'If I leave with you, we'll leave after breakfast tomorrow morning.'
Tate, being Tate, said nothing. She smiled.
'I didn't say I was going. All I mean is that there's no reason to sneak away in the night and step on a coral snake or something. It's pitch black out there at night.'
'Gabe thinks we'll have more time before they discover we're gone.'
'Where's his mind-and yours? Leave tonight and they'll notice you're gone by tomorrow morning-if you don't wake everyone on your way out by tripping over something or someone. Leave tomorrow morning and they won't notice you're gone until tomorrow night at dinner.' She shook her head. 'Not that they'll care. They haven't so far. But if you want to slip away, at least do it in a way that will give you a chance to find shelter before nightfall-or in case it rains.'
'When it rains,' Tate said. 'It always rains sooner or later. We thought. . . maybe once we were clear of this place, we'd cross the river, head north, keep heading north until we found a dryer, cooler climate.'
'If we are on Earth, Tate, considering what was done to Earth and especially to the northern hemisphere, south would be a better direction.'
Tate shrugged. 'You don't get a vote unless you come with us.'
'I'll talk to Joe.'
'But--''
'And you ought to get Gabe to help you with your acting. I haven't said a thing you and Gabe hadn't already thought of. Neither of you is stupid. And you, at least, are no good at bullshitting people.'
Characteristically, Tate laughed. 'I used to be.' She sobered. 'Okay, yeah. We've pretty much worked out the best way of doing it-tomorrow morning and south and with someone who probably knows how to stay alive in this country better than anyone but the Oankali.'
There was a silence.
'We really are on an island, you know,' Lilith said.
'No, I don't know,' Tate answered. 'But I'm willing to take your word for it. We'll have to cross the river.'
'And in spite of what we see on what seems to be the other side, I believe we'll find a wall over there.'
'In spite of the sun, the moon and the stars? In spite of the rain and the trees that have obviously been here for hundreds of years?'
Lilith sighed. 'Yes.'
'All because the Oankali said so.'
'And because of what I saw and felt before I Awoke you.'
'What the Oankali let you see and made you feel. You wouldn't believe some of the stuff Kahguyaht has made me feel.'
'Wouldn't I?'
'I mean, you can't trust what they do to your senses!'
'I knew Nikanj when it was too young to do anything to my senses without my being aware of it.'
Tate looked away, stared toward the river where the glint of water could still be seen. The sun-artificial or real-had not quite vanished and the river looked browner than ever.
'Look,' she said, 'I don't mean anything by this, but I have to say it. You and Nikanj. . .' She let her voice die, abruptly looked at Lilith as though demanding a response. 'Well?'
'Well, what?''
'You're closer to him-to it-than we are to Kahguyaht. You...'
Lilith stared at her silently.
'Hell, all I mean is, if you won't go with us, don't try to stop us.'
'Has anyone tried to stop anyone from leaving?'
'Just don't say anything. That's all.'
'Maybe you are stupid,' Lilith said softly.
Tate looked away again and shrugged. 'I promised Gabe I'd get you to promise.'
'Why?'
'He thinks if you give your word, you'll keep it.'
'Otherwise, I'll run and tell, right?'
'I'm beginning not to care what you do.'
Lilith shrugged, turned and started back toward camp. It seemed to take Tate several seconds to see that she meant it. Then she ran after Lilith, pulled her back away from the camp.
'All right, I'm sorry you're insulted,' Tate rasped. 'Now are you going or aren't you?'
'You know the breadnut tree up the bank-the big one?'
'Yes?'
