Over the next few days, events in the settlement continued to develop. Several more houses were searched by the gems, many of them the homes of Connie's classmates or other students in the senior grade. Connie found this was having an adverse effect on her social standing as more of the other kids became openly suspicious of her, with some refusing to speak to her at all.

Worse, Connie worried that their perception wasn't wholly unjustified. After all, she had been the one who blithely confirmed to her mother that everyone in her class had taken a keen interest in the investigation on Onion. Sure, Mrs Maheshwaran could just as easily have learned this information from Mrs Lezner, but the fact remained that it had been Connie. Was it so far-fetched that her mother's prejudices against various students was informing her father's investigation, when they clearly had so little other information to work with? Both Lars and Onion had reputations as troublemakers in the classroom, and they had been the first ones to fall under scrutiny.

In a break between lessons, she thought it best to bring this up with PeeDee.

"You should tell Ronaldo not to take too obvious an interest in what's going on," she told him. "Not while he's in my mom's class."

"Of course he won't," PeeDee scoffed, "he's not stupid." He glanced toward the education centre and Connie caught a hint of uncertainty in his expression.

"I'm not saying he's stupid," she insisted. "It's only that he can be a bit... enthusiastic, sometimes."

PeeDee assured her he would mention it to Ronaldo, and the subject was dropped.

Whenever possible, Connie would contrive ways to spend some time in the library at lunchtime or at the end of class, to work on composing her letter to Pink Diamond. Even if there was no clear way of sending such a missive, it was helping her to clarify some of her thoughts on what she had learned.

After her initial awkward session with the typesetting machine, she was managing to get to grips with some of its functions. For one thing, she had figured out how to print in lower case. Upon selecting a letter, a button could be pushed to increment its wheel by half a space, where the lower-case letter was situated between two capitals and otherwise unattainable. A smaller lever on one side of the device seemed to be related to this function, semi-incrementing all of the wheels at once, but Connie didn't trust the lever or herself enough to try using it in practice, as it seemed it would also convert her existing capitals to the wrong letters, not to mention what might happen to the spaces.

Technical difficulties aside, she thought about what she would like to ask Pink Diamond. There was the problem of growing enough food, and the closing down of settlements. On top of this, there was the question of people's lack of freedom to choose their own homes. And of course, the looming issue she couldn't even discuss with her own parents: the mistreatment of Amethyst, and gems like her.

Underpinning all of these questions, she had come to realise, was the most crucial one of all. Did Pink Diamond herself know about these problems, or were they somehow being concealed from her? And if she did know, then what did that mean? Was she somehow unable to help? Or unwilling?

While in the library, Connie also took the opportunity to teach herself some biology. She managed to find a page about organs in the science dictionary, but it only featured reams of text about some mythic wind-powered pianoforte. After racking her internal thesaurus, she instead looked under V for viscera. This was a little more useful, and enumerated some parts she was familiar with (heart, lungs) along with some she wasn't (what exactly was a spleen?)

I never realised how many organs are in the first half of the alphabet, she thought. It was such a pain having to work with only half a dictionary. Connie made a mental note to try the complementary volume at home when she got the chance.

At least there was a chance to unravel the mysteries of the spleen. She turned to the relevant page.

In some ways it was encouraging. According to the book, there had been some debate amongst human scientists as to the actual function of this organ, or whether it in fact served any function at all. There was a certain kind of sense to their arguments — there were two lungs and two kidneys, so an organ might well form purely for the sake of symmetry. The implications of this bore consideration. If there was indeed some redundancy in the arrangement of the human body, perhaps an attempt to locate the organic regulator might not be quite so dangerous as she had initially thought — in theory, at least. In practice, her own sense of self-preservation still had a lot to say on the matter. She flipped further through the S section, hopeful of some information on safe medical procedures.

SURGERY: see CHIRURGERY.

"Oh, come on," Connie said out loud.

If there were other tomes of knowledge located within the settlement, it was going to be difficult to ask about them without raising suspicion. Connie didn't feel comfortable about asking her parents, as they were too close to the investigation and might start making inferences from her sudden curiosity. She had already been fobbed off by Mrs Lezner after a similar enquiry.

Connie's mind then turned to the civic hall. Mr Dewey wasn't involved in the search for Amethyst, and he had written that play, so he must be reasonably well-read. Connie decided it couldn't hurt to go and ask, if she was subtle about it. After school, she made her way across to the square.

Unlike the glorified shack at Connie's old home, the civic hall in settlement B1C7 was an imposing structure, two storeys high and adorned with its impressive clock. Connie had always imagined the interior to be a hive of bureaucratic activity, but when she entered the building she merely found Barbara Miller, slouching at a desk and looking bored.

