Connie's worries that it wouldn't be clear what had happened were unfounded: the boardwalk was still very much a hive of activity. It quickly became apparent to Connie that the Frymans' shop had been the subject of the raid, and she had to pause on the periphery of the scene to consider the implications. It certainly wasn't a good omen.
Various interested residents were standing around exchanging gossip. Mr Fryman was in quiet conference with Mr Pita out front of their respective manufactories. Ronaldo could be seen pacing up and down, agitated. It didn't seem wise trying to talk to him with all these people around, but on the other hand, time was of the essence.
Connie weaved her way through the small crowd to the front of the potato manufactory. She overheard a comment about it being "ridiculous targeting that family again" — either the speaker didn't notice Connie, or had no interest in censoring their own opinions.
"If you need help tidying your stock," Mr Pita was saying, "don't hesitate to ask. I will send Jenny or Kiki to help at once. This could have happened to either of us." Noticing Connie, he clammed up until she had walked past. So, she mentally counted off the options: this was simply solidarity between food vendors, or Mr Fryman knew exactly why he had been targeted and was keeping Mr Pita in the dark, or they were both in on the conspiracy and covertly discussing it in broad daylight. She shook her head — how had she gotten so paranoid?
When he saw her approaching, Ronaldo caught her eye and gave a minute but intense shake of his head. A stern glance gestured further down the boardwalk, indicating that she should keep moving.
"Not now," he whispered, slightly too loud. "Later," he added as she passed him by. Nobody appeared to pay any attention to the surreptitious interaction, and when Connie risked a glance back, rounding the corner, Ronaldo had gone back inside.
She was at a loss what to do next. There was little point in maintaining their discretion given the current circumstances, but it would do little good trying to convince the Frymans of this. Perhaps she could come back later on, when things had quietened down. Or else, she would just have to wait until tomorrow to confide in them. And tell them... what? That it was over, that they were doomed? It was too large a burden to carry alone.
At once, she remembered there was someone else she could confide in. Her aimless trudge gained direction and momentum as she veered first toward the stables, before passing them to mount the hill leading to the windmill. The sails were locked and she could not easily be spotted approaching from this direction. It was, she reasoned, a calculated risk. She stuck close to the fence on her left, tasting salt in the air as the sea crashed against rocks below.
After a cautious exploration of the mill, Connie determined that she was indeed alone, and carefully made her way to the secret basement. There, she gave three rapid taps on the door.
"Just a moment," Amethyst's voice came from within. There was a muffled rustling sound, followed by a quiet scraping on the other side of the door. It continued for a few moments before Amethyst spoke up again. "Uh, got a slight problem... oh wait, here it is." There was a mechanical twang as the key engaged with the lock, and the door was pulled open.
Amethyst greeted Connie with a wry grin. "Welcome to my lair."
"Thank you," Connie politely responded. Entering the room, she added, "I'm glad the key is working out," largely so that Amethyst would be able to hear she was through the door. The gem pushed the door to and found her seat.
Connie stared intently as her eyes adjusted to the gloom. A few beams of faint light shone through where the floorboards above were too far apart. It didn't seem worth striking a light when Amethyst wouldn't benefit. The gem was now sitting on her stool, her head tilted keenly in Connie's direction. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything?" Connie asked her.
"Nah, I was just doing some thinking," Amethyst vaguely replied.
"I see." There was a brief pause, and she felt she should explain: "It's just me again, the others couldn't make it. Um, the two boys I was here with before," she clarified, suddenly realising Amethyst might not know who Connie was referring to. "Do you..?" The words died on her lips. She had been about to ask whether other humans also came to visit, curious whether PeeDee and Ronaldo had entrusted others with the location. In the moment, she realised that her eagerness to know the identities of their co-conspirators was exceeded only by her desire to embrace the relative safety of ignorance.
Besides, Amethyst wasn't big on learning names, so perhaps she wouldn't even know.
"So," Amethyst shrugged, filling the silence, "you got more questions for me?"
"There's so much I don't know," Connie admitted, "but I don't know what to ask. I came here because..." Again she trailed off awkwardly. Was it really fair, to come here just to unburden herself? How would it actually help Amethyst, to know that the net was closing in? To spend her remaining days in fear and resignation?
"I bet people always ask you the same things," she said instead. "Have you heard a lot of the same questions, over the years?"
