She jumped as a hand touched her shoulder, but it was only Trish. "Go on," she said quietly. "I'll watch things over here."
Jessica nodded her thanks, and hugged her friend. Was Trish her friend? God, what a thought. What was everything, what the hell did it all mean? Toshiro dead. Joe and Linda dead. Stu dead. Now Chaka and her father dead. Why? Because Aaron had wanted to...
No. She couldn't allow herself to stumble down that road. Aaron would have saved them, if he could. Aaron was sorriest of all about everything that had happened. Aaron would have died to save Cadmann, or Chaka. Hadn't he said so? Didn't she know it?
Then why did she want to die?
She covered her head and went out into the storm.
Upstream of the base camp, the beaver grendels were in a panic. The river had swelled to twice its ordinary flow, and it hammered at them, drove at their nests and dams with a ferocity they had never experienced . ...ut which something deep within them recognized.
Some knowing beyond their dim consciousness.
This is the time... this is the time...
So they fought to repair, and failed. And when the dams burst some were swept away and dashed against rocks. Others climbed blindly out of the ponds that had swollen to angry, storm-tossed lakes, seeking refuge from the tree trunks and jagged chunks of detritus that dashed them. Chunks of dams from their cousins farther north, chunks of their own dams. Blindly, they fought, but it was no use. And as the rains intensified, as the storms grew greater through the night and into the next day, the work that they and their ancestors had labored over for decades would be swept away as well.
Jessica found Justin in the mess hall, looking out of the window. Katya was at his side. Jessica felt a twinge, but there was nothing to be done. She had made her choice, long ago.
Katya pulled at Justin's arm as Jessica entered. He got up and kissed Katya's hand, crossed to Jessica, and hugged her.
God, it felt good. That hug was like physical nourishment. She just wanted to stay in his arms, and feel his heart beat against her, and feel that her entire life wasn't falling apart, that the tears streaming down her face would stop one day. That there was enough love in all the world to make everything right.
"Have you talked to Mary Ann?" he asked.
She shook her head. "I can't. Not yet. I talked with Mickey—he's the one who broke the news. I just can't talk about it over holo, Justin. I can't."
He nodded understanding. "I know. It was awful telling Sylvia. Jesus."
"How did she take it?"
"Well. They're busy up at the mine. There's a thousand things to do to get Robor lashed up and into the lee. It's safe—Dad made sure of that. It would be safe even against worse storm than this. But it keeps her busy, and I guess that that is a good idea."
She nodded, and backed away from him. She smelled coffee. "That smells good," she said.
"My manners."
God, how was he holding up so well? She knew how close he and Cadmann were. In some ways, terrible ways, closer than she had been.
Her heart broke again. Carlos brought her a cup of coffee, thrust it into her hands. "Your mothers, both of them, are very strong. If they weren't, they couldn't have survived this place. None of us could have. The weak did not make the trip. Those unsure of their strength took refuge in the HI."
Jessica stared. "Carlos? What does that mean?"
He shrugged. "Let's just say that I think HI was a convenient out for those who couldn't cope. Just work the garden. Raise children."
"Make sculptures?"
He smiled. "We all have our little refuges."
They paused, listening to the rain hammer against the walls, the ceiling. A steady, arrhythmic thrumming. According to Geographic, the first wave of rain would die away by morning. There would be peace, followed by more rain, in waves, for at least a week. And beyond that week, another storm front, and then yet another. They could wait it out. It was what they were here for.
"When the sky clears," Carlos said, "I'll take a skeeter up in the mountains. To the coordinates Aaron gave us. I will find your father's bones, I think." He sipped at his coffee. There was something in his eyes that she couldn't quite read. "His comm card was still broadcasting. I will find his bones. I believe that I owe your father that much."
Then he closed his eyes, and drank, and didn't say another word for the rest of the night.
The merciless torrent tore the beaver dams into splinters', and the rivers swelled, changed course, flooded across the plains. Flash floods and waterspouts raged, whirled, tore the sky ever more brutally, made it bleed.
The water roared across the plain, and sank down into the nests, the bee nests that the Star Born had seen, but not understood. There were thousands of them across the southern portion of the continent. Each was home to tens of thousands of bees.
There was chaos, and they responded by huddling, and then swarming up and out. The water beat them back. They collapsed their tunnel walls to seal them, and then retreated into their deepest tunnels.
And waited.
For months now, they had fed their special variety of speed—enhanced "royal jelly" to selected embryos within the nest. Now it began to pay off, and the first of the new queens were shaking the water from their motor wings.
Edgar sheltered his head against the rain, and walked out in the ankle—high mud, and sloshed across the encampment. The lights of the distant mess hall were dimmed by the intensity of the rain.
He caught sight of a small shape huddled in the downpour against the wall of one of the dorms. Without knowing entirely why, he headed in that direction.
It was Ruth, and when she saw him coming, she ran in the opposite direction, sloshing through the rain. It was probably impossible but he would have sworn he heard a sound through the downpour, a small, hopeless animal cry.
He caught up with her, happy for his newfound stamina—it was damned difficult to make headway through mud this deep.
He grabbed a shoulder and spun her around. The rain had streaked her hair across her face. Her eyes were wide and staring. She didn't seem to recognize him. He guided her into one of the storerooms.
She shivered. Her teeth clattered until he thought that she would crack the enamel.
"What's the matter with you?" he asked.
She looked at him, through him. And was silent.
She stopped shuddering. Her skin looked very fine to him. Almost porcelain. Almost translucent. She looked to so innocent. So lost.
"You're going to catch your death," he said.
"I don't care,'" she said. "I... just don't care." She sounded so lost, so helpless.
He sat her down on a barrel, peeled the cowl back from her head.
"What's the matter? Why don't you care?"
"I don't know what I'm doing here," she said.
He started to speak, then realized how hard it was for her to say even that much, and kept silent.
"I came for Aaron. I thought that maybe there was a way to be... with Aaron."
She lowered her face into her hands. "What am I doing? Why am I here?"
Aaron didn't want Ruth. Or anyone. All Aaron wanted was this continent.
"What you did," Edgar said finally, surprised to hear the words escape his lips, "was follow your heart. You had to try."
She looked up at him, and focused on him, as if she were seeing him for the first time. And then lowered her face into her hands, and began to sob. And finally, after a long time, he pulled a barrel next to her, and put his arm around her. She let him.