"Just the two of us," she said. "Stranded at the ass end of nowhere, all alone on a castaway ship. Very romantic, for however long we last. What are we going to do, Val?"
"We'll go down below and make wild love. We can have the big bunk tonight in Delagard's cabin."
"And after that?"
"We'll worry about after that after that," said Lawler.
9
He awoke just before dawn. Sundira was sleeping peacefully, her face as smooth and unworried as a child's. He slipped from the cabin and went up on deck. The sun was rising; the dazzling show of colours that the Face constantly emitted seemed more subdued this morning than it had been yesterday, far less flamboyant. He could still feel the pull of the Face tickling at the corners of his mind, but that was all it was just now, a tickle.
The figures of Lawler's former companions were moving about on shore.
He watched them. Even at this distance he was able easily to identify them: towering Kinverson and little Tharp, stocky Delagard, bandy-legged Felk. Father Quillan, nothing but bones and sinew. Gharkid, darker-skinned than the others and light as a wraith. And the three women, heavy-breasted Lis and sturdy square-shouldered Neyana and lithe handsome Pilya. What were they doing? Wading along the edge of the water? No, no, they were walking out into the bay, they were coming this way, they were returning to the ship. All of them. Easily, calmly, they were paddling through the shallow water toward the Queen of Hydros.
Lawler felt a tremor of fear. It was like a procession of the dead coming through the water toward him.
He went below and woke Sundira.
"They're coming back," he told her.
"What? Who are? Oh. Oh."
"The whole bunch of them. Swimming out to the ship."
She nodded, as though it were no great chore for her to take in the concept that the physical shells of their former shipmates were returning from the inconceivable entity that had devoured their souls. Perhaps she wasn't quite awake yet, Lawler thought. But she rose from the bunk and went up on deck with him. There were figures bobbing all around the ship now, just below the rail. Lawler peered down at them.
"What do you want?" he called.
"Throw down the rope ladder," the Kinverson-figure replied, in what was recognizably Kinverson's voice. "We're coming on board."
"My God," Lawler said, under his breath. He shot a horrified look at Sundira.
"Do it," she told him.
"But once they're up here-"
"What does it matter? If the Face wanted to turn its full voltage on us we'd probably be helpless before it anyway. If they want to come aboard, let them come. We don't have very much left to lose, do we?"
Shrugging, Lawler tossed down the ropes. Kinverson was the first to scramble aboard, then Delagard, Pilya, Tharp. The others followed. They were all naked. They stood in a quiet little group. There was no vitality to them; they seemed like sleepwalkers, like ghosts. They are ghosts, Lawler told himself.
"Well?" he said, finally.
"We're here to help you sail the ship," said Delagard.
Lawler was baffled by that. "Sail it? Where?"
"Back where you came from. You can't stay here, you realize. We'll take you to Grayvard so that you can ask for refuge."
Delagard's voice was flat and calm and his eyes were steady and clear, with none of their old manic gleam. Whoever or whatever this creature was, it was something other than the Nid Delagard Lawler had known for so many years. His inner demons were at rest. He had undergone a deep change-a kind of redemption, even. All his scheming was at an end, his soul seemed tranquil. So too with the others. They were at peace. They had surrendered to the Face, they had yielded up their individual selves, a thing which Lawler found incomprehensible; but he could not deny to himself that the returnees appeared to have found a happiness of some sort.
In a voice light as air Quillan said, "Before we leave, one last chance. Would you like to go to the island, doc? Sundira?"
"You know that we don't," Lawler said.
"It's up to you. But once you're back in Home Sea it won't be a simple thing to return here if you change your mind."
"I can live with that."
"Sundira?" Quillan said.
"Me too."
The priest smiled sadly. "It's your choice. But I wish I could make you see what a mistake it is. Do you understand why we were attacked so constantly all the time that we were at sea? Why the rammerhorns came, and the limpet, and the hagfish, and all the rest? Not because they're malevolent creatures. There aren't any malevolent creatures on Hydros. What they were trying to do was heal the world, that's all."
"Heal the world?" Lawler said.
