That rhythm was perhaps the only thing born of earth remaining to them. And when those rhythms changed to match the moons and tides of Avalon...

As perhaps they had already begun to do...

What then would remain of them?

Jessica... he thought one last time. Before his thoughts devolved to mist, and sleep claimed him.

When Justin woke, Katya was gone. He could hear sounds of construction on the beach. He showered in cold water, pulled his pants on, and wandered out.

The vast Chinese-dragon shape of Robor was undergoing a full diagnostic over the Surf's Up beach. The hundreds of separate, flame-and heatproof hydrogen pods providing her lift were individually listed for leaks, and superstructure was inspected...

Robor was as large as a football field and as tall as a twelve-story building, the largest vehicle on Avalon. He could lift forty tons of cargo. The Minerva shuttles could land anywhere near a water source (although the discovery of Grendels had made that a nervous proposition), and also travel to orbit. The skeeters had more versatility and speed and maneuverability, but minuscule range. Only Robor could travel to the mainland and bring back the booty.

Robor was constructed mostly of molded plastics. The satellites that originally surveyed Avalon had revealed oil in large quantities. When Geographic took its hundred-year jaunt across the sky at one-tenth light speed, she brought with her three prefabricated factories to manufacture the kind of high-tensile plastics that only zero-gee processing made possible.

Robor had no independent motors. Instead, three skeeters were anchored to the upper frame in triangular formation, and hooked into the dirigible's main bank of batteries and Begley-cloth solar collectors. Their engines became Robor's engines.

Robor was a favorite target of the Merry Pranksters. He had been painted with huge cartoon-whale eyes, been transformed into a gargantuan eighteenth-century Venetian gondola, and had once been transformed by a half ton of lightweight building foam into a remarkably lifelike phallus. When Little Chaka pointed out that Robor couldn't lift in that state, the decorations disappeared quick, but the dirigible's pronoun remained he.

His most recent incarnation was more innocuous, colorful... and oddly appropriate.

In red and green and electric blue, with snaky white mustache and huge, crimson-lipped leer, Robor was currently the living image of a Ming-dynasty dragon god.

The dragon hovered above the colony of Surf's Up, and in his shadow a working celebration of a kind was under way.

Justin spotted Cadmann's broad shoulders and graying hair through the crowd, and sought him out.

"Morning, father figure." He grinned. They shared a hug. "I wasn't expecting to see you."

"We're putting a rush on it. I think the eel in the Amazon and the bomb in the mine shook some of us up just because they came so close together. Inquiring minds want to know. Like, why now?"

"Just a moment, Dad." Justin shouted to Toshiro Tanaka. "Hey, Toshiro-san, can you go over this checklist and make sure we're not forgetting something? Thanks, owe you one. Dad, what's the report from Geographic?"

"Weather's fine," Cadmann said. "They're doing a critter check on the highlands and Xanadu, nothing so far. I take it you're going on this trip?"

"Sure, I'm in charge of the candidate Scouts-after all, their overnighter was kind of disrupted by all of this."

Justin led Cadmann to the main hall. Surf's Up's meeting hall was a 1960s Hollywood set decorator's fantasy of a South Seas beach hut, built of thornwood and foamed plastic struts. The roof would have been convincing, but the fronds were all from one mold, all identical.

Cadmann spread a roll of paper out on the table. "I think better on paper," he said, but he had computer files as well. "Cassandra, give me last night's notes, construction mode, freelance."

He spread out the paper. "Here," he pointed, "is the mainland. Eight hundred miles from here, and a good two days by Robor. You'll have some decent wind behind you. Coming back will be slower, but you can charge up off the mine's collectors."

"We'll hook up for recharging as soon as we land."

A small crowd had gathered to listen. Aaron slipped through the press. When he stood beside Cadmann they were almost exactly shoulder to shoulder. Aaron was larger, but time has a tempering effect available from no other source. Aaron Tragon might be a Cadmann Weyland one day. He wasn't yet.

"Yes, there's plenty of charge," Linda said from the door. "The mine hasn't used any for a while. Hi, Dad."

Cadmann looked a little startled. "You certainly made good time," he said.

She colored a little. "Take after my dad, I guess."

Justin grinned to himself. Stu Ellington held the record for speed through that pass. She'd have been taking it easy with Cadzie aboard. Justin had already put money on her for the next Landing Day race.

Little Cad was nursing, or sleeping, or both. The cloth covering Linda's bosom made it difficult to tell which. "Dad, we've found two more maybe-type explosions in the mine record."

"Grendel guano! Are the dates significant?"

She stared. Cadmann said, "I meant, did they happen when someone might have wanted-skip it. Tell me more."

"Recent explosions, twenty weeks ago and fourteen. Low energy, like gunpowder again, way tamer than dynamite. But they didn't happen where boring was going on, they happened in the secondary processors. That machinery is very forgiving, and it just went on chugging."

Cadmann thought carefully. If sabotage, then... test explosions before the real thing? But the real thing had been something quite different. "Got any ideas, small bright one?"

"Some defect in the thermal unit at the secondary processor. Some contamination in the coal itself? There's a mushy look to one of the spikes, like... less like a single grenade than a bushel of cherry bombs."

"Coal dust?" someone said from the door.

She shook her head. "Coal dust can explode, but we thought of that in the design. If air is mixing with the dust there' d have to be something wrong in the machinery, something Cassandra doesn't see. Even something deliberate."

"Sabotage?"

She shrugged.

"Have you done a spectroscopic on the coal?"

"Yes, of course, months ago-"

"No, I mean recent."

"Joe says we can't, the instrumentation is gone. We've got to go there."

"I was thinking dynamite at the bit, but what if air was getting in?"

Cadmann was looking about him, not obviously, trying to read faces.

"Possible, but tricky. We'll look when we get there," Linda said.

"All right. Bluff Two. Good moorage for Robor, and it's the right place for the Scouts. Make it the base, and we'll check the other mine areas by skeeter."

"What about the lowlands expeditions. Dad?"

"Remember, this is a dry run. Take three days, check everything, do your overnight with the Scouts, then you can look for a good place for a base camp. Stay alert, and pull back fast if anything unexpected crops up."

"Reconnaissance in force," Linda said.

Cadmann grinned faintly. His fingers moved across the map. "Once you're through with the Scout stuff, you can do geology with one skeeter and use another for mapping. While you do that, the Grendel Scouts stay on the Mesa with somebody steady in charge. Usual rules there. Stay high, no lowlands at all. Any variation from this order will be cause for mainland privileges to be revoked. Do we understand each other?"

For a moment Justin wondered if Aaron would give an argument, or say something provocative-he had been known to do that. But he wanted this trip too badly. Justin could almost see him sitting on his emotions, holding his tongue for dear life. Instead of smart-mouthing, he nodded.