usija's voice - none of this was important any longer. Only the baby growing at its terrible pace within her was important.
I need a shiptit.
An image of Ferry pressed itself into her awareness. He was somewhere else with his inevitable drink in his hand. Murdoch was talking to him. Ferry was trying to protest without success. She heard faint voices, distant and muffled as though they came from a sealed room. There was a high view of Pandora's sea glowing in the light of two suns. It was replaced by a blurred vision of Oakes and Legata Hamill. They were making love. Oakes lay on his back on a brown woven mat. She was astride hi.... slow movemen.... very slo.... an insane look of joy on her face, her hands clenching and unclenching the fat of his chest. In the vision, Legata leaned back, trembling and Oakes caught her as she fell.
It's a dream, a strange waking dream, Waela told herself.
Now, the dream shifted to Hali on her knees in her own cubby. Atop a ledge in front of Hali stood an odd construction of wood - two smooth sticks, one of them fixed off-center across the other. Hali leaned her head close to the crossed sticks and, as she did this, Waela experienced the unmistakable fragrance of cedar, as fresh as anything she had ever smelled in a treedome.
Abruptly, she was back in the command cubby. Hali's arm was around her shoulder, leading her out the hatch while Usija and Brulagi argued with Murdoch behind them.
"You need food and rest," Hali said. "You've overstressed yourself."
"Shiptit," Waela whispered. "Ship will feed me."
The prophets of Israel who preached the idea of the nucleus of ten good men required for a city's survival, built this concept on the Talmudic idea of the Thirty-Six Just Ones whose existence in each generation is necessary for the survival of Humankind.
UNTIL SHE saw him sprint across the east plain, a Hooded Dasher close behind, Legata did not know Thomas was at the Redoubt. She stood at the giant screen in the Command Center, the hum of late dayside activity going on all around. Oakes and Lewis were conferring off to her left. The big screen had been set on a scan program, ready to lock onto any unusual activity. She took over the controls and zoomed in on the running man. The Dasher was only a few leaps behind him. The scene was outlined in the harsh cross-light of the evening suns.
"Morgan, look!"
Oakes rushed to her side, stared up at the screen.
"The fool," he muttered.
Thomas swerved abruptly to the left, made a desperate leap off a dangerously high rock onto the sand at the high tide mark. The Dasher leaped after him, misjudged and landed in a patch of dead kelp washed up by the surf. It immediately began gulping rags of kelp while Thomas ran off down the beach. Another Dasher appeared behind him then, dropping from a high rock, running as it landed. Thomas dodged around a boulder and sped off along the high tide mark. His boots kicked up globs of damp sand. There was no doubt that he heard the Dasher closing on him.
"He'll never make it, no one can," Oakes' trembling voice betrayed his nervousness.
Afraid he won't get away? Legata asked herself. Or afraid he will?