She opened her eyes and raised herself on one elbow so she could look at me; she didn't lift her gaze high enough to meet my eyes. "They made me sad," she said. "Fucking Explorers."

"Did they hurt you?" I knelt in the sand so I wouldn't loom over her. "If they hurt you, it must have been an accident. Explorers are programmed… Explorers are taught very strictly never to hurt the people they meet."

"Yes," the woman said, "they are taught many things." This time her gaze met mine for an angry second before dropping away. "Explorers know so much, and it is all stupid!"

I stared at her, trying to decide how to read her. She looked like a grown woman, perhaps in her early twenties; but she talked with the words of a child. Did she only have a primitive grasp of English? Perhaps she learned the language as a child and hadn't used it since. A team of Explorers might have passed through this area when the woman was young, spent a few months, then moved on. Children learn languages quickly… and they form crushes quickly too. Maybe the Explorers had done nothing worse than leaving an overfond child who wanted them to stay.

"I'm sorry," I said, "that the other Explorers made you sad. I'll try not to do the same thing. If I ever make you sad, you tell me and I'll try to fix it."

"Fucking Explorers." She turned away and tucked up her knees, hugging them to her chest. "Your face is very ugly," she said.

"I know." I told myself I was speaking to a sulky five-year-old. "And I look even worse in daylight."

"Why do fucking Explorers go places when they are so ugly? Other people do not like seeing ugly things." She took a deep breath that was bordering on a sob. "Fucking Explorers should just stay home."

"No argument from me," I murmured. In a louder voice I said, "If you want, I'll go away."

She ignored my offer. "Why is the other Explorer so stupid?"

"What?"

"He just lies there. He doesn't talk. Does he think he is smarter than me? Does he think I'm dirty?"

I had forgotten about Chee. His body lay a short distance up the beach, his tightsuit glistening in the moonlight.

"The other Explorer is dead," I answered softly. "He was very old, and he just—"

"He is not dead!" The woman was suddenly on her feet, glass fists clenched in fury. "Do you think you are sacred? Do you think you are holy? Fucking Explorers are not such things as can die!"

And she stormed over to Chee's corpse and kicked it hard in the side.

Sad

My kung fu master would say the kick showed incorrect foot formation — if I kicked a tightsuit like that, I'd have broken my toe. The glass woman showed no sign of injury; and when she pulled her foot away, I saw a shadowy dent in the suit's fabric, as if someone had smashed it with a sledgehammer. The force of the kick had been enough to scuff the body back several centimeters over the sand.

"Are you asleep?" the woman shouted at Chee. "Wake up! Wake up!"

She kicked him again.

I stepped forward to stop her, then held myself back. She couldn't hurt Chee now; and if there was an afterlife, the admiral would be amused to watch a beautiful nude alien try to wake up his corpse.

After three more kicks that didn't quite breach the suit, the woman dropped to her knees right on the admiral's chest and screamed in his face, "Wake up! Wake up!" She shook his shoulders, then clapped her hands on both sides of the helmet with a thud.

Panting and puzzled, she turned back to me. "He cannot hear me inside of his shell."

"He can't hear you," I agreed, "but it's not because of the suit."

"Do not say he is dead!" She buffeted the helmet with more smacks of her hand.

"Wait," I said at last. "Wait."

Kneeling by Chee's head, I fumbled with the clasps on his helmet. My fingers were clumsy after the dunk in cold water; wearing clammy wet underwear didn't help my condition either. I'd have to build a fire soon, before hypothermia set in.

The glass woman's face was close to mine as I removed Chee's helmet — I could feel her body heat on my skin. As soon as the helmet was off, she reached down and pinched his cheek. When she got no response, she shook him by the chin, then pulled on his ear. I placed my hand over hers and pulled her gently away from the corpse.

"He is dead," I told her. "Really."

I laid the back of my hand against the admiral's forehead. He was beginning to cool.

Hesitantly, the glass woman peeled open Chee's eyelid. The pupil did not react. She suddenly snatched back her hand and pressed it to her chest, as if she could hardly breathe.

"He is truly dead?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Explorers can die?"

"They're famous for it," I said.

She stared at me; her expression was so intense, I came close to flinching. "You can die?" she asked at last.

"As far as I know. It's not something I want to test anytime soon."

The woman peered at my face a moment longer, as if searching for some sign I was lying; then she turned away, her troubled gaze moving toward the lake's dark water. After a moment, she said, "Now I feel very sad."

"I feel sad too." My hand still lay on Chee's forehead.

Oar

I told her, "Before my friend died, he asked me to put his body into the lake."

"Yes," the woman agreed. "We will hide him in the lake. We will use rocks to make him heavy so he will go to the very bottom; and he will be safe forever and ever."

I wondered what was going through her mind: why she used the phrase "hide him in the lake," what she meant by "safe," why the ability to die meant so much to her. Possibilities leapt to mind, but I shoved them away; Explorers shouldn't jump to conclusions.

We both began collecting rocks — mostly just pebbles, since neither the beach nor bluffs offered stones of any great size. I stuffed what I gathered into Chee's belt pouches, but the woman deposited hers directly inside his suit. She placed them there one at a time, working with care and delicacy. Once, I thought I saw her lips speaking silent words as she pushed one pebble after another through the suit's open collar. I wondered what she was saying… but her face had such a look of concentration, I didn't interrupt.

There came a time when we were both kneeling beside Chee's body: the woman inserting pebbles through his collar and me filling his pockets. After a full minute of silence, the woman said, "My name is Oar. An oar is an implement used to propel boats."

"I'm pleased to meet you, Oar," I answered solemnly. "My name is Festina Ramos and I take… my name is Festina. According to my mother, that means 'the Happy One.' " I didn't mention how Mother held that against me. You're supposed to be happy, Festina; you have everything a little girl could want. Why must you be so deliberately miserable?

"Your mother," Oar said. "That is the woman who gave you birth?"

"Yes."

"Have you given birth to a child, Festina?"

"No. Not me."

"Do you think you will some day?"

"No."

"Why not? Would it not be interesting to have a child come out of you?"

"I suppose so."

"And since this man here has… died," Oar continued, "should you not produce a new Explorer to replace him?"

"It's not that easy."

She looked at me, waiting for me to explain. I shook my head, too tired to belabor the details. Would she understand if I explained that women received tubal ligations upon joining the Fleet? The operation could be reversed on request after ten years' active service; but I doubted I would find a surgeon to do the job here on Melaquin. Children were impossible for me. Someday, when I was past the numbness of Yarrun and Chee dying, I wondered how I'd feel about being permanently barren.