"Oh! Well hey, Connie," Barbara exclaimed, sitting up straight. The room was surrounded by wood panelling whose design made it difficult to tell which parts were doors. Behind, a staircase rose on the right and curved around out of view. Barbara smiled genially from behind her desk. "I can't believe it's already so long since you moved here. How are you all getting on?"

"Good afternoon, Mrs Miller," Connie politely replied. "We're doing fine, thank you. Well, I'm sure you already know from my parents."

"Sure, but it's good to hear it from you too. What can I do for ya?" Barbara smiled again, not concealing her slight puzzlement at Connie's presence.

Connie brought a hand up and agitated briefly at her own collar. "It's silly really, but I was looking for a book and it's not in the library... I wondered whether you kept any information on what books are in the settlement? Or would I just need to keep asking around?"

"Hah, funny you should ask that." Barbara leaned back in her chair. "But no, it's not something we formally keep track of. We're more concerned with resources that are kept in common. So I'd suggest asking around, but if it's not in the library then I'd say don't get your hopes up."

Connie nodded. "I see. Thanks anyway." There was a brief silence. "Why is it funny?"

"Huh?"

"I just... you said it was funny that I would ask?"

"Oh!" Barbara glanced around before giving an apologetic grimace. "It was only that your dad asked me something similar a while back."

This statement hung awkwardly in the air between them for a moment before Barbara took pity.

"So listen," she said, "if you want to tell me what it is you're looking for then I can tell you if I know about it?"

"It's a reference book," Connie gratefully explained. "A big dictionary of all kinds of information, but there's only one half of it in the library."

"Oh, that book," Barbara said. "Yeah, I can save you some trouble there. It's not here."

Connie's face fell. "Really?"

"'Fraid not. Dunno where that book came from, but we've definitely only ever had the one. The only other reference books we've got are a couple in Bill's collection" — she briefly jerked her head at the stairs — "and they're a lot more specialist. Super boring stuff, trust me."

"I see," said Connie. She gave a hopeful glance past Barbara. "Would it be possible to..."

"I'm afraid Mr Dewey can't be disturbed," Barbara interrupted, suddenly businesslike. "He's busy with some very important number-crunching."

"I see. Well, in that case... thanks for your help."

"Send my regards to your folks!" Barbara grinned, oblivious to Connie's disappointment.

Back outside, Connie found Jenny sitting on the public stage.

"Important meeting?" she asked when she saw Connie.

Connie was never sure how to respond to sarcasm. "I just went in to ask a question."

"I'm joking, silly." Jenny smirked down at Connie. "Let me guess, they were too busy to talk to you."

Connie nodded. "Well, Mr Dewey was."

"You picked the wrong time of year," Jenny explained. "Gotta add up all the harvests and work out the rations for winter. Except the numbers change with every field harvested and he has to start all over again. Don't know why they don't just wait until the end and do it all at once, but Buck says Mr Dewey's always done it this way."

Connie blinked, taking this in. "Maybe he wants to be absolutely sure it's correct?"

Jenny raised an eyebrow. "Maybe he wants to look busy."

"Has Buck ever said anything to him about it?" Connie asked.

Jenny leaned down with a conspiratorial grin. "You didn't hear it from me, but one time I heard a rumour that the Dewey family has lived here ever since the settlements began." She sat up again with an air of mock-sophistication. "Maybe even sooner. Perhaps that explains Mr Dewey living in the past."

Given the Diamond Authority's general methodology in running the settlements, Connie wasn't sure whether to believe this. Still, while other high-level members of the civic administration had recently been moved on, Mr Dewey was still here, so she couldn't discount it out of hand.

Either way, Connie was glad that Jenny had been comfortable sharing this information. "Can I ask you something?" she said.

"Sure," Jenny replied, appraising Connie with a regal stare.

"Did you supply a fish to Ronaldo recently? You or Kiki?"

Jenny's smile was forced. "I have no idea what you're talking about." She stared down at Connie, unblinking.

Connie began to worry she had misjudged Jenny's attitude. "Oh," she apologised, "I must have got the wrong end of... never mind, forget about it."

"Yes, let's."

"So..." Connie was eager to change the subject. "Are you meeting Buck here?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Jenny simply responded.

Connie was kicking herself about mentioning the fish. Ronaldo's potato machine was old news, but she'd still been curious whether he'd had help in creating it. Now Jenny was on the defensive, her goodwill evaporated. It was all Connie could do to stammer a few more empty platitudes before beating a retreat and going home. She resolved not to ask anyone about any sensitive topics from now on unless it could directly help with the Oracle situation.

