“Don’t hold it against them,” cried Melanie. “This business has troubled us for generations! We were sent here as the protectors of the taiau wairua, but now the taiau wairua claims to be threatened, and you agree! So, if it is threatened, then we are threatened. We’ve made a vow, a sacred oath, the source of our mana, to protect the creatures, all of them, even bacteria! It is our vow, the source of our mana, to destroy no living species, to contaminate no world, but you say we must! If we do this, we will have betrayed our vow. If we do not, we will have failed our trust!”
Genevieve stared into the distance, her lips twisted into a bitter line. “You’re no more troubled than I am, Melanie. If I don’t act, I’ll have failed my vow and my trust as well. The worst of it is that whatever we do may be wrong, and at the moment I haven’t the least notion of anything we can do that will possibly set things right.”
At the marae, talk wenton throughout the afternoon, and as she learned additional facts, Genevieve filled in the outline of her understanding with implications and possibilities. All the theological-cum-ritual issues around which much of the talk circled lay outside her experience. That didn’t matter, however. The covenants lay outside the experience of half the people in Haven, but everyone gave them lip service. It let people get on with life.
Believe or not believe, the longer she considered the problem, the more her understanding pushed up into the light, like a mushroom that thrust suddenly out of forest litter, a presence that was undeniable whether one knew anything about botany or not!
On the basis of one such understanding, she told them in midafternoon that it was necessary to evacuate the marae. “The Shah will soon attack the fortress. We should not be bottled up here.”
Melanie said, “The committee says the destruction of the lichen must be discussed in Galul, with everyone taking part who wants to do so. Since we have no way to kill it, some strategy must be devised. Our scientist-persons are in Galul, so the committee and most of the rest of us will be leaving marae in a day or two.”
Genevieve reached for Melanie’s arm, shaking it. “Listen to me, Melanie. Not ‘most of the rest.’ Not ‘in a day or two.’ Everyone must leave here. Anyone left here will be as good as dead.” She said it in an emotionless voice. She was seeing the bodies, lying on the sand. It was no longer enough merely to see and accept. Not if there were a chance at avoidance.
Melanie stared at her. “You’re sure.”
“I have said,” Genevieve stated in a clear, direct voice that held more than a hint of anger. “What I have seen, I have said. I have seen the dead in Marae Morehu.”
“Very well.” Melanie frowned. “I suppose you mean soon. Tomorrow, perhaps?”
“Tonight,” Genevieve replied.
Within the hour, Melanie came to her very flushed and teary to say that word had arrived from the malghaste in Mahahm-qum saying the Shah was mustering an attack against the marae.
“You were right,” Melanie said, biting her lip. “I’m sorry I doubted you. Here we’ve been expecting you, or someone like you, for generations, and when you turn up, I doubt!”
“I don’t care if you doubt me,” Genevieve replied. “If I expected you to believe me, I probably should be carrying a flaming sword or something. I look in the mirror to see this witless girl and I doubt myself! So long as you and I act upon what I know, it doesn’t matter whether we doubt, but act we must. Otherwise, I’m no good to you, or to anyone. You’ll all leave, won’t you?”
“Most of the people here will go to Galul. We have seven sleds already loaded with supplies for the small refuges south of here, so seven of us — including Joncaster, Enid, and I—will drive them from here to the mountains. There’s a range of stony hills along the shore where we’ll leave the last load, then head south to Galul, after the rest. A few of us always remain in the small refuges. We never like to go too far from the Mahahmbi, for fear of what they may get up to.”