The boat quivered on its skirts and floated back down the ramp, through the entrance, Onto the glassy gray surface of the water. The gate sparked shut. Kylis was vaguely disappointed, for the landing was no different from any she had seen since she was brought to Screwtop herself. There was no way to get on board the boat. The familiar admission still annoyed her. For a spaceport rat, admitting defeat to the safeguards of an earthbound vehicle was humiliating. She could not even think of a way to get herself out of Screwtop, much less herself and Gryf and Jason. She was afraid that if she did not find some chance of escape, Jason might really try to flee through the swamp.
She ran her fingers through her short black hair and shook her head, flinging out the misty rain that gathered in huge drops and slipped down her face and neck and back. The heat and the rain-- she hated both.
In an hour or two the evening rain would fall in solid sheets, washing the mist away. But an hour after that the faint infuriating droplets would begin again. They seemed never to fall, but to hang in the air and collect on skin, on hair, beneath trees, inside shelters.
Kylis grabbed an overhanging plant and stripped off a few of its red-black fronds, flinging them to the ground in anger.
She stood up, but suddenly crouched down in hiding again. Below, Miria walked up to the fence, placed her hand against the palm lock, and waited, glancing over her shoulder as if making certain she was alone. As the gate swung open and Miria, a prisoner, walked alone and free into the guards' enclosure, Kylis felt her knees grow weak. Miria stopped at a dome, and the door opened for her. Kylis thought she could see the Lizard in the dimness beyond.
Almost the only thing this could mean was that Miria was a spy. Kylis began to tremble in fear and anger, fear of what Miria could tell the Lizard that would help him increase the pressure on Gryf, anger at herself for trusting Miria. She had made another mistake in judgment like the one that had imprisoned her, and this time the consequences could be much worse.
She sat in the mud and the rain trying to think, until she realized that Gryf would be off work in only a few minutes. She did not even have time to wake Jason.
When Kylis turned her back on the guards' domes, Miria had not yet come out.
Kylis was a few minutes late reaching the drill pit. The third shift had already ended; all the prisoners were out and drifting away. Gryf was nowhere around, and he was nothing if not conspicuous. She began to worry, because Gryf was frequently first out, never last-- he did not seem to tire. Certainly he would wait for her.
She stood indecisively, worried. Maybe he wanted something in the shelter, she thought.
She did not believe that for a moment. She glanced back toward the bottom of the Pit. Everything happened at once. She forgot about Miria, Lizard, the prison. She cried out for Jason, knowing her voice would not carry that far. She ran downhill, fighting the clay that sucked at her feet. Two people she knew slightly trudged up the hill-- Troi, skeletal, sharp-featured, sardonic, and Chuzo, squarely built and withdrawn. Both were very young; both were aging quickly here.
They supported Gryf between them.
Ash and grease disguised the pattern of his paisley skin. Kylis knew he was alive only because no one at Screwtop would spend any energy on someone who was dead. When she was closer, she could see the ends of deep slashes made by the whip where it had curled around his body. Blood had dried in narrow streaks on his sides. His wrists were abraded where he had been tied for the punishment.
'Oh, Gryf-- '
Hearing her, Gryf raised his head. She felt great relief.
Troi and Chuzo stopped when Kylis reached them.
'The Lizard ordered it himself,' Troi said bitterly. Screwtop held few amenities, but people were seldom flogged on the last day of the shift.
'Why?'
'I don't know. I was too far away. Anything. Nothing. What reason do they ever have?'
Kylis quieted her anger for the moment. She took over for Chuzo. 'Thank you,' she said, quite formally.
Troi stayed where he was. 'Get him to the top, anyway,' he said in his gruff manner.
'Gryf? Can you make it?'
He tightened his hand on her shoulder. They started up the steep path. When they finally reached the top, the immense sun had set. The sky was pink and scarlet in the west, and the volcanoes eastward glowed blood red.
'Thanks,' Kylis said again. Chuzo hesitated, but Troi nodded and left. After a moment Chuzo followed him.
Gryf leaned heavily on her, but she could support him. She tried to turn toward the shelters and their meager stock of medical supplies, but he resisted weakly and guided her toward the waterfall. If he wanted to go there first, he must think his wounds had been contaminated.
'Gods,' Kylis whispered. Clumsily, they hurried. She wished Jason had heard her, for with him they could have gone faster. It was her fault he was not there. She could not hold
Gryf up alone without hurting his back.
Gryf managed a smile, just perceptible, telling her, I hurt but I am strong.
Yes, Kylis thought, stronger than Jason, stronger than me. We'll survive. They continued.
'Kylis! Gryf!'
Gryf stopped. Kylis let him, with relief. Jason splashed toward them.
Gryfs knees buckled. Kylis strained to keep him out of the mud, away from more parasites. Jason reached them and picked Gryf up.
'Could you hear me?' Kylis asked.
'No,' Jason said. 'I woke up and came looking. Where are you taking him?'
'To the overflow pipe.'
Jason needed no explanation of the dangers of infection. He carried Gryf toward the waterfall, swearing softly.
The cooling towers from the steam wells produced the only safe water the prisoners had for bathing. It spewed from a pipe to a concrete platform and spilled from there to the ground, forming a muddy pool that spread into the forest. The water was too hot for anyone to go directly beneath the cascade. Jason stopped in knee-deep hot water. They were all standing in heavy spray.
Jason held Gryf against his chest while Kylis splashed water on Gryfs back from her cupped hands. She washed him as gently as she could and still be safe. She found no parasites and none of their eggs. The water swept away mud and sweat, turning Jason gold and bright pink and Kylis auburn and Gryf all shades of dark brown and tan.
Kylis cursed the Lizard. He knew he would look bad in the eyes of the tetra committee if Gryf were crushed or bled to death or went home with everything but his brain. But he would look worse if he could not force Gryf to go home at all.
Gryfs eyelids flickered. His eyes were bright blue, flecked irregularly with black.
'How do you feel?'
He smiled, but he had been hurt-- she could see the memory of pain. They had touched his spirit. He
looked away from her and made Jason let him turn. He staggered. His knees would not support him, which seemed to surprise him. Jason held him up, and Gryf took the last thin flake of antiseptic soap from Kylis' hand.
'What's the matter?' she asked.
Gryf turned her around. For a moment his touch was painful, then she felt the sharp sting of soap on raw flesh. Gryf showed her his hand, which glittered with a mass of tiny, fragile eggs like mica flakes. Gryf used up her soap scrubbing her side, and Jason got out what soap he had left.
'This cut's pretty deep but it's clean now. You must have fallen and smashed a nest.'
'I don't remember-- ' She had a kinesthetic memory, from running down into the Pit. 'Yes, I do...' It hit her then, a quick shock of the fear of what might have been-- agony, paralysis, senility-- if Gryf had not noticed, if the eggs had healed beneath her skin and hatched. Kylis shuddered.
They returned to the compound, supporting Gryf between them. The wall-less, stilt-legged shelters were almost deserted.