"Cleanse it. Rid it of an impurity. To them-to every life-form of Hydros-the Earthmen who live here are invasive, extraneous beings, because they live outside the harmony that is the Face. They see us as viruses or bacteria that have invaded the body of a healthy organism. Attacking us was the equivalent of ridding the body of disease."
"Or cleaning grit out of a machine," Delagard said.
Lawler turned away, feeling anger and disgust rising in him.
Sundira said to him in a quiet voice, "How frightening they are. A bunch of ghosts. No, worse: zombies. We're lucky to have been strong enough to resist."
"Are we really?" Lawler asked.
Her eyes widened. "What do you mean by that?"
"I'm not sure. But they look so peaceful, Sundira. They may have changed into something alien, but at least they're at peace."
Her nostrils flared in contempt. "You want peace? Go on, then. It's only a short swim."
"No. No."
"Are you sure, Val?"
"Come here. Hold me."
"Val… Val…"
"I love you."
"I love you, Val." They embraced unselfconsciously, ignoring the returnees around them. She said, close to his ear, "I won't go across if you don't."
"I'm not going, don't worry."
"But if you do, we'll go together."
"What?"
"You think I want to be the only one on this ship who's still real, sailing with ten zombies? It's a deal, Val. Either we don't go at all or we go together."
"We don't go."
"But if we do-"
"Then it'll be together," Lawler said. "But we don't go."
* * *
As though nothing whatever out of the ordinary had happened at the Face of the Waters, the crew of the Queen of Hydros set about making preparations for the voyage back. Kinverson cast nets, and fish swam obligingly into them. Gharkid moved placidly through hip-deep water, gathering useful algae. Neyana, Pilya and Lis trekked back and forth between the island and the ship, carrying casks of fresh water that they filled from some spring on shore. Onyos Felk pondered his sea-charts. Dag Tharp tuned and tested his radio equipment. Delagard surveyed the rigging and sails, the rudder and the hull, and noted where repairs were needed, and he and Sundira and Lawler and even Father Quillan took care of what had to be done.
Very little was said. Everybody moved about their tasks as though part of some well-ordered machine. The returnees were gentle with the two who had not gone to the islands, treating them almost like troubled children who needed great tenderness; but Lawler felt no real contact with them.
Often Lawler stared in wonder and perplexity at the Face. The display of lights and colour coming from it was unending. Its constant berserk vigour fascinated him as much as it repelled him. He tried to imagine what it had been like for the others to be ashore, to move among those groves of live, sizzling strangenesses. But he knew that such speculations were dangerous. Now and again he felt a renewed pull, sometimes unexpectedly strong, from the island. In those moments the temptation was powerful. It would be so easy to slip over the side like the rest, swim quickly through the warm, welcoming waters of the bay, scramble up onto that alien shore-
But he was still able to resist. He had held the island off this long; he wasn't about to surrender to it now. Th
e work of preparation went on, and he stayed on board, as did Sundira, while the others freely came and went. It was a weird time, though not an unpleasant one. Life seemed suspended. In an odd way Lawler felt almost happy: he had survived, he had withstood every sort of adversity, he had been tempered in the forge of Hydros and was emerging all the stronger for it. He had come to love Sundira; he felt her love for him. These were new experiences for him. In whatever new life awaited him when the voyage was ended, he would be better able to cope with the uncertainties of his soul than before.
It was almost time to leave now.
It was late afternoon. Delagard had announced that departure would be at sunset. That they would be leaving the vicinity of the Face in the dark didn't seem to trouble him. The light of the Face itself would guide the ship for a time; and after that they could sail by the stars. There was nothing to fear from the sea, not any longer. The sea would be friendly now. Everything on Hydros would be friendly.
Lawler realized that he was alone on deck. Most or perhaps all of the others had gone to the island: to make a farewell visit, he supposed. But where was Sundira?
He called her name.
No answer. For one wild moment he wondered if she had gone with them. Then he caught sight of her at the stern, up on the gantry bridge. Kinverson was with her. They seemed deep in conversation.
Quietly Lawler moved down the deck toward them.