"Yep," Amethyst confirmed, "including that one. Hah!"
Connie let out a quiet chuckle of mock-chagrin. "I guess we humans are more alike than we realise. Well, what's the most common question?"
"People always want to know what life was like back in the old days. I mean, even back in the old days they wanted to know what it was like before that. Works out for me because at least I was there, I can kind of answer it. It was tougher way back when they used to ask me stuff about how to fight their wars and run their societies. It's not like I know much about anything like that, so I mostly just used to keep it vague and let them draw their own conclusions. Pretty dumb but it usually seemed to work. I think it's the blind thing." She pulled aside the unruly tuft of hair covering her left eye, and subjected Connie to an empty stare by way of demonstration. "For some reason it makes people assume you're wise."
"It might also be the gem thing," Connie ventured, still unclear on the etiquette of disagreeing with Amethyst. "I always assume any gem knows a lot more than I do. It's been nice to get to know you, because I'd never thought of a gem as someone you could have a conversation with and be... well, kind of equal. It helps to see you as... I don't want to say 'more human,' because that doesn't really make sense."
"Well... thanks?" Amethyst replied. "I'm gonna take it as a compliment, unless you were just calling me stupid."
"Oh no, not that," Connie hastily protested, before seeing Amethyst's smirk. "Oh, ha-ha, but yes, it is a compliment. And it's made me think about some other gems, and about how maybe they're not as powerful as we like to think." She thought of Zircon's quiet despair, and the implied hierarchical pressure bearing down on her.
"Well, you know my opinion on gems and humans. It's mostly down to perspective. I bet if I could only live for a few decades, I'd turn out pretty much like you guys."
"You're already plenty like us — don't forget you're an honorary human," Connie laughed, before the sobering thought of the audit intruded on her mind again. "Um, when this is all over... I mean, even if it's years and years from now, if there's a way to set you free... what would you do? What would you most want to do?"
Amethyst reclined slightly, her head lolling back. "I'd go outside," she said. "I really miss the outside, the wind, the warmth from the sun." She had the wistful tone of someone reluctantly indulging an impossible longing, and Connie felt a little guilty — but still, it was important to know more about what was at stake. Amethyst continued: "I wish I could spend time with other Amethysts. Properly, as myself, without higher-ups there to sniff out imperfection. I'd like to talk to them about stuff."
"What kind of stuff?" Connie asked.
Amethyst sighed. "I want to know if they'd accept me the way I really am."
"I'm sure they would." It felt important to back up this reassurance with concrete evidence. "I've met a few Amethysts. An Amethyst brought us here to this settlement. I was feeling a bit overwhelmed at the time so I didn't say much, but she was nice to us. The ones who bring deliveries, too, they remind me of you. You've all been friendly. I don't think you're any different from them, so how could they have any problem with that?"
"Thanks," the gem smiled. "Ugh, I try not to think about those kind of things too much. Talk about something else, take my mind off of it."
Connie was momentarily stumped. Not knowing what else to talk about, she could just tell Amethyst about her day. But there wasn't much to tell without revealing how close the Diamond Authority was to finding her. "I was helping out at the stables earlier. That's kind of fun. Most of the harvests are in by now so there's not really much going on. I was just chatting with Mr DeMayo about books and stuff. I'd been looking for a particular book and it turned out he'd heard of it too."
"Oh yeah?" Amethyst interrupted. "Which book? I might know it, people used to read books to me."
"Um, it's about a man called Lemuel Gulliver who travels around lots of places."
"Yeah, I remember that one." Amethyst waved one hand in an outward gesture. "Everyone was reading it. You really don't have a copy here?"
Connie stared intently at the gem, who didn't seem to think this revelation important. "Can you remember any of it?"
"I should hope so, I must have heard the whole thing at least five times. You want me to tell you some?"
Connie enthusiastically agreed, whereupon Amethyst launched into a concise and somewhat disjointed retelling of the main story points of the novel. Connie at first interjected only to keep Amethyst from getting distracted or repeating herself, but as the tale unfolded, she couldn't help commenting on some of the symbolism underlying certain storylines. These discussions tended toward the one-sided, as Connie volunteered her own interpretation of plot points that Amethyst had only ever taken at face value. ("If that was what it meant, why wouldn't they just say it?" Amethyst protested.)
