Caroline Farley yawned and dipped her teabag in the plain white mug on the counter. It was more yellow now, actually, but it had once been white. She pressed the mug to her lips to take her first sip of tea when she heard a furious pounding on the front door.

“You son of a bitch! Who do you think you are? Did you really think I wasn’t going to find out?”

Caroline immediately recognized Cecil’s voice.

“You’re not the mayor here anymore! The good people of Hunrath made their choice. If you think–”

Caroline unlocked and opened the front door. Cecil was red in the face. Sweat ran down his goatee. She thought she saw a hint of embarrassment in his eyes.

“Good morning, Caroline.” He spoke as someone who delivers pleasantries even though they don’t want to.

“Daddy’s not here, Cecil. He must have left early. I bet he can hear you wherever he is, though.”

“He’s probably holed up in some crevice somewhere hoping I’ll forget about him. He can’t hide for long.”

“There aren’t many places to hide in a bubble.” These words were spoken from behind Cecil. Caroline’s father had returned.

“Especially with a broken arm,” he said, raising his arm brace slowly. “Good morning, Cecil. I see you’ve come to discuss things rationally.”

“Don’t you dare talk to me about rationality. You have been anything but rational.”

John coughed and nodded toward the front door.

“Oh, don’t mind me,” Caroline said.

“Why don’t you take a walk?” John suggested. “I’ll see you at the council meeting.”

Caroline returned to the kitchen, fetched her steaming mug, and returned to the door. Cecil and her father had made their way inside.

“Maybe make it a long walk,” Cecil said to her. “The town council will manage without you.”

“Bye, Daddy.” Caroline shut the door and made her way downtown. She couldn’t hear any yelling, but she was sure she was missing out.

Caroline spent the rest of her morning downtown visiting with the varied inhabitants of Hunrath. After lunch, she walked up the back steps of Hunrath’s central tower and entered the city council chamber.

Though she was early, when she entered Caroline found Josef Janssen sitting at the sunken table in front of the mayor’s desk. His slender frame appeared to be caught mid-swallow by the overstuffed sofa. He had apparently been busy because there were several papers placed around the table–agendas for the council meeting.

“Hello, Josef,” said Caroline.

“Good afternoon, Caroline. How are you and John?”

“I’m fine, thank you. I can’t say the same for my father. He and Cecil were almost trading blows this morning.”

“Ah yes, I saw Cecil heading your way this morning. They are both smart men. I’m sure they’ll figure it out.”

One by one the members of the town council entered the room and took their places around the table. Benjamin Sims and Cecil entered together, both of them laughing at some inside joke. Cecil sat down directly across from Caroline, and Benjamin took his seat at the mayor’s desk. Her father came in last and sat next to her.

Mayor Sims welcomed everyone and–for the most part–the meeting was full of the usual boring discussions about crop yields, resource allocation, and whether everyone was pulling their weight. The Collector Seed in the Entry Canyon was still there, undisturbed. Then Mayor Sims took some time to address the council.

“I know many of you have been speaking with each other,” he said as he looked directly at John. “And I know some of you have doubts regarding certain protective measures we have discussed here. But I remind you that we represent all of Hunrath, not just our individual interests.”

Bob interrupted. “We’ve heard this all already, Sims,” Bob said.

“I don’t mind hearing it again,” said Dana. “At least someone here understands our roles.”

“It doesn’t help that certain members of this council may be biased in regards to this matter,” C.W. added. He didn’t turn his head, but his eyes pointed to Caroline.

“I am not my father,” said Caroline. “I am trying to come at this in a neutral manner, but this . . . ‘Bleeder’ that Cecil talks so enthusiastically about could be our salvation or our destruction. Why even bother with it when it is just as likely to lead to our death as to our rescue?”

“Anything that gives us more control of our situation is a good thing,” said Josef. “We can’t blindly trust that our Tree is going to lead us to a better place.”

“It lead us all to this place,” said Caroline. Everyone in the room stared at her. Every single one of them, herself included, had been brought to Hunrath by a Collector Seed–one of many that were produced by the great central Tree.

Mayor Sims broke the silence. “Just–don’t forget about who you all are and where you came from. I’m not going to bring it to a vote today, but Cecil will prepare some explanatory documents for you in the coming days. Please review them, think on them, and come prepared to make the right choice the next time we meet. Thank you.”

Many small conversations broke out as everyone moved on from the meeting. Some council members sat chatting around the table, while others quickly made for the door.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Caroline asked her father.

“It wouldn’t have helped right now,” John said. “Besides, you heard everyone. The council is already considering what we have brought up, and that’s all we can ask. I’ve got some work to finish up. I’ll see you at home.”

John left the room. Caroline made to walk out, but she was stopped by a strong hand around her arm.

