After the gala came many dreams and Sarah could not escape them. It was the surging flood, the giants hemming her in, and the shaking earth that appeared to her with regularity now as she slept. Then came the words spoken above the waters echoing through her head. Other times there were nightmares of that evening: flashes, fire, screaming, and people stampeding in terror. Sarah did not sleep well.

Neither did her brother Jack, for his ordeal had been no less frightening. After he and his date fled into the Parlour Lounge they sheltered behind a couch across from the open doorway leading from the Great Hall. Jack poked out his head to watch for danger and saw the final fight in the corner they had just been, at the very table they had just eaten. A stray bolt even flickered into the Parlour Lounge causing a small fire on a nearby ottoman. Then there was the smell of things burning both living and dead; horrible to behold and forever tied to his memory.

And so the fruits of Undersea bore bitter produce that night and not the sweetest sounding words of song, chant, or pulpit lectern could wash it clean. By words and actions Undersea was faltering; by what words and actions could save it? Yet Sir LaRosa drove madly on, the hammer of any nail that poked to far above the status quo. For the status quo was now the new gold of Undersea; the most treasured virtue of it's citizens. The people heard the rumors of the purge and trembled, and in the big house on the wall brother and sister leaned on each other, for they were closest of all to the fear everyone felt.

On most nights Jack would come to Sarah's room and sleep on a couch there. Sarah would read to him from grandma's book and it brought them comfort, but also questions. Other times when they could not sleep; when one would wake the other with their screams, they would sit together on the floor, one holding the other until sleep took them both. It was hard for Jack, who was being groomed by Sir LaRosa to one day be a powerful player in the elite of Undersea. For he had looked up to his doting step father and had seen only a tall confident man; impeccably dressed with stars on his shoulders. A man who was careful to look a certain way in the eyes of his stepson, careful to give him every luxury, appearing as the very thing Jack should want to obtain in life: power, glory, wealth, and prestige. There was nothing powerful, glorious, wealthy, or prestigious about what Jack had seen that night of the party. There had to be a better way.

So Jack learned from Sarah and heard much of what she told him of father and grandma and the sunlight above the waves. Sarah would copy whole pages from grandma's book on pressed kelp paper and Jack would take those copies with him. One day Sarah gave him grandma's book. "Take it with you!" she said, "I will keep the copies." Jack protested but in the end Sarah won out. Jack read it often.

- - -

Somehow Sarah managed to keep up with her studies despite the purge, for school work helped keep her mind off things. Sarah soon neared the end of her standard education at a school where everyone feared her feeling very much alone. She thought of Zenith and Beamer often and missed them terribly.

In those isolated months following the party Sarah saw mother and Sir LaRosa seldom, and so was much surprised one day when she received the summons to come to their chambers for a "talk". A terrified Emmie delivered the message and there were two Mariner Patrolmen with her. When the three of them entered her quarters the patrolmen went straight to the bed. Lifting her pillow they uncovered the trove of papers and writings she had hid there. "Busted," thought Sarah as she looked over at a confused and frightened Emmie. Emmie looked back and feebly shook her head as if to say, "I had no idea this was coming." Sarah gave her a reassuring smile, "lets get this over with," she thought, turning to the Mariner Patrolmen.

"Can I help you gentlemen find something?" she said without fear.

"Ha, right where LaRosa said it might be," said one out loud, "though I don't see any old books or anything like that. Just loose papers in some sort of scratch-like hand writing."

"Its called cursive," said Sarah with a faint smile, "it used to be all the rage."

"Well I can see why it went out of style," said one squinting at the page, "you can barely read this stuff."

Sarah smiled. "Well gentlemen, shall we go?"

"Wait here," said the other, "we will deliver these pages to LaRosa and the missus and see if that changes our orders. We were to bring you and any book we found, but what we have here is just a bunch of sheets with hand writing on them."

"Then I shall wait for your return," Sarah replied.

"One of us will stay here," said the patrolman scooping up the papers. "Claird, you stay. I'll be back." He ducked out into the hall.

Claird stood by the door watching Sarah and Emmie, frowning at the two of them. Emmie shook with fear though tried not to show it. Sarah went over and gave her a hug.

"Say," said Claird, "what'd you do that for?"

"I can't give my friend a hug?"

"Well yeah, but she's a servant. You're servant!" Claird shook his head.

"Okay Claird, but how would you like to be treated were you in her shoes? Like a normal human being who has worth wouldn't you say?"

"But I'm not in her shoes," he scoffed, "I'm an officer in the Mariner Patrol!" He proudly tapped the stars on his shoulder.

"Yes quite nice," said Sarah referring to the stars, "I see that you have them. You've got your stars. But...then what?"

"But then what?"

"Yes. You've got your stars, but then what?" repeated Sarah.

"Well...then I move up the ranks and become captain!" said Claird.

"But then what?"

"Why commander then!"

"And then?"

Claird looked puzzled, "well, then maybe I become a general after that, though that would be a long way off, even if I play my cards right."

"I hope you play them right!" said Sarah with a sad smile shaking her head, "I would imagine those who died during that coup attempt and the Great Purge said the same thing."

"Say," he said, "what are you getting at?"

"Only this Claird, those men and women who died were all trying to get somewhere. They made plans, they dreamed, and maybe some of those dreams came true for a little while. But then what?"

Claird frowned and said nothing. "But then what?" he muttered finally, "well what else by the lamps of Undersea is there!"