Still, it was hard not to acknowledge metaphors when they were so transparent. The people of Lilliput were clearly a criticism of humanity's war-like tendencies, their conflicts having no basis in logic or morality. Next, the giants Gulliver encountered in Broblaham (Amethyst kept garbling the name) gave a close-up look at the physical imperfections of organic life-forms, repulsive in magnification.
Gulliver's next destination, Laputa, was obvious in its significance. A civilisation with the ability to suspend a vast island in the sky through unknown science, with superior understanding of mathematics and music. Beneath them, a land made desolate by its own inhabitants' misapplication of science and technology. The resemblance to the gems' vantage point over humanity's folly was uncanny, and it was fascinating to have it confirmed that even back then, people like the author of this book had understood humanity was losing its way.
There was the cautionary tale of the land where some humans were born immortal, but instead of staying forever young, spent their endless years afflicted with the difficulties of old age. This, Connie reasoned, was a warning not to envy the gems their immortality. For a human to live forever would be in some ways a prison.
Finally, she listed raptly as Amethyst retold the tale of the Hoonems, the intelligent horses that had had such an unconscious influence on Greg. In the story, Gulliver assumed the ravenous violent Yahoos to be wild animals, and only when viewing them up close did he realise they were human just like him. As she heard more about the Hoonems, Connie was struck by yet more uncanny parallels.
"Was this really written before Pink Diamond's intervention?" she asked Amethyst.
"Sure, yeah." Amethyst was puzzled by the interruption.
"It's just... well, the Yahoos are humans and the Hoonems are gems, right?"
Amethyst's face showed pitying incomprehension. "Uh, the Hoonems are horses."
"Yes, but... there's different types of horses, and the ones of each type all have the same abilities and role in society. Isn't that basically the same as gems?"
"I mean, kinda. But they don't live any longer than humans, and they raise children."
Connie was reluctant to concede the point. "Well... just supposing for the moment that they represent gems. Doesn't it seem strange? They herd the humans like animals and put them to work. Then they're trying to find a peaceful way to get rid of the humans, and decide to stop them from breeding." She shook her head in wonderment. "It's just so similar to the situation on Earth now, or to the worst interpretation of it. And yet the author seemed to think we deserve it, because of how we are. So was this a coded... prediction? A warning?"
Amethyst gave a lopsided smile. "I think you've been spending too much time with those others. It wasn't like today, if people wanted to write about gems they'd just say so. Believe it or not," she wryly added, "people spent most of their time thinking about other stuff."
Connie nodded. "That's what Mr DeMayo thought too. You think I'm just seeing patterns because I've been thinking about these things so much?"
"Maybe," Amethyst shrugged.
"I guess nobody could ever have predicted what the gems would do," Connie mused, half to herself. "But if it was really like in the book, they could have stopped us from having children at all. We'd have been gone more than a hundred years ago. And it's not like we work for the gems, either. The only work we do is for ourselves."
"The Hoonems put them to work for their own good," Amethyst mischievously pointed out.
"However many ways I turn it all over, I just can't come up with an explanation that makes sense," Connie sighed. "It's plain exhausting."
Amethyst was sympathetic. "Aw, well, you took my mind off things for a bit. It feels like nobody ever comes here just to visit, so thanks."
Connie realised she'd forgotten all about her original purpose. It was probably for the best — in a way, her mind had been taken off things too. Now she found herself once again dwelling on Amethyst's precarious situation. There was something she had to ask.
"You don't have to answer this, but... would you want to be free even if it meant someone got hurt?"
Amethyst sat motionless, resting her chin on one hand. After a moment, she asked: "Do you hurt flies?"
Connie was somewhat thrown by the question. A jar of apple vinegar on the kitchen windowsill at home was cloudy with drowned insects, but she decided it would be counterproductive to mention this. "I don't torment them," she said. "I'll chase one off if it's getting at my food, but I don't go out of my way to hurt them."
Amethyst nodded. "Did you ever have one crawl on you, and go to flick it away, but then you realise you squished it by mistake?"
"Yes," Connie had to admit, "I suppose that has happened." She studied Amethyst's expression, hoping this wasn't the wrong answer.
"Did you feel bad?" the gem bluntly asked.
"Well... maybe for a few moments, but..."