“Don’t let your emotions get in the way, Caroline.” Mayor Sims was stronger than Farley gave him credit for. “You were too young when you came here. You can’t even really say you left a life behind. The rest of us carry that curse. Don’t let your free heart rob us of our happiness.”

Caroline yanked her arm free but did not retreat. “Mayor, I don’t pretend to know what happiness is, but I am just as much of a human being as you and the rest of the people here. My destiny matters just as much as yours.”

“No matter. I have faith the fine people of Hunrath will make the right choice.” Mayor Sims returned to his desk where Dana was waiting, and Caroline exited the same way she had entered.

Caroline spent the next several hours in shade of the trees in the Bosque nearby. Here she could write, paint, and think to the rhythm of the flowing water. As much as she wanted to dwell on the division that had arisen in the community, the water forced her to clear her mind. It was so effective at this that she didn’t notice several hours were passing. It wasn’t until the Sorian sun ducked below a mountain that she realized what time it was.

Caroline crossed over the swing bridge and looked toward Cecil’s compound. He was speaking with someone inside his workshop–a mofang. If anyone else were in her shoes they might not have known exactly who this mofang was, but Farley had the advantage of growing up around them. This mofang was Rookoh, Chavar’s brother, but Caroline thought it was odd. She had never seen Rookoh with Cecil before. She had never seen Cecil with any of the mofangs before.

Noticing that they were headed for the stairs, Caroline stepped into the flowing river and waded to the other side. She sprinted across to the far side of the fence surrounding the compound and listened for the peculiar conversation.

“Thank you for the gift,” Cecil said.

“You–are welcome,” said Rookoh.

Caroline heard them walk toward the compound entrance. Then the footsteps stopped.

“More things,” said Rookoh. “He must stop. He–not can continue. Harm him.”

“Harm who?” asked C.W.

“John–Farley.”

The words struck Caroline with such force that she almost fell over. For a moment, she couldn’t see; she couldn’t breathe; she could only think about one thing: her father. She immediately took off toward home. She ran through the small collection of buildings they called “downtown”, past a mine on her right, a mine on her left, and across the main plain. She bounded over the white picket fence surrounding her home and shoved open the front door.

“Dad!” she called out fervently. Before she could worry another second, her father stepped in from the side room.

“What is it, Caroline?”

She rushed over and hugged him tightly. Words were inadequate.

“Well, hello to you, too, Sweetie. What’s got into you?”

Caroline quickly told her father what she had overheard. John listened intently and gave a fatherly smile.

“Rookoh stopped by here before heading to town. He was worried about my injury is all. Apparently the mofangs move as little as possible when they’re healing. That won’t work for me, though, because someone’s got to make supper!”

John pointed toward their small table. There were a few items spread on top.

“Would you care to join me?” John asked.

Caroline let out a slight sigh. “I feel so silly,” she said. “After your row with Cecil this morning, I thought maybe–I don’t know–I thought maybe they were taking drastic measures. It’s ridiculous, I know.”

“It’s not ridiculous. Living here makes me feel like I’m in a Western sometimes.”

“A what?”

John chuckled. “Never mind. Your mother didn’t like them anyway.”

Caroline and her father ate quickly and quietly.

“Now,” John said, “Dana and I are doing some survey work in the morning. I probably won’t be here when you get up. Don’t worry, those scoundrels haven’t done me in. I’ll be in the south mine if you need me.”

“Alright, but be careful with your arm. If it doesn’t heal fast, I’ll have the mofangs immobilize you.” Caroline spoke partly with sarcasm, partly with truth.

“I’ll be fine,” John said as he stood up. “I have to leave pretty early, though. Can you clean up?”

“I’ve got it,” said Caroline. “Get some sleep.”

“Goodnight.” John kissed her on the forehead and walked out of the room. She heard him climb up to his room on the second floor, and then it was quiet.

Caroline cleaned up their small mess and, as she was sometimes accustomed, grabbed a book and went to the living room. As she stretched out on the couch, she opened to where she had left off and read until her eyes grew heavy and she fell asleep.

***

“Caroline, open the door!”

Caroline jumped off the couch. She recognized the voice of Cecil mingled with furious pounding on the front door. She threw on a sweater and went to the door. The floorboard beneath her squeaked, and the pounding stopped.

Caroline had barely cracked open the door when Cecil pushed his way into her living room.

“Cecil, we can’t keep doing this. What’s so important it couldn’t wait until later? Daddy’s in the south mine if you’re looking for a fight.”

“Sit down, Caroline.”

“I was laying down until you started pounding on my door. I’ll stand thank you very much.”

“I don’t know quite how to say this. It’s–it’s–”

“Spit it out, Cecil.”

“Caroline, there’s been an accident.”

Cecil looked into her eyes, and Caroline saw not anger, but pity.

“John is dead.”