The concise dictionary at home was, predictably, scant on detail. It seemed to Connie that the book was largely pitched toward readers who already knew the meanings of the words it defined. The liver, for example, (apart from as 'One who lives',) was only described as 'One of the entrails.' This was followed by some fancy Shakespeare quotes that did little to make up for the book's general uselessness. She cast it aside in disgust.

At a loss for any other way to continue her research, Connie patiently waited for a day when the windmill was not in use and she could make her way up there without drawing attention. She finally got her chance when most of the adults went off to harvest the last of the maize.

Picking her way up the hill, she wordlessly acknowledged a goat with a distinctive twist to its horn, whom she had nicknamed Connie Junior. Thus far she had found the creatures to be relatively docile, as long as you were careful not to stumble right on top of one as it hid in a dip in the terrain. Connie Junior bleated indignantly, then returned to chewing on a weed.

Inside the windmill, Connie looked around for the portable waxlight and made her way down into the secret stairway, being careful to shut the trapdoor behind her. At the bottom, she fumbled for her key and pushed open the door, knocking respectfully as she entered the murky room.

"Are you here?" she asked, stupidly. As she brought the light into the room, she was met with the odd sight of Amethyst lying flat on her front, propelling herself slowly across the floor with her feet.

Abruptly, the gem launched into a forward roll, landing in a sitting position. "Who's there?" she asked, cupping a hand to one ear.

"It's me, Connie, from... from before."

"Oh, hey, I remember," Amethyst greeted her, sounding tired but not unfriendly. She shuffled round to face the direction of Connie's voice. "The new one, right?"

"That's right," Connie affirmed. Then, hesitantly: "Uh... what were you doing?"

"Oh..." Amethyst looked slightly embarrassed. "I was just filling some time. Pretending to be a lizard."

Connie blinked. "A lizard?"

"I have to make my own entertainment in here, you know. And back in the day I used to enjoy transforming myself into different animals. Ever since my injury, the closest I can get is by pretending."

"Oh... sorry." Connie felt bad. "I wasn't making fun."

Seated on the floor with her knees almost to her chin, Amethyst seemed almost engulfed in her white robes. The effect emphasised the difference between her and her full-sized namesakes. She grinned up at Connie. "It's fine," she said, and turned to feel around for her wooden stool. "It's nice just to have a visitor." Sitting up on the three-legged seat, she faced Connie on her own level. "What can I do for you?"

"Well," Connie began, "I was wondering if you could tell me anything about human medical care."

Amethyst tilted her head. "How come? You guys haven't needed doctors for generations."

"And because of that, nobody knows anything about it any more. I'm just... interested." Connie didn't want to discuss her ruminations on the organic regulator, in case it gave Amethyst false hopes. "It's fascinating to me that they used to cut people open in order to help them. It just seems so... counterintuitive."

"Oh, yeah," Amethyst chuckled, "you had to be in a bad way if one of those quacks started sharpening up their knives. I'm sure they killed as many people as they cured." She brought her hands toward each other in a vague, claw-like gesture, grimacing. "First it was getting rid of spirits — or letting them in? Then it was all about having the wrong kind of humours. Of course, you're not much better off if all your humours leak out."

"So people would die when their humours ran out?" Connie shuddered. "It sounds awful."

Amethyst shrugged. "Well, yeah, but like I said, it was usually people who were already injured or dying. Sometimes the doctors could fix it. Organics are so complicated and messy," she mused. "When you think about it, it's kind of impressive they were able to do anything."

"Lucky for us we've got regulators now."

"I guess," Amethyst yawned.

"Have the gems always taken them back?" Connie asked. "The regulators, I mean."

"Yeah, they always come and, uh, dispose of people when they've died. Probably don't want you guys getting their technology."

"I suppose." Connie frowned. "It's kind of unfair, really, the technology thing. The more I think about it. I always took it for granted that we shouldn't have access to their technology because it'd be sort of cheating, like we'd jumped the queue. But really... why does that matter? If these types of clean, safe machines exist, why shouldn't we just have them?"

"Hey, if it was up to me," Amethyst grinned. "But my guess is, Pink Diamond saw how humans used to carry on with just their own technology, and decided it would be better if they didn't catch up."

Connie sighed. "It's weird how many things I just never thought about until I moved here."

"Meh, that's just natural," Amethyst assured her. "It's like, being way up too close to something makes it so you can't see it properly. It was exactly the same for me in my own situation. For the longest time I never even questioned why I couldn't be a part of gem society." She gripped the seat of her stool with one hand, leaning way over to the side. "I'm still not sure whether it's me or them that's got it wrong."

