They had tried to be quiet. Felix couldn’t help but sense that tonight was different. Almost desperate, right up to the intensity of the sounds they tried so hard to stifle. Then their panting slowed, and the rustle of the blankets finally went still.

Desperate. Yes, he’d felt that way as he finally drifted off to sleep. Only to dream that wondrous dream.

Felix closed his eyes again, floating in the sea as the sunlight glowed blue and gleaming in the water around him. He had never floated, never been in water. But now he lived it, rocking, carried by the waves in a universe of movement.

His fingers tingled, and he extended his arms, reaching out for the sunlight on the water. As he did, his fingers expanded, growing slick, and when he could see them in the sunlight, they were slippery and green-blue and had become the algae.

And that was all right. If he turned into algae, he could float forever in the golden sunlight and remarkable blue waves . . .

33

Supper that night in the Pod cafeteria was subdued. Michaela struggled with shock and disbelief. Lara Sanz had been forty-three, with a PhD in crustal geology. Her expertise had been in seismology, hydrophonics, and mapping. She had only begun to collect data from the few buoys that had been deployed. Her work would have provided the overview, the framework into which the rest of the Maritime Unit’s research would fit.

Lara had always sat at the back table with Dik Dharman. They’d never officially married, but during the last couple of years in Ashanti, the two had formed a monogamous bond. Now Lara’s chair next to Dik was achingly empty. The man looked on the verge of emotional collapse, his face working, hands knotting and twisting his coveralls. His eyes puffed out, red and swollen from weeping.

Who could blame him? They were all reeling. Michaela might have allowed herself to topple into the endless pool of grief but for the hard-blue stare in Kalico Aguila’s eyes.

What the hell was the woman made of, anyway? Sialon? But that look in her eyes couldn’t be mistaken, it practically screamed, Don’t you dare.

Jym Odinga, the ichthyologist, had been sobbing off and on through the meal. For a while, back in the early years aboard Ashanti, he and Lara had cohabited in their upper bunk in the rear of the Maritime quarters. Maybe he’d never fully gotten over his fondness for Lara, even though he’d moved on to the curious relationship he had with Casey Stoner and Tobi Ruto.

First Shinwua and now Lara Sanz. Both without warning.