She considered that. "What can you tell me?"
"Tides. You're not used to tides. I am, and so are these copsik runners. If you—"
Her smile was twisted. 'Put you in charge of our own warriors?"
"Not what I meant. Attack the middle of the tree. Make them come to us there. I saw them fighting in free-fall, and you're better."
"We thought of that—" She saw his grimace. "No, don't stop. I'm glad you agree. We've watched London Tree for decades now, and two of us did escape once. We know that the copsiks live in the inner tuft, but the carrier is kept at the center of the tree. Should we go after that first?"
Science at the level of the carrier, the flying box, made Clave uneasy. He tried to set the feeling aside…"I saw how they use that thing.
They put their own warriors where they want them and leave yours floundering in air. Yes. Get the carrier first, even if you can't fly it."
"All right."
"Sharman, I don't know how you plan to attack. If you'll tell me more, I can give you better answers." He'd said it before. It was like talking to the tree.
Kara freed her grapnel with a snap of the snag line. She was moving on. Theefodder! Clave added, "One thing. If I know the Grad, he knows how to fly the carrier by now, if be's had any kind of a chance at it. Or
Gavving might have seen something and told the Grad."
"There's no way we'll learn that."
Clave shrugged.
"We'll go for the carrier and try for the Grad."
Clave pushed a dead spine branch into the coals and resumed flapping his blanket.
Kara said, "You call yourself Sharman…Chairman of a destroyed people. I trust you know how to be a leader. If you learn things thatshouldnotbeknown toourenemies…if you rideto warinthe first gust of warriors…what would you tell my citizens, if you were me?"
That was clear enough. "Clave must not live to be captured and questioned.' Sharman, I have little to lose. If I can't rescue my people, I'll kill copsik runners!"
"Merril?"
"She'll fight with me. Not under tides, though. And…don't tell her anything. I won't kill Merril if she's captured."
"Fair enough. You called the funnel a 'treemouth'—"
"I was wrong, wasn't I? The jungle can't feed itself that way. There's not enough wind. What is it?"
"It's what makes the jungle move. The petals are part of it too. Whatever side of the jungle is most dry, there the funnel wants to face. The petals reflect sunlight to swing the jungle round in that direction."
"You talk like the jungle is a whole creature, that thinks."
She smiled. "It's not very smart. We're fooling it now. The fires are to make the jungle dry on one side."
"There are tens of life forms in the jungle. One of them is a kind of spine for the whole thing. Its life is deep down, and it lives off the dead stuff that drifts toward the center. Everything in the jungle contributes something. The foliage is various plants that root in what the jungle-heart collects, but they rot and feed the jungle-heart and shield the jungle-heart if something big hits the jungle. We do our part too. We transport fertilizer down — dead leaves and garbage and our own dead-and we kill burrowing parasites."
"How does a jungle move? The Grad didn't know."
"The silver petals turn the jungle to put the funnel where the jungle is most dry. If everything gets too dry, then the funnel spits hot steam."
"Clave, it's time to put the fires out. I must tell the others. I'll be back."
Minya followed Dloris through twisting, branching tunnels. Minya's grip on Jinny's arm was relaxed; it would tighten if Jinny tried anything foolish. But the treemouth, and any chance to leap into the sky, were farther away with every step.
The way the tunnels twisted, Minya wasn't sure where she was. Near the midbranch, she thought; and the tuft would be narrowing toward the fin. She couldn't see solid wood, but from the way the spine branches pointed, the branch was below and to her left. Earlier she had passed a branching tunnel and heard children's laughter and the shouting of frustrated adults: the schools. She could find this place again.
The mouth of a woven hut showed ahead. Dloris stopped. "Minya. If anyone asks…you and Jinny both think you're pregnant. So the Scientist's Apprentice will examine you both. Jinny, I'll take you to your sister, and what happens then is none of my business."
They had reached the hut. Dloris shooed them in. Two men waited inside, one in Navy blue, the other—"Who are you?" Dioris demanded.
"Madam Supervisor? I'm Jeffer, the Scientist's Apprentice…other apprentice. Lawri is otherwise engaged."
To meet both Minya and Jinny was more than the Grad had hoped for.
He introduced his Navy escort to the women; Ordon was clearly interested. Ordon and Dloris stayed while the Grad questioned Jinny. She couldn't be pregnant, the timing was wrong, and he told her so. She and Dloris nodded as if they'd expected that and departed the hut through the back.
He asked Minya the appropriate questions. She hadn't menstruated since a dozen sleeps before Dalton-Quinn Tree caine apart. He told the Navy man, "I'm going to have to examine her."
Ordon took the hint. "I'll be right outside."
The Grad explained what was needed. Minya stepped out of her poncho's lower loop, lifted it and lay down on the table. The Grad palped her abdomen and her breasts. He tested the secretions of her vagina in plant juices Kiance had shown him how to use. He'd practiced such an examination in Quinn Tuft, with the Scientist supervising, as part of his training. Once.
"No problem. A normal pregnancy," he said. "It's anyone's guess when it happened."
Minya sighed. "All right. Dioris said so too. At least it gives me a chance to see you. Could it be Gavving's?"
"The timing's right, but…you've been available to the citizens, haven't you?"
"Minya, shall I tell Gavving it's his?"
"Let me think." Minya ran faces past her memory. Some were blurs, and she liked it that way. Did they resemble Gavving at all? But the arrogant dwarf had claimed two of her sleeptimes—"No. What's the truth? You don't know?"
"That's right."
"Tell him that. We'll just have to see what the child looks like."
"All right."
Jinny and Dloris had gone down to the pregnant women's complex, a good, safe distance away. Luckily the Grad's guard was male. A woman might not have given them privacy during the examination. With her poncho hiked up and her legs apart, Minya said, "Stay where you are in case Ordon peeks in. Grad, is there any chance of getting us out of here?"
Keeping his head clear wasn't easy under the circumstances, but he made the effort. "Don't move without me. I mean it. We can't do anything unless we can stop them using the carm."
"I wasn't sure you were still with us."
"With you?" He was startled…though he had had doubts. There was so much to learn here! But what was it like for the others, for Gavving or Minya? "Of course I want to break us free! But no matter what we do, they can stop us while they've got the carm. And have you seen a dwarf around?" Like Harp, he thought, but Minya hadn't known Harp.
"I know him. Mark. Acts like he's three meters tall, but he's less than two. Thick-bodied, lots of muscles, likes to show them off." Bruises healing on her arms helped her to remember.
"He's important. He's the only one who can use the old armor."
"We'd like him to meet with an accident?"
"If it's convenient. Don't do anything till we're ready to move."
She laughed suddenly. "I admire your coolness."
"Really? Look down."
She looked, and blushed and covered her mouth. "How long-?"
"Ever since you pulled up your poncho. I'm going to have a serious case of lover's plaint."