Later, Connie lay in bed fully dressed. She was waiting for her parents to go to sleep so she could sneak out. She had opened her curtains, and the moon shone in to illuminate her bookshelves. There were still titles she had yet to even take off the shelf — some of them because they seemed less interesting to her, but beyond that she simply didn't want to exhaust her potential reading material too quickly. Even with the availability of the library, these here were the books that would sustain her over years to come. Supposing, of course, that it was her fate to remain here.

Once the sounds of murmured conversation from her parents' room had ceased, Connie waited some more. When at last she felt enough time had passed, she crept out from under the covers and checked her pockets. Stepping to the door, she pulled it open slowly and carefully. She then crouched outside the room closing the door just as laboriously, her eyes shut tight to pre-emptively adjust to the darkness.

All was quiet in the stairwell, and in the stillness of the house she could hear the ticking of the clock from the open door of the drawing room. Using the bannister as a spacial anchor, she counted her way down the stairs.

In the hallway, she sat on the bottom step to pull on her shoes. Her breathing was measured and her every movement slow and deliberate, as if she were under water. She had decided, in the end, not to use the front door. Going out via the allotment would put more space between her point of egress and her sleeping parents.

The streets of B1C7 were empty, with the distant rumble of the ocean faintly audible through the silence. Connie darted from building to building, conscious that she could be visible to some insomniac at their bedroom window. She weaved her way through the settlement in a more or less direct route to the hill of the peninsula.

Tonight was her final chance. By tomorrow, the trick with the keys would land her in trouble no matter what. She pulled her coat about herself as she emerged from the buildings and was exposed to the winds coming in from the beach. Moonlight tipped a parabola of waves facing Connie. She found the ocean fascinating — there was an inexorable pull to the treacherous black waters that simultaneously warned you away. Beyond the darkened windows of the bakery, she carefully climbed the gate to the fenced-off area leading to the windmill.

Roughly speaking, the Idea ran as follows: perhaps the organic regulator contained a portion of Pink Diamond's power within it, or perhaps it was a medium through which the power was somehow transmitted externally. Either way, for it to be active throughout a human's entire lifespan would require a tremendous amount of power. It was only recently that she had come to see that gems might be just as fallible as people. This had brought with it the realisation that protecting the thousands of conquered humans at all hours of the day might have been too much even for the almighty Pink Diamond. So, what if the regulator were instead to remain dormant until it detected a source of harm, and only then draw upon its mysterious power source? If this were the case, it would mean Connie could activate its healing properties at will.

In a hollow in the land she found a cluster of sleeping goats. To one side, the warped horn of Connie Junior turned up as the creature shifted its weight. Lying against it were...

"Oh my goodness," Connie exclaimed in a whisper, "you're a parent!" A pair of kids nestled against the dormant beast.

Connie considered this. "I guess from now on I have to call you Connie Junior Senior."

Heartened by this display of unfettered biology, she continued resolutely up the hill, stepping through shrubs and thistles. Distant stars vanished one by one behind the imposing structure of the windmill as she drew near. Up close it was possible to hear the sails straining against the wind, over the sound of waves crashing on the cliffs below. Reaching the steps, she found a welcome respite from the breeze in the lee of the structure.

The door opened with a creak and Connie stepped into the darkened mill. For a moment, the wind changed direction and the door funnelled a violent gust into the building, buffeting Connie's coat against her. It would be best to close the door, but it was hard enough to see anything in the gloom. Before anything else, she needed to find that portable waxlight.

Connie froze in shock as she heard a noise inside the room.

She couldn't identify what she'd heard. It had been a brief, sharp report — possibly metallic. She stood absolutely still as she tried to figure out where the sound had come from.

Clink. There it was again. She didn't dare make a sound, turning her eyes to the various indistinct shapes that made up the grist mill. The sound was quieter than she had at first thought, but in the dark stillness of night it was deeply concerning.

Clink. It was coming from somewhere above her. Looking up, she saw a square patch of ceiling that was darker than its surrounding planks. Like an optical illusion it suddenly resolved itself into a trapdoor leading to the upper floors, and she realised she could see what was hanging down from above: a looped chain, used for lifting bulky objects upstairs. Set into almost imperceptible motion by the movement of air from outside, the links were knocking against one another in a slow rhythm.

Clink. Clink. Clink.

Connie let out the breath she had been holding, and with it a burst of silent, hysterical laughter. Her heart was racing. By now accustomed to the darkness, she located the detachable waxlight, and wasted no time in lighting it so she could dispel the darkness and with it her nervous thoughts. Next, she opted to shut the door before it could introduce any more troubling noises. With the room rendered familiar once more, she felt secure in making her way downstairs.

She was reluctant to try the door in case she found it unlocked and the room empty. It would be unbearable to find out all at once. Instead she rapped gently yet insistently on the wood.

"It's Connie," she announced in a loud whisper. Then, realising there was no reason to be so quiet, she repeated herself at a normal speaking volume. "It's Connie. May I come in?"

After a moment's worrying silence, there was a sound of movement from within. "Just a sec," came Amethyst's voice. Moments later, the key scraped in the lock and the door swung open.

"Thank goodness," Connie gushed, "you're still here!"

Amethyst wore an expression of genuine puzzlement. "Uh, yeah. You caught me just before my daily outing to go somersaulting through the town streets. Where else was I gonna be?"

"Sorry," Connie sighed, "there's been a lot going on that I haven't told you about. You can decide for yourself whether that was wrong. But it's also why I'm here now." Realising that the significance of this statement probably wasn't clear, she elaborated: "It's, uh, the middle of the night."

"Ooh, breaking curfew! Me likey. