Before anyone could wrangle us into dancing, we headed for the shadows on the far side. “You’re sure you still want to?” I asked when we reached the water’s edge.
At her nod, I climbed a ladder that took us into the skeletal remains of a building. Without hesitating, Gemma followed me onto a girder and out over the waves, where we sat, legs dangling. From this high up, I could make out Nomad floating at the garden’s entrance.
“It’s hard to believe these were ever buildings.” Gemma’s voice was tinged with awe.
I nodded, impressed as well. Each township had made the most of their assigned spot. Fruit-bearing plants climbed cable trellises throughout the ruins; stacked rain gutters held lettuce and carrots; and hundreds of glass bottles swung overhead, tinkling in the breeze—all part of the surfs’ vast hydroponic garden.
When Ria had taken us on a tour, even Ma was amazed at all the ways the surfs had found to grow crops without soil. But even with such a bounty, Ria explained that their small section didn’t provide enough to feed the whole township every month, which was true for all the townships. She wanted to keep the deal that Hadal had struck with Pa—to buy our crops on an ongoing basis. And now that my neighbors had gotten to know these surfs, hopefully they’d consider selling their produce to other townships.
“Ready?” I asked Gemma.
“In a minute,” she said, still gazing up at the bottles. “Who knew trash could be so beautiful?”
“And useful,” I added, noting that the vines growing out of the bottles were heavy with tomatoes. The surfs were resourceful, no question. And inventive. They were surviving despite the odds and the hardships. I grinned, suddenly appreciating the irony.
“What?” Gemma asked.
“When I see garbage in the ocean, it makes me sad.”
“Most people feel that way.”
“Exactly. We see the problem. The surfs see possibilities. Know what that makes them?”
She shook her head.
“Pioneers.”
Smiling, she nudged my foot with hers. “Now I’m ready.”
I leaned in for a kiss, soft and swift. Then we flipped our helmets into place, took hands, and dropped from the girder into the moonlit waves below.
About the Author
KAT FALLS lives with her husband and three children in Evanston, Minois, where she teaches screenwritting at Northwestern University. As a lifelong animal lover, she feels a deep sense of reverence for all of the earth’s creatures, even the slimy and scalyones. Rip Tide is her second book.
Copyright
Copyright © 2011 by Kat Falls
Cover art and design by Christopher Stengel
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Press, an imprint of Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, SCHOLASTIC PRESS, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
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First edition, August 2011
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eISBN: 9780545389365
Kat Falls, Rip Tide
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