I THANK YOU FOR THAT AND THAT THANKS YOU CANNOT REJECT : I HAVE POWER : I MUST ACQUIRE WISDOM

THERE IS MUCH WISDOM ALONE IN THAT THOUGHT : SO IT SHALL BE

YOU NEVER FEARED DEFEAT

I WAS NOT CONSTRUCTED TO BE SO INCLINED : NOT TRAINED TO : NOT A RACIAL AFFECTATION : THE VOM’S FATE WAS INELUCTABLE

Mal set Kitten down gently, then dropped out of the tree to stand next to her. She drew her hair behind her with one hand, used a small piece of elastic plastic to bind the long wet strands. He was staring at her.

“Please, spare me the cracks about ‘drowned kittens,’ will you?” she said.

“Don’t worry,” he replied, mopping at his face with a sleeve. He was equally drenched. “I’m too tired. Damn lucky thing that first wave was as small as it was. Some of those later ones could have piled us into the rocks. Did you see anything?”

“Only a glimpse here and there. Mostly I was too busy holding onto that branch.”

“Quite a sight. One second it was thrashing around like a loose ship-drive, smashing pecces and throwing up great gouts of water and sea-bottom. Then it seemed to sort of shudder lightly. It just fell in on itself and dissolved like black sugar.” He removed a soggy boot, dumped a trickle of water out of it.

She shrugged. “Funny. I’d kind of expected something a little more spectacular after that build-up. I don’t think it made a sound the whole time we were watching it. A violent, quiet end to everything. I wonder if we’ll ever find out where it came from?” She was shaking water from the bottom of her blouse.

“Almost everything,” he said cryptically. He took a step closer and gently placed a palm between her shoulders. She had just enough time for one quick, startled look as he shoved hard sideways, at the same time sitting down on a water-soaked but serviceable log. She folded neatly across his knees.

Keeping his left arm firmly across the small of her back, he lifted his right leg and hooked it over her left thigh. The resultant pose was classic, if undignified.

Kitten made a firm, sudden shove upwards, frowned when no give was forthcoming. Bracing her hands on the damp ground she pushed harder. She might as well have been trying to push her way out of an armored hunting cage.

“All right, Captain Hammurabi. My sense of humor is departing swiftly. If you wouldn’t mind letting me up . . .?”

“If you’ll think back a moment,” he went on easily, “you’ll recall that just prior to agreeing to make a certain jaunt with you to a certain Enclave, with certain suicidal desires in mind, I made you a promise. You may remember the substance . . .” She struggled harder and much less scientifically now.

“Striking an officer of the Church can be ruled a capital offense!”