I climbed to my feet and broke into a run. I covered about ten meters before the ground shifted, slamming me down. I got up, took three steps, twisted an ankle, fell again. There was a constant tortured cracking sound filling my head now, conducted through my body from reef-rock to bone, resonating from living mineral to living mineral – the underworld reaching up to me, sharing its disintegration.

I started crawling forward on my hands and knees, screaming wordlessly, almost paralyzed by a vision of the ocean rushing over the sinking reefs, sweeping up bodies, propelling them inland, dashing them against the splintering ground. I glanced back and saw nothing but the placid tent village, still uselessly intact – but the whole island was roaring in my skull, the deluge could only be minutes away.

I stood again, ran for whole seconds despite the swaying stars, then landed heavily, splitting my stitches. Warm blood soaked the bandages. I rested, covering my ears, daring to wonder for the first time if it would be better to stop and wait to die. How far was I from the guyot? How far would the ocean reach in, even if I made it to solid ground? I groped at my notepad pocket, as if I could get a GPS fix, check a few maps, come to some kind of decision. I rolled onto my back and started laughing. The stars jittered into time-lapse trails.

I stood up, glanced over my shoulder – and saw someone running across the rock behind me. I dropped to my hands and knees, half voluntarily, but kept my eyes on the figure. Ve was dark-skinned and slender – but it wasn’t Akili, the hair was too long. I strained my eyes. It was a teenage girl. Her face caught the moonlight, her eyes wide with fear, but her mouth set in determination. Then the ground heaved, and we both fell. I heard her cry out in pain.

I waited – but she didn’t get up.

I started crawling back toward her. If she was injured, all I’d be able to do was sit with her until the ocean took us both – but I couldn’t keep going and leave her.

When I reached her, she was lying on her side with her legs jack-knifed, massaging one calf, muttering angrily. I crouched beside her and shouted, “Do you think you can stand?”

She shook her head. “We’d better sit it out here! We’ll be safe here!”

I stared at her. “Don’t you know what’s happening? They’ve killed the lithophiles!”

“No! They’ve been reprogrammed – they’re actively swallowing gas. Just killing them would be too slow – give too much warning!”

This was surreal. I couldn’t focus on her; the ground was juddering too hard. “We can’t stay here! Don’t you understand? We’ll drown!”