He heard Kinverson telling her, "You can't possibly understand what it's like until you've gone over yourself. It's as different from being an ordinary human as being alive is from being dead."
"I feel alive enough now."
"You don't know. You can't imagine it. Come with me now, Sundira. It takes only a moment. And then everything opens up for you. I'm not the same man I was, am I?"
"Not remotely."
"But I am. Only I'm so much more, besides. Come with me."
"Please, Gabe."
"You want to go. I know you do. You're staying only because of Lawler."
"I'm staying because of me," Sundira said.
"It isn't so. I know. You feel sorry for the pitiful bastard. You don't want to leave him behind."
"No, Gabe."
"You'll thank me afterward."
"No."
"Come with me."
"Gabe… please…"
There was a sudden doubtful note in her voice, a tone of weakening resolve, that struck Lawler with sledgehammer force. He jumped up on the gantry bridge next to them. Sundira gasped in surprise and backed away. Kinverson stood where he was, regarding Lawler calmly.
The gaffs were in their rack. Lawler grabbed one and held it out, practically in Kinverson's face.
"Leave her alone."
The big man eyed the sharp tool with amusement, or perhaps disdain. "I'm not doing anything to her, doc."
"You're trying to seduce her."
Kinverson laughed. "She don't need much seducing, do she, now?"
There was a roaring sound of fury in Lawler's ears. It was all he could do to hold back from thrusting the gaff into Kinverson's throat.
Sundira said, "Val, please, we were only talking."
"I heard what you were talking about. He's trying to get you to go to the Face. Isn't that so?"
"I don't deny that," Kinverson said easily.
Lawler brandished the gaff, conscious of how comic his anger must seem to Kinverson, how petulant, how foolish. Kinverson hulked above him, still menacing for all his newfound gentleness, invulnerable, invincible.
But Lawler had to see this through. In a tight voice he said, "I don't want you talking to her again before we sail."
Kinverson smiled amiably. "I wasn't trying to hurt her any."
"I know what you were trying to do. I won't let you."
"Shouldn't that be up to her, doc?"
Lawler glanced at Sundira. She said softly, "It's all right, Val. I can look after myself."
"Yes. Yes, of course."
"Give me that gaff, doc," Kinverson said. "You might hurt yourself with it."
"Keep back!"
"It's my gaff, you know. You got no business waving it around."
"Watch it," Lawler said. "Get away. Get off the ship! Go on: back to the Face. Go on, Gabe. You don't belong here. None of you do. This ship is for humans."
"Val," Sundira said.
Lawler gripped the gaff tightly, holding it as he would a scalpel, and took a step or two toward Kinverson. The fisherman's lumbering form rose high. Lawler drew a deep breath. "Go on," he said again. "Back to the Face. Jump, Gabe. Right here, right over the side."
"Doc, doc, doc-"
Lawler brought the gaff upward and forward in a short, hard thrust at Kinverson's diaphragm. It should have speared right into the big man's heart; but Kinverson's arm moved with unbelievable swiftness. His hand caught the shaft of the gaff and twisted, and pain shot the length of Lawler's arm. A moment later the gaff was in Kinverson's hand.
Automatically Lawler crossed his arms over his middle to protect himself against the thrust that he knew must be coming.
Kinverson studied him as if measuring him for it. Get it over with, damn you, Lawler thought. Now. Quickly. He could almost feel it already, the fiery intrusion, the tissues parting, the sharp point going for the heart within the cage of ribs.
But there was no thrust. Calmly Kinverson leaned forward and dropped the gaff back in the rack.
"You shouldn't mess with the equipment, doc," he said gently. "Excuse me, now. I'll leave you and the lady alone."
He turned and went past Lawler, down the gantry ladder, to the main deck.
"Did I look very stupid just then?" Lawler asked Sundira.
She smiled, very faintly. "He's always seemed a threat to you, hasn't he?"
"He was trying to talk you into going over. Is that a threat or isn't it?"
"If he had picked me up bodily and carried me over the side, that would have been a threat, Val."
"All right. All right."
"But I understand why you were upset. Even to the point of going after him with that gaff like that."
"It was dumb. It was an adolescent thing to do."
