“Then my arrival has been delayed too long already.” Vaintè seated herself as the guard spoke commandingly into the boat’s ear. The creature’s flesh pulsed as it started forward, moved by the jet of water it expelled.

“Tell me about the city,” Vaintè said. “But first, your name.” She spoke quietly, warmly. This guard was not to blame for the killings, she had not been on duty. Now Vaintè must think of the city, find the allies she would need if the work were to be done correctly.

“I am Inlènat,” she said, no longer as fearful as she had been. “It will be a good city, we all want it that way. We work hard, though there are many difficulties and problems.”

“Was Deeste one of the problems?”

Inlènat turned her hands away to hide the color of her emotions. “It is not for me to say. I have only been a citizen for a very short time.”

“If you are in the city you are of the city. You may speak to me because I am Vaintè and I am Eistaa. Your loyalty is to me. Take your time and think of the significance of that. It is from me that authority flows. It is to me that all problems will be brought. It is from me that all decisions will radiate. So now you know your responsibilities. You will speak and answer my questions truthfully.”

“I will answer as you command, Eistaa,” Inlènat said with assurance, already settling herself into the new order of things.

Bit by bit, by careful and patient questioning, Vaintè began to build a picture of events in the city. The guard was of too low a station to have knowledge of what had happened in the higher reaches of command—but she was well aware of the results. They were not pleasing.

Deeste had not been popular, that was obvious. She had apparently surrounded herself with a group of cronies who did little or no work. There was every chance that these were the ones who had forgotten their responsibilities, had not taken the other roads of satisfaction when egg-time came, who had instead used the males despite the fact the birth beach was not ready. If this were true, and the truth could be found out easily enough, there would be no waste of a public trial. The criminals would be put to work outside the city, that was all, would work until they fell or were killed or were eaten by the wild creatures. They deserved little else.