"Well, I think they're wrong," Connie emphasised. "And since they're wrong about that one thing, who's to say what else?"

Amethyst merely gave a vague nod of concession. There was a silence.

Connie opted to change the subject. "So, what sorts of creatures did you used to turn yourself into?"

A smile immediately broke out on Amethyst's face. "All sorts! It's a good way to play tricks. I was good at birds, I could fly around and listen in on people."

"You could fly!?" Connie was wide-eyed. "That's amazing! It must be wonderful to have the freedom of the skies."

"Yeah," Amethyst smugly confirmed, "it was. Sometimes I used to invent new animals to scare humans with, like a flying lizard, or a horse with a beak, or a shark with arms."

"Wow," Connie breathed, suitably impressed. "What's a shark?"

"Oh... it's a kind of fish that can eat people. Lives out in the ocean."

"Yikes. I guess that's why we stay away from there?"

"Nah, you'd have to be real unlucky to get eaten while you were out at sea," Amethyst said cheerfully. "More likely your boat would sink and you'd drown."

"See, this is what's confusing," Connie said. "Whenever I hear or read about life in the old days, it just sounds scary. I don't like how the Diamond Authority has been treating people, but I like being comfortable, and I like being safe. Am I a hypocrite, do you think?"

"Everyone's a hypocrite, if you ask me," Amethyst opined. "Except for the ones who were made perfect, and there's not so many of those. But no, I don't think that makes you a hypocrite. It just makes you..."

"Human?" Connie suggested.

"Eh, I don't think it's limited to just humans."

Connie considered this. "You think gems and humans have more in common than people suppose?"

"Well, yeah. Sure, you guys are less developed, but I never found anything that strange about dealing with humans, once you get past how they're made of weird squishy stuff. They're easy to get along with. It's just a shame you don't live longer, is all."

Connie couldn't help thinking of the Jasper who'd chased her off from her own home. "It'd be nice if more gems were willing to see us as equals."

"Hey, I didn't say equal," Amethyst smirked. "Trust me, I'm still slightly better than you. I should know, right?"

Connie couldn't help smiling. "Of course, you're the expert." she said. "Why, you've spent so much time with humans, you could even be declared an honorary human."

"Nuh-uh," Amethyst shook her head, her arms folded. "I don't want to pick a side."

"You're too late," Connie playfully taunted. "I'm declaring you an honorary human. Now you're my equal!"

"Nooo!" Amethyst groaned, collapsing theatrically from her stool. "Now I'll have to start cutting my hair, and stinking the place out with my frankly disgusting bodily functions."

"Hey!" Connie exclaimed, scandalised. Amethyst pulled a face at her.

The two of them dissolved into giggles. Whenever Connie tried to stop laughing, Amethyst carried on, and it kept setting her off again.

Eventually she composed herself. "Hah. This was fun. But I should probably go. I don't want to get back too late and have awkward questions to answer."

Amethyst nodded in understanding. "Safety first."

Connie was fumbling in her pocket for the key when a thought struck her.

"I'd like you to have this key, Amethyst," she said. "I don't know about the others, but I don't enjoy feeling like a jailer. Next time I come and visit, you can let me in yourself."

"Oh, it's fine," Amethyst waved her off, "if I needed to leave in a hurry I'd just bust out."

"Nevertheless," Connie insisted, "it'd make me feel better. Would you mind?"

Amethyst acquiesced with a shrug, and there was a brief interlude wherein Connie guided her to the door and made sure she could locate the keyhole. "It's primitive human technology," the gem protested, "I'm sure I can manage."

Connie stepped into the stairway, ready to take her leave. She turned back to Amethyst. "Uh, if anyone else comes to visit, maybe don't mention that I gave you that."

Amethyst gave a knowing nod. Then, she pushed her hair to one side and repeated the gesture, clarifying that it had been a wink. The door shut, and Connie waited until she heard the key turn in the lock before leaving.

She descended the hill in a positive mood. Sure, she hadn't really learned anything useful, but Amethyst was the only person she could talk openly with who wasn't far too serious all the time. It was the first time since moving to the settlement that she hadn't felt like she had to watch what she said, and a tension she hadn't realised she was carrying had temporarily lifted.

As she stepped between some shrubs, her foot hit fur and she tripped right over Connie Junior. There was a vengeful bleat, and Connie had to dodge a couple of lazy charges from the beast before it lost interest. Connie backed away, apologising pointlessly.

On one occasion, she had been chased halfway down the hill by Connie Junior. Either the goat was learning to tolerate her, or there was something wrong with it. In the spirit of optimism, Connie chose to believe the former.