"Yes," she said. "It was."
Lawler hadn't expected her to agree so readily. He looked at her, startled, and saw something in her eyes that surprised and dismayed him even more.
There had been a change. There was a distance now between the two of them that hadn't been there for a long while.
"What is it, Sundira? What's happening?"
"Oh, Val… Val…"
"Tell me."
"It wasn't anything Kinverson said. I can't be talked into something as easily as that. It's entirely my own decision."
"What is? For Christ's sake, what are you talking about?"
"The Face."
"What?"
"Come over with me, Val."
It was like being pierced with Kinverson's gaff.
"Jesus." He took a step or two back from her. "Jesus, Sundira. What are you saying?"
"That we should go."
He watched her, feeling as though he would turn to stone.
"This is wrong, trying to resist it," she said. "We should have let ourselves yield to it, the way others did. They understood. We were blind."
"Sundira?"
"I saw it, everything in one flash, Val, while you were trying to protect me from Gabe. How foolish it is to try to maintain our individual selves, all our little fears and jealousies and petty games. How much better it would be to drop all that, and join ourselves into the one great harmony that exists here. With the others. With Hydros."
"No. No."
"This is our one chance to let all the shit that oppresses us fall away from us."
"I don't believe you're saying this, Sundira."
"But I am. I am."
"He hypnotized you, didn't he? He put a spell on you. It did."
"No," she said, smiling. She held out her hands to him. "You told me once that you had never felt at hom
e on Hydros, even though you were born here. Do you remember that, Val?"
"Well-"
"Do you? You said divers and meatfish feel at home here, but you don't and never have. You do remember: I see that you do. All right. Here's your chance to make yourself at home here, finally. To become a part of Hydros. Earth is gone. What we are is Hydrans, and Hydrans belong to the Face. You've held back long enough. So have I; but I'm giving in, now. Suddenly it all looks different to me, now. Will you come with me?"
"No! This is insanity, Sundira. What I'm going to do is take you belowdecks and tie you up until you come to your senses."
"Don't touch me," she said very quietly. "I tell you, Val, don't try to touch me." She looked toward the rack of gaffs.
"All right. I hear you."
"I'm going to go. What about you?"
"You know the answer to that."
"You promised that we'd go together, or not at all."
"Not at all, then, that's the deal."
"But I want to go, Val. I do."
Cold anger surged in him and congealed his spirit. He hadn't expected this final betrayal. Bitterly he said, "Then go, if you really mean it."
"Come with me?"
"No. No. No. No."
"You promised-"
"I'm going back on my promise, then," Lawler said. "I never meant to go. If I promised you that I'd go if you did, then I was lying to you. I'll never go."
"I'm sorry, Val."
"So am I."
He wanted again to seize her, to pull her belowdecks, to lash her down in his cabin until the ship was safely out to sea. But he knew that he could never do that. There was nothing he could do. Nothing.
"Go," he said. "Stop talking about it and do it. This is making me sick."
"Come with me?" she said yet again. "It'll be very quick."
"Never."
"All right, Val." She smiled sadly. "I love you, you know. Don't ever forget that. I'm asking you out of love, and if you won't to it, well, I'll still love you afterward. And I hope that you'll love me."
"How could I?"
"So long, Val. But I'll be seeing you later."
Lawler looked on, not believing it, as she clambered down the gantry ladder to the main deck, walked to the side, climbed over the rail, dived smoothly and expertly into the waiting sea. She began to swim toward shore, moving swiftly, vigorously, legs scissoring powerfully, arms cutting through the dark water. He watched her as he had watched her once before, a million years ago, swimming in the waters of Sorve Bay. But he turned away, unwilling to watch any longer, when she was still less than halfway to the shore. He went to his cabin and locked the door behind him and sat down on his bunk in the gathering darkness. This would be a good moment for some numbweed, a jug of it, a tub, drink it down in one great gulp, let it wash away all the pain. But of course none of it was left. So there was nothing he could do but sit quietly and wait for time to pass. What might have been hours went by, or years. After a while he heard Delagard's voice above, calling out the order to get the ship under way.