If Kahvi had seen that plant she would have left the island at once; she would have realized that it was not a safe hiding place. The thing itself was not dangerous to human biochemistry, but its presence would have told her the Hillers would be around. The Evolution plant never grew wild; it needed too much attention. It was completely symbiotic with the present human culture. But Kahvi never saw it. She didn’t have time after waking up.
It was midafternoon when Danna was awakened by the sounds of people crashing through the jungle. Her reaction was the right one; she squeezed her mother’s bare shoulder with one hand, and laid a finger of the other over Kahvi’s mask where it covered the mouth. The woman was awake almost at once, and immediately grasped the situation. Nodding approval at the child, she rose cautiously and peered through the bushes in the direction of the sound.
This was from the west, the nearest mainland, rather than the south from which the fugitives had come. It seemed possible to escape back toward the water, but at first she considered the chances of getting submerged unseen to be too small to be worth taking. The alternative, however, was to keep hidden in the jungle; and neither of them could be sure of moving around quietly enough for that to be practical policy. There was no way to conceal the nest, and even if these people were not already hunting for the fugitives, they would be once that was seen. If that did occur, it behooved Kahvi and her child to be well away from the site, preferably with a broad choice of travel plans.
So the water was the best bet after all. Again warning Danna to silence, Kahvi led the way slowly and carefully back along the path they had made earlier. Behind them, voices and snapping branches grew louder — the Hillers were certainly not being subtle about their doings. It was tempting to go faster and get under water as soon as they possibly could, but the woman knew that a splash would be easy for the Hillers to distinguish among their own noises. She held herself to the slow pace, and Danna, frightened as she was, stayed with her.
When the water was hip-deep on the child, they stopped and readjusted their burdens so as to give the little one a free hand with which to hold her mother’s harness. Then the woman lowered herself slowly and carefully until she was as nearly submerged as possible, crawled until the water was a little deeper, and finally began to swim. Within a few meters they were both submerged, and Kahvi could relax a little.
She was heading back toward the raft; there was nothing else to do, though she had planned to wait until dark. A trip to the north around the peninsula to reach some of the west side jails would be possible, but risky given limited air and the child. If they could get back home without having to risk discovery by surfacing they would have more resources and a chance to think.
Presumably they would also have warning of the approach of another search party. Finding such a goal under water would not be easy, but they could spend hours in the search if necessary. The sun was well up and would provide directional guidance, and the water depth would mean something. Kahvi was in no sense a professional diver, but in the earth’s present condition the difference between air and water was more one of seeing than of breathing: Danna thought of underwater as the part of outdoors where it was hard to see.
The biggest problem was judging attained distance, but Kahvi felt sure that if they did not get too far out they should encounter raft or anchors easily enough. The gesture language was specific enough to let her tell Danna the plan, and presently she allowed the child to let go and swim separately a few meters to her right to help in the search. She could be trusted not to show herself above the surface.
It was in fact the child who encountered an anchor line. She grasped it and waved eagerly to hermother. Kahvi responded, swam over, and led the way along the cord to the raft itself. Leaving Danna huddled on the bottom in the shadow of the floats, the woman cautiously approached the entrance, placed her feet on the bottom, and slowly stood up.
Nobody could be seen inside the tent. The floats were bobbing in a heavy swell, and she could not tell by their heights whether any of them concealed extra weight. Finally, still unsure, she climbed cautiously up into the tent. Keeping her head below the general level of the air and food plants, she crawled slowly around among their trays checking the whole interior of the structure.
Finally sure that there was no one else inside, she lifted her head slowly to see whether anyone was in sight on or toward the shore.
There was, rather closer than she had expected. The head and very broad shoulders of a man seated at the shoreward end of the raft caught her eye and prevented her from rising far enough to see the rest of him. He was looking to his right, toward Sayre, at the moment. Kahvi felt an internal fluttering which might have been the baby but was probably her own nervous system readjusting. How could this fellow have failed to see the fugitives when they entered the water at the island? How had she failed to see him?
The distance was only two hundred meters. Of course her own attention had been focused in the opposite direction, and maybe Hiller mask windows were even worse than those she was used to. Still…
Why was he outside? It would have been smarter to hide in the tent if he wanted to intercept Earrin or Kahvi. Had he been inside? If so, he must know about Danna, whose toys and spare outdoor harness could not be mistaken for anything but what they were. Perhaps he had been inside, made the discovery, and decided to wait on the deck so that the Fyns might not guess what he had learned.
There was no point in theorizing or guessing; long association with Bones had made the woman almost as impatient with speculation as the Observer. The important thing was for her and Danna to get away again unobserved. This meant a long underwater journey — the trip around the peninsula would have to be risked now. Going south was pointless; the shore curved cast, and they would be in view wherever they emerged for several kilometers unless they happened to find some small creek. That would be asking for too much from luck.
Should they take more supplies? No. There were no more charged air cartridges, and they already had food to last as long as their air. Besides, crawling about the tent picking meat and drink pods from the plants would be asking for the attention of the guard.
As she reached this conclusion, Kahvi saw the fellow suddenly lean forward. She tensed; was he about to leave the raft? Or come inside? Then the anxiety was replaced by a mixture of relief and sympathy. The fellow was actually removing his mask, and his torso and shoulders were heaving unmistakably. Every few seconds he held his mask to his face — he was evidently not entirely out of control — but it was evident why he had not seen the fugitives and why it might even be safe to collect more food. The unfortunate fellow was seasick.
Firmly quelling the reflex urge to help — there should obviously be someone nearby to manage the mask if he did lose control — Kahvi eased back into the water. After all, if these Hiller oxygen junkies were such idiots as not to have one of their own people on hand — she stopped that thought firmly. She knew perfectly well that jobs had to be done and chances sometimes taken to do them.
This Hiller was doing his own job and taking his own chances; good breath to him. Still, her job was to take care of Danna and Earrin.
So she told herself as she swam back to the child, but she was uncomfortable about it. Not quite as uncomfortable as after she had lighted the fire, but queasy enough. Conflict-of-duty questions had been few for Kahvi Mikkonen since she had been a Nomad, and they bothered her. Maybe Earrin, when she found him or he got back to them, would be a help; he was the sort who could keep from worrying over things that couldn’t be mended. On the other hand, she might not be able to bring herself to tell him about the fire. He had been an understanding and tolerant teacher in the early months of her Nomad life — otherwise she would never have developed the affection for him which she had — but even he must have a limit somewhere, and lighting fires might be beyond it.