Whirling on her heel, she stalked outside to her aircar, checked the charge out of habit—seeing it was up to ninety-two percent, which was about all the battery would take these days—and pulled the bottle of whiskey out from under the dash.

Back inside, Dek was setting the plates on the small table. He looked up, eyes widening at sight of the bottle. “Oh, my. Is that what I think it is?”

“One of Inga’s outstanding bourbons from last year.”

“This is a special treat indeed.” With a flourish, Dek produced two duraplast glasses. “The first fried fishsnake ever, augmented by broccoli, mint, and cabbage, toasted with bourbon.”

She seated herself, took a tentative bite of the fishsnake. “Oh, that is good. It’s a softer meat than crest or chamois. Not sure what to compare it to.”

“Be better with your red chili sauce,” he said, “I think it’s got the best texture on Donovan so far. Sort of reminds me of crab crossed with cod, having never had your gibnut for comparison.”

“So, how’s it going with the quetzal TriNA? You seem remarkably human today. Only seen a few of those disconnected looks.” She cut another piece and forked it into her mouth.

“I took your advice. When Demon starts to fool with my memories, I close my eyes, imagine myself falling . . . that slam of impact as I hit the water. Then I’m down, under the surface, bubbles gurgling around me. I experience the pounding roar, that huge weight of the water beating me down into the darkness, and I imagine myself drowning. Feel the cold water rushing into my lungs . . .” A pause as he closed his eyes. “And my brain clears. I can almost feel him cowering down in the middle of my head.”

“Middle of your head, huh? He hides behind my stomach most of the time. Funny where we imagine them inside us.”

“Flute’s starting to talk to me. At least, that’s how I categorize the voice. Must be a combination of all the other quetzal TriNAs, but definitely an opponent of Demon’s. And one equally terrified of drowning. Why is that?”

“Quetzals can’t hold their breath,” she told him. “Air in the mouth is piped through the lungs and out the vents behind. If they get in water over their heads, they drown. Period. Cheng thinks it’s one of the reasons we’re seeing vastly different TriNA haplotypes in quetzal populations. Rivers effectively isolate quetzal gene pools from each other. Quetzals might ford creeks and streams, but deep water makes an impenetrable barrier. Has implications for future settlement security when it comes to a lot of Donovanian wildlife.”

“You know, you really are remarkable.”

“How’s that?”