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Updated: June 20, 2025
But the accounts of civil war, totalitarian regimes, torture, famine, real and effectual slavery, environmental pollution and industrial greed, excited in him the same horror that the imagined swarm of giant ants had once roused in Sylviana. Sometimes these responses troubled her, and she felt called upon to correct his deficiencies in perspective and defend her race.
So at last, wearily, he consented. The two went briefly to the botanist's rooms to fetch it, then turned themselves again out of doors. There in the clear space by the tables Kalus saw the two women: Kataya, who looked up from her work and smiled faintly, and Sylviana, who did not smile, though she could not entirely hide her relief at seeing him at all.
Sylviana heard a scratching sound at the door, then something that sounded as if the night itself had been given bitter voice. Akar was not with them, and the only image stark enough to penetrate her malaise, and therefore seem real to her, said that it was the wolf, wounded and probably dying. She went shaking to the door, worked free the bolt, and thrust it open.
For her own part, though she might have wished it otherwise, Sylviana could feel nothing for him but pity and a kind of awe. At times the obsidian hardness of his eyes would push her senses toward the protective realm of fear; but always his words, and her own twisted purpose called them back. She was neither attracted nor repulsed, only determined.
But even this small dignity was not afforded him, since still the others must eat. He stepped back onto the ledge with the cub beside him. The tiger was gone. He knocked wearily on the door, his body aching, and after a short time which seemed far longer, Sylviana opened it. Her face was full of concern, but he had not the strength to pretend that things were better than they were.
After several minutes he nodded imperceptibly to the wolf, then spread his wings and took off slowly. He circled the mountain twice, swooped low down the canyon as if in anger, then turned westward at the sandstone ridge and moved steadily out of sight. Sylviana stood watching Kalus, whose eyes gleamed with some fierce emotion that was beyond her experience, but not her ability to feel.
'Live for me, instead. And they quietly embraced. A moment later, Sylviana saw beyond his shoulder the outline of what appeared to be a stalking predator. The image yet unresolved through her tears, it dropped slinking down into the gorge. 'Kalus. Something's coming this way. He turned quickly, and she pointed. He drew his sword, and put her behind him with his arm.
Sylviana easily saw what she had always known, that the skyline of Manhattan had been built upon solid bedrock. For this reason alone had the Island survived at all, blasted as it must have been by successive nuclear explosions. And with this she realized suddenly where the deposits of earth had come from. Besides the fact that the continental coast had been ravaged..... Long Island was gone!
Sylviana thought her heart would break for it, and Kalus remembered for the first time without bitterness, the smile and trust of young Shama. The girl sat up; she couldn't help herself. At once the child sprinted back to the sea, diving into the waters as naturally as a newly hatched sea turtle, thinking no more of the ensuing swim than a bird thinks of flight.
The scarred remains of buildings were also less frequent, though here and there an inexplicable mound of slag, half overgrown like an ancient, impoverished barrow, rose to recall the unsleeping dead that still walked there. Sylviana was soon pale and exhausted, and Kalus could no longer indulge her almost distracted urge to keep moving.
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