In the large barracks, the injured were laid on the lower bunk beds. Others claimed the remaining beds or sat on the floor in small groups. Four of the Toplanders were trembling, greyhaired old men; they lowered themselves slowly to one of the beds, not speaking, but clinging to each other. Two carried walking sticks, objects from another time, another civilization, with metal handles and carved shafts. The other Toplanders streamed in, men and women, some in night clothes Sorrel had only ever seen on the internet. Few were young. She began counting as they filed in and stopped at twenty-nine – more women than men. It was hard to believe that so few people had controlled the camp and terrorized a city.

The wind was rising. Several of the enslaved camp women stood guard against the walls, disbelief carved on their faces.

Sorrel sat with Bibi on one of the beds and they told their stories to each other in low voices. “Northerners are coming,” she told her mother. “The satellites are being disabled.”

Bibi nodded. “They’ll want the water here.” She shifted her position and groaned.

“What do you need? What can I do for you?”

“Nothing, One. Time is all I need.” She paused. “Did you find what you were looking for; with the Tribals, I mean?”

“Yes, I guess so,” she said. “But I wanted you to be there too. I mourned you, Mom. I mourned you.” The unfamiliar name hovered between them.

“I know, One. I know. I wanted to spare you.”

“I saw your message,” she said.

Bibi touched her face. “I had to hope you would be fine with the Tribals.”

Iris walked over to them. “I’m going to the kitchen. I think we all need food. Hazel says there are a lot of eggs. And at least six breadfruit for frying.”

“You have eggs?” Sorrel said.

“We re-domesticated some avians.”

“Do you think it can work?” Sorrel asked her mother, after Iris had left. “Toplanders and Lowlanders? Males and females living together?”

“A lot of things once seemed impossible,” said Bibi. “No one thought we could get the avians to lay eggs in cages. But we did. Lowlanders can’t imagine a place with old-time rain. We have it here.”

“Or berries and breadfruit,” Sorrel added.

“Or a world without satellites.”