"...it's just a fly," Amethyst nodded. "They die in the winter anyway. See, I think that's how a lot of gems would feel about any organic life, humans included." She smiled ruefully. "It's different when you've lived with the flies, and accepted their help and shelter."
"I hope there's more setting us apart from flies," Connie said, "but I think I understand."
"But it's easy for me to say that," Amethyst finally admitted, "when it's just a question. The truth is, if I really had a chance to escape the Diamond Authority for good? I don't know what I'd be prepared to do." She shrugged. "Maybe one day I'll find out, and then I'll get to live with it. Heh."
So as well as everything else, there was Amethyst's conscience to bear in mind. The gem's expression was hard to make out beyond the resigned smile, and Connie realised the light was failing. She'd been here longer than she originally intended. She was about to make her excuses and head out, when another thought struck her.
"Next time I come back, I don't think you should answer the door regardless. It's not safe unless you're certain who's there."
Amethyst shrugged as she made her way to open the door. "Who else would it be?"
"I'll give a special knock," Connie said, trying to think of a good example. "Three quiet and one loud. Or... two slow and one fast." She frowned. What if someone knocked in the same pattern by sheer coincidence? "No, wait. On second thoughts... I'll just say it's me."
"See, that's better," Amethyst smiled. "You're thinking like a normal person." She fumbled to give Connie a sympathetic pat on the arm. "You've got to keep some perspective, right? Rattle the bars too hard and you'll go crazy."
The sun was edging its way to the horizon as Connie made her way back down the hill, and she realised how much time she had spent in the windmill. She shivered as a chill wind blew in from the sea. She needed to get home before her parents started wondering where she was, but she also needed to find out what had happened at Mr Fryman's shop. She continued into the settlement at a brisk pace, and to her relief found that the boardwalk had quietened down, people's curiosity being usurped by their dinner plans.
The hatch to the potato manufactory was shut. A hand-written notice pinned to the door read 'CLOSED DUE TO UNFORESEEN CIRCUMSTANCES'. There was a lot of activity audible in the adjacent cafeteria — Mr Pita must be busy.
Connie's fist hovered awkwardly near the door before she gave a surreptitious knock. After a few moments without any response, she knocked more forcefully, glancing up and down the boardwalk.
At last, there was a sound of footsteps and the door creaked open. "Connie!" Ronaldo exclaimed. "Where on earth were you? This is really bad. Quick, come inside." Without another word, he marched to the back of the kitchen and Connie felt she had no choice but to follow.
The kitchen area was in a real mess. The pots and pans had been piled into stacks on the dead stove, but it was readily apparent that a full pan of frying potato wedges had been knocked all across the floor. Some of it had been mopped up, but there was still a giant slippery patch across the tiles, and large greasy footprints leading through into the next room.
The store room had been ransacked, and loose potatoes spilled ankle-deep into the small dining area. PeeDee sat morosely at the table. He gave Connie a look which remained glum, but seemed at least to acknowledge her as not being the source of his troubles. Ronaldo stood at the other end of the room, leaning with his fists on the tabletop.
"This little visit shows two things," he announced. "They suspect me, which is bad, and they've hit on the idea of searching utility buildings, which is worse. We're almost out of time."
"What happened in there?" Connie asked, gesturing to the kitchen. "Why was the stuff all on the floor? Did they do that?"
PeeDee waved his arm in a broad lateral arc. "I think one of the Jaspers just knocked it when they were coming through. You've seen how big they are, and it's not as if they were trying their best to keep things tidy."
"I could smell it on her," Ronaldo grimly intoned. "That was boiling vegetable oil. You've no idea how tough they are. And now they've come in here and wrecked everything."
"That's a real shame," Connie commiserated.
PeeDee was philosophical. "If anything, we should be surprised this didn't happen sooner. They were never able to prove anything last time, but I'll bet they never stopped suspecting us."
"This is personal," Ronaldo hissed. "They've ruined my experiments. My soil samples? All destroyed, they smashed all the jars. That was years of work — years! Why do that unless I was getting too close to the truth?"
"Was there anything incriminating down there?" Connie asked, hesitant. She decided she would refuse any invitation to tour a dark cellar littered with dirt and broken glass.
"I don't think we'd still be here if there was," PeeDee pointed out. "The metal rods from Ronaldo's fish experiment were still down there, but... it's just some metal. They didn't touch them."
