They give their lives for this, she thought. They are either very foolish or very noble.
Several parts of the grounds were in flames and a work crew, covered by sentries, was busy fighting the fires. Lewis beckoned her from the plaz verandah at Oakes' quarters and it was only then that she noticed the scorchmarks across the dome of her shuttle.
She opened her hatch and stepped out between two sentries who escorted her along the covered way to the Redoubt. There was a strong taint of chlorine lingering over everything.
At least we don't have to worry about Runners, she thought.
Over the chlorine she caught the sea-smell from the beach, and saw that the tideline had moved down several meters from its usual mark. The damp sand left behind was warmed by the suns. A heavy mist rose from it, dissipating in wisps over the rocks and the sea. She did not look at Lewis until she stepped up to the verandah.
"Legata," he offered his hand, "how are you?"
The searching expression in his eyes told her all that she needed to know.
So that's why I'm here, she thought. He wants to explore my curren.... utility before Oakes arrives.
"Quite well," she said, "that was a wonderful display the hylighters put on. Did you arrange it just for me?"
"If I'd arranged it, it wouldn't have cost us damage we can't afford."
He led her inside and closed the hatch behind them.
"How much damage?"
He was leading her further inside, away from the plaz. She wanted to see the grounds, the repairs.
"Not irreparable. Would you care for something to eat?"
A woman with large, fanlike ears walked past them, accompanied by a normal crewman carrying a lasgun.
"No, thank you, I'm not hungry."
At Legata's response, the woman turned, looked her full into the eyes as if she wanted to say something, then turned quickly and went outside. Legata remembered that a rallying cry of the clone revolt had been I'm hungry now! and she was embarrassed.
"Those ear.... why?"
"She can hear a Hooded Dasher at a hundred meters. That gives us a full second's advantage. Attractive, too, don't you think?"
"Yes," Legata said coldly, "quite."
She noticed that Lewis was still limping, but she did not sympathize with him. Although she was curious about details of the revolt, she didn't ask. She countered by not dropping the subject.
"How reparable is 'not irreparable'?"
Lewis dropped his cordiality and assumed his usual businesslike air.
"We lost most of our clone work force. Fewer than half of those remaining are effective. We're getting replacements from Colony and the ship, but that's slow work. Two of the finished hangars are badly damaged - hatches missing, holes in the walls. The clones' quarters have their exterior walls and hatches intact, but the interiors are completely useless. Serves 'em right. Let 'em sleep on the piles of plaz."
"What about this building?"
"Took some damage back where the clones' quarters join with the storage area. They got into the kitchen but that's where we sealed them of...."
"You sealed them off?"
Lewis glanced away from her, then back. He rubbed his nose with his finger and she was reminded of Oakes when he was nervous. When it became obvious that he wouldn't answer, she nodded.
"After you discovered chlorine killed the Runners, how long before you released it among the people you had sealed off?"
"Now, Legata, you weren't here. You didn't see what they wer...."
"How long?"
He looked her in the eyes, but did not answer.
"So, you killed them."
"Runners killed them."
"But you could've killed the Runners."
"Then the clones would've gotten inside and killed us. You weren't here. You don't know what it was like."
"Yes, I think I do. Show me to Morgan's Garden."
It took all of her nerve just to say that word. Whatever that horror she had confronted at Colony, the name of The Garden would not be shaken off, even though she could not remember. But she saw it made Lewis uneasy to think about it and she would be damned if she would ease anything for him.
Lewis was obviously shaken by the sudden reference to The Garden. It meant Scream Room to him, too. She could see the questions forming behind his eyes: How much does she know? Why isn't she afraid? She refused to allow herself the luxury of fear. Let him see that much. Until she herself remembered what had happened, she would not allow anyone else to capitalize on her experience there.
"Yes," he said, his voice almost hushed, "of course. The Garden. You can relax there until Morgan comes. This way."
Lewis led Legata through the finished parts of the resort and into the main dwelling, a mammoth structure carved entirely out of the mottled stone of the mountainside and lined with plasteel. She turned at the entry way and looked back over the grounds and out across the sea.
"This hatchway opens to Morgan's quarters. The study, library and cubby are all in this unit. Further back are the meeting and dining areas, all of that. I'll take you through them if you like."
She watched the pulse of waves explode against the seawall ahead of them and imagined she could hear the slap and crash of the water through the insulating plaz.
"Legata?"
"Yes. I mean, no, you don't have to guide me. I'd like to be alone."
"Very well." Lewis spoke abruptly, "Morgan said that you are to be comfortable. I suggest you check with me before wandering around. You may need a sentry for some of the more exposed areas. It's still early and I'm not due back at Colony until after midmeal. Call if you need me."
With that, the hatch hissed shut and she was alone.
Once more, she looked at the sea. It tumbled away forever, drawing her consciousness outward, reaching.
There's a power here that even Morgan can't buy, she thought, and fought back the temptation to run past the plazzed-in trees, the flowers, and the pond, past the stream meandering through the grasses, past the protection of the compound itself and into the wild sea air of Pandora. Then she noticed the kelp. The great masses of it which had glutted the beaches and the bay outside the Redoubt were reduced to a few isolated clumps and some long, serpentine tendrils undulating at the Surface. Lewis' doing! A sudden sadness filled her eyes with tears and she whispered aloud to the kelp, "I hope they're wrong. I hope you make it."
She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to see two clones working on the tower at the shuttle station.
Morgan's expected in, she thought, they'll want things looking as controlled as possible.
She looked closer at the two men, her attention caught by the fact that they were lifting and welding plaz that was at least four meters off the ground - and neither was using scaffolding.
Those arm....
She wondered, coldly, where those workers fit within the clone index and price list.
"Cost is no object, my dear," Murdoch had said, and something in his inflection had terrified her. This terror was rekindled by the sight of the two workers busily welding plaz.
Anything went, she thought, my every fantasy was possible.
Why can't I remember?
Whatever horrors or pleasures took place in the Scream Room were no longer a part of her consciousness. There were flashes, uncontrollable and swift, that struck her mute in mid-conversation or mid-thought. Those who worked with her attributed it to a growing absentmindedness, an offshoot of her apparent love affair with The Boss.