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demands truth, and singularity of attention. One is easily lost in the cruel
maze of someone else's life. Kaleb has learned to filter the kelp as we learn
to filter our senses."
"What will he find in there, Elder?"
Twisp shook his head.
The red, green and blue lights intensified and their flicker quickened until
the cavern was awash with light. The borer workers left their machine to
stand at poolside with the others who gathered in wonder.
"I have heard of this," said one, "but never have I seen the like."
"Not even his mother, the great Scudi Wang, was such a one," said another.
Twisp found it difficult to hold back the torrent of words that memory
triggered at his tongue.
Memories -- they kept Twisp out of the kelp, just as they drew Kaleb inward.
The kelp was like a lifeboat to Kaleb, an anchor to Twisp.
A strange mist coalesced above the top of the pool. Every atom in the cavern
became charged with a visible hum, and everything above the waterline glowed
in a cool green haze. Half-formed images
-- fragments of someone's past -- flickered in and out of the haze. Twisp saw
fire and a baby at the breast, a memo to Captain Yuri Brood, the brown,
sensual curve of a wet breast in candlelight.
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It was a tumble down a soundless tunnel, just the slosh and thlip of the sea
accentuating the drift.
Twisp had the sense of reliving something, of deja vu without the vu. He
heard a voice out of the mist, a woman's voice.
"He will contact one of the upcoast Oracles," it announced, "there is news of
Crista Galli and the others. Through me Kaleb will meet my son, and through
him, Raja Flattery. He will explore
Flattery's inner being. Without secrets he cannot rule, and with the kelp
there are no secrets.
Kaleb will pick up the DNA path that leads to Flattery's hatch. Avata will
transmit what he sees there throughout Pandora."
The whole cavern had become the stage for a giant holo projection. Soon, the
babble and squall of life that went with the images swelled in the background.
The mist had become a whirling ball of color and sound, its movements jerky
and confused.
"Kaleb must focus his attention," Twisp said. "It is easy to get lost
following the maze of someone else's life. He must filter Avata as we filter
our senses. Then we will have a plan."
One who withdraws oneself from actions, but ponders on their pleasures in the
heart, such a one is under a delusion and is a false swimmer of the Way.
-- Zavatan Conversations with the Avata, Queets Twisp, elder
Flattery took his afternoon coffee in the Greens, enjoying an impromptu stroll
among the orange-
throated orchids. They clung to the rock clefts deep in the cavern, their
blossoms a pastel cascade. Condensation drip-dripped its paltry rain on
leaves and wet rock, on the great flat surface of the pool.
Kelp lights surged bright in the pool, reflected in from the nearby bed. He
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paused a moment.
This was something different, and the kelp, like Flattery, seldom did anything
different.
Flattery turned on his heel and dog-trotted back to his command bunker.
"I ordered this stand of kelp pruned," he snapped, and jabbed a finger seaward
for emphasis. "I
want it pruned now."
Marta snapped something into her messenger.
"Not good enough," Flattery said. He signaled his personal squad.
"Franklin, see that it's done. Use the mortar unit down on the beach."
"Aye, aye."
Franklin carried a pouch at his waist. Inside were the sandals, papers and
diary of the first man he'd ever killed. He said he was saving them for the
man's family, they would want them.
Franklin slipped with a warrior's shadowy ease out the hatch.
"We can't loosen up, now," Flattery told Marta. "Everything will go perfectly
if we don't get careless. That kelp bed is our only back door. We need it
secure now. Do you understand my concern?"
Malta nodded, then sighed.
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"Well," she said, "I have some concerns of my own. Strange things are
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