"Scant consolation!" Ronaldo snorted.
"Is there anything I can do to help?"
Ronaldo stared at her coldly. "What you could have done to help was find out this was coming, and warn us. That's the whole reason you're here, but I'm sorry to say your whole contribution to this enterprise so far has been nil."
"Oh, so you don't want my news?" Connie sarcastically retorted. She was sorely tempted to keep the information to herself, but yielded to the frustrating beckon of the greater good. "It's not exactly easy to get information from the gems without them knowing, but that's what I've been doing. That's what I've done. But I can just leave — I mean, if you don't want my help any more."
"Don't go," PeeDee quietly implored. "What have you been able to learn?" He looked tired and hopeful, and Connie regretted her outburst.
"It's... not good. They're taking tome to gather some forces, and then it sounds like they're going to come and search... everywhere. I think they're just going to guard everyone while they search the entire settlement from top to bottom. She called it an audit."
"Hmm," Ronaldo considered this. (He did not, Connie noticed, thank her or apologise for his comment.)
"Can they do that?" PeeDee asked his brother.
"It sounds... very unusual." He addressed Connie: "Are you sure that's what you heard? What were her precise words?"
"It... They didn't explain the whole thing, I only heard part of the conversation. And I could tell they've discussed it before, my dad's been trying to stop it from happening. But she called it an audit, she said she needed time to get gems and 'robonoids', and she said it'd make people unhappy."
"That could mean a lot of things," Ronaldo pointed out with a modicum of tact.
"She sounded absolutely certain that this would be the end of it. That they'd find her." Connie shrugged. "I'd love to know what else it could mean."
Ronaldo had one hand to his forehead, squinting in deep thought. "It's only that policing of the settlements is meant to be carried out by the peacekeeper with minimal intervention from the Diamond Authority. We know this stuff from our mom," he explained.
PeeDee was quietly incredulous. "I get it, Ronaldo, but do you really put this past them? You know they'd make an exception for the Oracle. All those rules are only for their benefit."
"Well... maybe," Ronaldo conceded. "At least it could mean we still have a little time to plan."
"There's some more I found out, too," Connie continued, "about the settlements. They cycle people in and out of settlements because the populations are too small to sustain themselves. So you were right, the number of people must be much lower than in the old days."
Ronaldo nodded solemnly. "Just as in my theories."
"They've done a lot of research on small populations." She shook her head. "I don't know what to think any more." It was true — her head was spinning with irreconcilable viewpoints. Ronaldo's so-called theories were absurd, yet contained kernels of plausibility that were insidiously compelling.
"I think we need to keep our focus on the Oracle," said PeeDee.
"That's correct," said Ronaldo. "We can't keep the Oracle where she is because we know now that they're not restricting themselves to houses. But I had a brainwave today." He flashed a triumphant grin. "We've missed something important. We know by now Zircon has raided a bunch of houses, with no results. So what do those households have in common?"
Connie tried to remember all of the locations that had been searched, but she didn't know everybody that well and it was difficult to identify a common denominator.
Ronaldo smiled again. "They're all above suspicion. Right? They've already been searched, so it's common knowledge that they're innocent."
PeeDee looked dubious. "So you're saying..?"
Ronaldo nodded. "Precisely. We hide her in a house that's already been searched. Lars's house, to pick an example at random. The gems are big on efficiency, so no doubt they'll skip over it even if they do carry out this 'audit'."
Connie appealed to reason. "You can't possibly know that. Besides, why would anybody agree to it?"
"You're not seeing it, though," Ronaldo continued, "they don't have to agree. We can simply sneak into Lars's house — or whoever — when they're not home, and conceal the gemstone somewhere innocuous. It's better for them that way, because if they don't know she's there then they can't incriminate themselves."
Connie was losing patience. "So this person assumes all of the risk without even having any choice in the matter. And I notice you keep bringing up Lars."
"Only as an illustrative example," Ronaldo protested. "It's as valid an option as any," he added, defensively.
"Lars doesn't deserve that. It's completely unfair. And it'll never work, I said they're looking everywhere!"
"You said you think they're looking everywhere."
"And I don't know why you ever brought me in on this if you don't care what I have to say!"
