“I am saving lives,” said Lynn in a tightly controlled voice. She stayed where she was, and Arron found he had to step back from her.
“You're running lives, Lynn!” He paced around the comm station chair. “You wouldn't even tell Praeis what you're doing!”
“Of course I didn't tell her! I…”
“You what?” asked Arron softly. “You didn't want her to know how far it's gone?” He grabbed the back of the chair with both hands. “You didn't want her to tell some of her sisters what was going on in case they'd rebel against you?” Her eyes glowed dangerously. Arron leaned toward her. Don't you see it, Lynn? Listen to me, I'm just trying to make you see! “They scared you, Lynn, admit it. You found a situation you couldn't manage, and you got scared. Now you're determined to make the whole planet behave like you want, so you don't have to be afraid of it anymore.”
“If we don't do something, they are all going to die,” she said, enunciating each word carefully. “I am not going to kill them. Are you? Are you going to say they're all better off dead?”
“No, of course not.” Arron ran both hands across his stubbly scalp. Why can't you hear me? “All I am saying, all I have ever said, is that they need to make their own decisions!”
“They did, Arron!” Lynn slammed her hand down on the comm-station keyboard. “They decided to bring us here!”
“But not for this!” He flung out both hands.
Lynn's teeth bared, just like a Dedelphi's. “Yes, for this! Exactly for this! They asked us to save them, and we're going to!”
Arron leaned over the chair. “Lynn, the corp isn't interested in saving them. The corp is interested in—”
“Spare me, Arron.” Lynn held up both hands and waved him back. “They're not dealing with the corp now. They're dealing with me.”
Arron stared, stunned. She believed it. She really believed Bioverse had just stepped aside and left everything in her hands.
“Well”—he swallowed hard—”I guess it's all right then.”
“No, it isn't.” She shook her head. Her shoulders slumped. For a moment, Arron saw how tired she was, but she rallied and pulled herself up straight again. “It's not all right, but it will be. Don't try to call them again, Arron. Things are too… delicate. We just can't let you in there; we don't know what will happen.”
She left. The door swished shut behind her. Arron stayed where he was, wondering what else he could have said, what else he could have done. Was she really too far gone for him to reach anymore? Had she been that badly scared?
Had he really lost her, too?
Lareet woke to the sound of sisters screaming.
She shot bolt upright on the mattress. Umat was already at the window. Around them, dayisen, trindt and irat sat up and twisted their ears around, trying to make sense of the sound.
“What is it?” asked Lareet. As she spoke, a thick smell reached her. It was like mildew and rotting fungus. Her nostrils pinched themselves closed.
“Something's happened to the river.” Umat ran for the stairs.
Lareet jumped up and snatched a tunic from off the clothes chest as she pelted after her sister. She shrugged into it somewhere between the foot of the stairs and the open door and headed across the lawn to stand beside Umat.
Naked as a fisher in the rain, Umat dug her toes into the grassy riverbank near a cluster of sisters. The dawn was just starting, and the dome was turning light blue, but there was already plenty of light by which to see what had happened.
The river, the beautiful, clear, sparkling river, was now thick with brown sludge. It bubbled and swirled like the worst contents of an open sewer. It was the source of the smell that permeated the air. Dead fish rocked on the surface like toy boats.
Umat stared. Her mouth opened, but it was a moment before any sound could come out. “Mother Night,” she whispered. Then, she collected herself. “Ovrth Ond, Ovrth Brindt, get to the command center, tell them to get a team down to the water recyclers immediately to try to find out what's happened. Trindt Mnat, take some sisters and see if all the tap water is the same way.”
Something brushed Lareet's shoulder. She swatted at it angrily. A yellow leaf drifted down to the grass under her feet.
Yellow? She looked up. Another leaf swirled down from the tree she stood under. The strengthening light showed her that the green foliage was heavily speckled with unhealthy yellow blotches. Small drifts of dead leaves lay piled on the grass. Lareet looked closer. The grass was yellowing, too. In places, pale, blobby mushrooms studded the ground.
“Umat”—she straightened up—“we will need to check the gardens as well.”