They sat longer. Abasio was searching himself for feelings of revulsion, rejection, or fear, finding vague shadows, nothing he could not manage. Xulai was remembering the ocean, the sheer, bubbling delight of the ocean.
Abasio said, “If you’re distributing sea eggs, I think Artemisia might be one place to start—after Tingawa. I think you’ll find a high proportion of the right kind of people.”
“The right people! The refugees,” she cried. “Abasio, the Sea King told me who they really are . . .” She told him what she had learned, including the winks and nods given to her while they were climbing the great cliff. “So many people, counting on us, depending on us, and we still don’t know what we do about the monster. He’s still intent upon ruining everything, and I’m so afraid he actually can! If he can detect those who have been given sea eggs, he’ll kill them. He’ll kill them all.”
Neither of them could believe otherwise, and they sat in baffled silence, side by side, unmoving, until they looked up to see Xulai’s father and grandfather rounding the end of the little island and returning slowly along the sand. Their faces expressed what Abasio had felt earlier: intense curiosity mingled with extreme apprehension. Xulai and Abasio stood up and went to greet them, seeing the older men’s expressions change and soften as they came nearer.
“It’s all right,” said Justinian. It could have been a statement or a question.
Xulai took his hand and drew him close between them. “It’s all right.” She reached up to pat his cheek. “We’re not totally comfortable with all this. We’re nowhere near understanding all this. We’re not sure we can manage it. But we’re not afraid of it.”
Over her father’s shoulder, she smiled into her grandfather’s eyes and he bowed to her, to Abasio, and turned away so they would not see his tears.
“So you met the Sea King,” said Precious Wind. “I never have. What did you think of him?”
“A very large, very smart creature who looks nothing at all like a human being,” said Abasio. “And who, nonetheless, seems very humane.”
They were dining in their common room, the food brought to them, they were told, by the same people who served those of Clan Do-Lok who lived in the citadel. Many of the clan had homes elsewhere, but those who did live there shared a common kitchen and people to provide their daily needs. Abasio, who liked to know people’s names and what they were like and where they lived, found himself frustrated at not seeing any of the same people twice. Each meal, it seemed, new people arrived, served them, bowed pleasantly but not at all obsequiously, and departed. Precious Wind said that because everyone wanted to see them, the opportunity was being passed around.
When their intimate group was left alone, Xulai took from her lap the small box that she and Abasio had taken from the forest so long ago. She set it on the table and opened it. It now held the twelve sea eggs she had cut out of her undershift that evening after returning to the citadel.
“I had thirteen,” she said. “I gave Abasio one in Merhaven. He swallowed it. I want you and Clan Do-Lok to decide who gets these. You know your people better than I do, and these will change six men and six women. I hope to heaven they’ll come out even when they are recognizing mates and that none of them need to run off across what’s left of the world to find someone.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Precious Wind asked, staring at the little box as though at a miracle. “We’ve been waiting, wondering. I told everyone, all the workers and planners, they were not allowed to ask you! Oh, this is wonderful. Once there are several couples, the number of sea eggs produced will increase exponentially. Within a year, we could have hundreds or more . . . what shall we call them? Sea-fertile people?”
“Let me be sure I understand this whole thing,” said Abasio. “A woman who is given a sea egg can produce sea eggs. Her female children cannot, however, unless their father has also received a sea egg. Xulai can produce sea eggs because her mother could and because Justinian’s genetics were already the same as the sea egg would have given him, right? It’s the same with Xulai and me. Justinian and I couldn’t change into . . . another form without the eggs, but we could father children who could.” He shook his head. “Sometimes I have a little trouble remembering what part of the situation is which.”
Precious Wind nodded. “If both father and mother have had sea eggs, or if one of them has and the other is already genetically compatible, then their children, male and female, will be sea fertile as well as able to change. Being able to change will be critical as the waters’ rising goes on. So, since genetic compatibility is very rare—we were lucky to find Justinian, but it took years and a number of false starts to find Abasio—our first priority is to increase the number and distribution of sea eggs as quickly as possible.”
Xulai said, “Also, the distribution must be as wide as possible, assuring that both men and women all over the world get them. No people or group should feel they are being left out. Assuming each sea-fertile woman produces as many as I have, each woman should pass on at least a dozen every year. By the time the waters’ rising has completed, all children should be changeable.”
Precious Wind nodded in agreement. “We will take the first ones produced by Tingawans back to Norland with us. And, if we give each one to a new candidate as soon as it’s produced, alternating between men and women . . . How many, Abasio?”
“Hundreds. The first year. When I think how far they had to go to track me down, and to find Justinian, though . . .”
“You can forget that. That was