"Guys," PeeDee interrupted. Something in his manner commanded their attention. "Listen: I agree with Connie. It's not a good plan." (Ronaldo looked momentarily crestfallen.) "But we don't have anything else. If we're going to come up with something better, we need to come up with it soon. Like, in the next day or two. We can't leave her up there much longer."
Ronaldo raised an eyebrow. "I'm... open to further suggestions."
"If you're so convinced of your theory," Connie wearily responded, "you should be hiding her in here."
"You're misrepresenting my plan," he haughtily admonished her. "Obviously it wouldn't work here, the Diamond Authority considers me an enemy. PeeDee and I have our own well-being to consider."
"That's it?" Connie asked, stunned. "All your big plans about opposing the Diamond Authority, and when it comes down to it you can only think about protecting yourself?"
"It's precisely because of my plans that I need to protect myself. For the preservation of my knowledge."
"And what about Amethyst? Who's looking out for her well-being? You're going to get her caught."
"I'm doing my level best to protect the Oracle," Ronaldo snapped. "You've yet to offer anything but baseless conjecture and attacks on my good character. If you're really not prepared to take a risk after everything I've shown you, then maybe it's best we part ways. For your safety," he added with mock-chivalry.
"PeeDee?" Connie appealed to her classmate. "You're not going to go along with this?"
PeeDee gesticulated helplessly, hesitant to speak. "I don't know," he managed, "I... I just don't know."
"I'm sorry about what happened to your mom," she addressed them, trying to control her voice, "but you've got the wrong priorities. It's given you this crazy idea about fighting the Diamond Authority, and you know that can't work, right? You must know. I don't know what the solution is, but using Amethyst as a mascot for some imaginary rebellion is just endangering her and everyone in the settlement. You're keeping her locked up like... like a trophy, when it's just made this situation inevitable. I... I think she can be healed, if we just put our heads together and figure out..."
"That won't be happening." Ronaldo glared at her. "Give me back your key."
"...What?" Seeing Ronaldo's expression, she realised too late the danger of reasoning with a madman. She steeled herself. "I don't have it with me."
"Of course not," Ronaldo scoffed. "Hand it over. Our association is at an end."
"I'm serious," Connie retorted, a suppressed rage in her voice. "I hid it. How would it look if I got caught carrying it around?"
"I don't believe you. Turn out your pockets."
PeeDee, still mired in his aura of misery, spoke up. "For goodness' sake, Ronaldo, look at her. She's telling the truth."
"Well then," Ronaldo sneered, not taking his eyes from Connie, "we'll just have to move the Oracle even sooner. And don't worry, we won't be endangering your friend Lars. I won't burden you with the knowledge of where we really take her. You can go back to being a hapless gull of the Diamond Authority."
Connie knew better than to stick around when Ronaldo was being so unreasonable. "Don't worry, I'm leaving! PeeDee, if you have any decency, you'll try and talk some sense into him." She stared back at Ronaldo's impassive visage from the doorway, determined to have the last word. "Good luck with your... stupid potatoes!" she exclaimed, and ran out.
In the fading light of the settlement, Connie's anger and frustration at the inadequacy of her parting shot rapidly gave way to a quiet despair. There was no way out. In a few days, the gems would sweep the settlement. They would find Amethyst. There would be repercussions against anyone found to have been helping her — and really, how much proof would they demand? Even as she condemned Ronaldo's loss of nerve, she suspected he was too late to save himself. Once they had a hold of Amethyst, there would be no need for any restraint. They could easily round up anyone who had been making waves and ship them off to the other side of the world.
In this fatalistic mood she arrived home, to an immediate interrogation from her parents wanting to know why she was so late.
"We went to the stables and Mr DeMayo said you'd left hours ago. We've been worried sick. Where on earth have you been?"
Ordinarily Connie would have been blindsided by their ire, but in the current situation it barely registered. She gazed back up into their stern faces, her mind still on Amethyst. "I was at Onion's house. Vidalia was showing me some of her paintings and I just lost track of the time."
"Well, that's no excuse," her mother admonished. "You should be more considerate to other people's feelings."
Connie mumbled an apology and submitted to her punishment: supper alone in the dining room, before being sent to bed early. There would be worse to come when they inevitably checked with Vidalia tomorrow and saw through Connie's improvised cover story. Or perhaps Vidalia would look kindly on Connie and play along. Right now, it scarcely seemed to matter either way.