"Those pages you confiscated tell that tale," said Sarah and she told Claird all about it. He was speechless. "If you want to know more," said Sarah, "come find me in Fish Town."

"Fish Town?" said Claird, "why are you going there?"

"Where else am I to go when they kick me out of here?"

Just then the other Mariner Patrolman stepped into the room his face white. "You have been summoned at once!" he said to Sarah, "what in Undersea did you write on those pages?"

"Only truth," said Sarah, hoping they would only kick her out and not do worse. She wished she could see Jack before she went to their summons. They walked her down the hall towards the balcony then turned left towards mother and Sir LaRosa's rooms. They knocked and Sarah was ushered in. The officers left. It was dim inside and Sir LaRosa was pacing.

"I would have come if you'd asked me sir," she said standing before Sir LaRosa, "was the escort really necissary?"

Sir LaRosa glowered before her, rising himself to full height. "Oh it was necessary young Sarah." He waived the stack of loose sheets in front of her and tossed them on a chair, "and to think I brought you here to live. Out of the goodness of my heart!"

Mother sat tight lipped to the side and said nothing.

"And the servents, what's gotten into your head to keep molly coddling them as if they were on the same level as you, or worse, your friends? I expected it would take time for the buffoonery of that old women to be washed out of you but enough is enough. And your father, he was no better! Fools the both of them! They got what they deserved; Undersea has no place for their ilk. Sir LaRosa's eye flashed as he spoke and he jabbed the air with his finger as Sarah had seen him do in many a speech. "But instead of cleansing you from the imbecilic twaddle of those two dolts to stupid to seize the good fortune when placed in front of them, you have responded in your ungrateful cheek by starting to rub off on Jack!" Sir LaRosa was thundering now. "This I will not have! I could overlook some of the other things young Sarah, for I am merciful, but not this! Not. This. Look around you young Sarah," said Sir LaRosa shaking his head, "it doesn't get better then this! This mansion! This city! Nothing surpasses it! People tremble before me. I hold their fates in my hand!"

Sarah looked at Sir LaRosa and did not tremble. Much to her surprise she found herself pitying that terrible man. He had followed the path to this point as anyone might, yet she could see that amongst all the power and opulence and glory he had it would never be enough for him, and she felt tears form in her eyes for his sake.

"You are quite bright young Sarah," said Sir LaRosa softening his tone, "one of the best students to come through the Academy of the Elites. Your teachers sing your praises to me. Marine biology I am told," he said pacing in front of her, "is a passion of yours. And I know you have met Professor Dodson, a personal friend of mine, and have been in correspondence with him already. You've made quite an impression on him. He's taken a shine to you. Dodson's our foremost scientist in his field and would be eager to have you as his student! It could easily be arranged for you to study under him at the University next year..."

Mother leaned forward in her chair.

"I don't have to remind you what a privilege this would be, for your passion, for your dreams, for your career," continued Sir LaRosa softly, "but I have to be sure young Sarah that you will not bring the old women's ideas with you. I can't have you disrupting things like the first time we met!" There was a half humerus twinkle in his eye. "You have bright days ahead young Sarah, if you can leave things like this behind." Sir LaRosa was holding the disheveled stack of papers he had tossed aside. "Its a done deal young Sarah. You have a future with me, with Undersea. There is nothing for you in this," and he tossed the pages into a trash bin.

An uncertain silence passed between them.

"Come Sarah," said Sir LaRosa holding out a hand, "we'll take the Under-Line to the Lab together and I'll show you where you'll be working. The professer is eager to meet you."

Mother looked at Sarah with pleading eyes. She looked scared, Sarah thought, and then Sarah knew fear was exactly what waited for herself if she accepted Sir LaRosa's proposal. Sarah closed her eyes, mind swimming; still this was not so easy. Sir LaRosa's offer danced before her like bait on a string, yet deep within Sarah sensed the hook.

Sarah opened her eyes and saw Sir LaRosa watching her. He shifted his weight, impatient to begin. Stars glittered on his shoulders. No she shouldn't, but the bait looked so good, maybe she could have just a nibble? Sarah wanted it; was that so bad? Back and forth, back and forth Sarah went, helpless in that no man's land between heart and hand.

"Stand at the crossroads and look," said Sarah's heart, or a voice in it very nearly like it, "ask for the ancient paths, ask where the good way is, and you will find rest for your soul." Sarah sighed, it was precisely that rest that she longed for more than anything, even in spite of what Undersea could offer.

"Time to go," said Sir LaRosa moving towards Sarah, patience gone.

Sarah looked up at him and took a deep breath. "No thank you sir," she heard herself say.

Sir LaRosa stopped, eyes cold. "No?"

"No thank you sir," repeated Sarah swallowing hard, clinging to a better promise for dear life.

Sir LaRosa ground his teeth and his face flushed crimson. His hands tightened into fists and with a hiss he advanced on Sarah, spittle flying from his lips. Sarah's eyes flashed wildly about, searching for a place to flee as a harsh noise escaped from Sir LaRosa's throat.

"Octavian!" rang a clear voice from somewhere beyond.

To Sarah's astonishment Sir LaRosa halted. Proper color returned to his face though he loomed before her stern as a statue, a flinty expression carved on his features. A pause. Then with the hint of a smile Sir LaRosa looked down his nose at her and spoke with calm. As a judge to one condemned he spoke:

"You have five minutes."