Whatever was inhabiting the swimming pool shifted and plopped into the water …

The Shapesinger. She had been watching.

Abdopus aculeatus walks from tide pool to tide pool, hunting crab …

And Octopus habilis watches us, watching them. Studies us, studying them. Octopus habilis? Or Octopus sapiens?

The Shapesinger, in her shipwreck home, speaking to the others …

Across its surface flowed a syntax of shapes—a steady sequence of silhouettes—ringed, scrolled, involuted, whorled. The figures danced on the octopus’s skin … the articulated cut-out figures of a shadow play, moving behind a candlelit cloth.

Singing her species’ own adventures? Or singing them ours? Telling them of us? Trying to convince them? Trying to teach them?

“She must have hidden in the pool when the others left,” Evrim said. “But why?”

“To try to speak to us,” Ha said. “And it is not a pool. It is her submersible. It is her research station. It is her outpost in our world. She has been watching us from the beginning.”

And now she felt as if something were in the room with her. Had been in here with her for a while now.

“And not only from there. She has gone anywhere she wanted to, observing us. And we never saw her.”

Altantsetseg was silent, looking down at the carved articulation of the beak. Her face had stopped bleeding. She met Ha’s eyes.

“I underestimated my opponent. I failed in my job.”

“You have not failed in it yet,” Ha said. “There is still time. Can you protect this place? Can you keep everyone away?”

Altantsetseg met her eyes. “Not forever. But for longer than DIANIMA could have. We have a plan, at least. And the weight of an agreement with the United Nations behind us. This archipelago will be a protectorate of the Tibetan Buddhist Republic. More than just property. But nothing is certain. And nothing is permanent. I can’t tell you how much time we have.”

“Then I want to stay.”

“As do I,” Evrim said.

Altantsetseg nodded. “Good choice. But first—my drones have found Dr. Mínervudóttir-Chan.”

Chapter 48

One of the great tragedies of science is that the increase in its complexity has made most scientists into little more than technicians, driving them into the tunnels of specialized disciplines. The further the scientist progresses down into the mine of knowledge, the less she can see the world into which that knowledge fits.

I never wanted to be a specialist: I wanted to be a scientist in the heroic sense, bringing new forms into the world. From the first moment, I have wanted greatness.

—Dr. Arnkatla Mínervudóttir-Chan, Building Minds

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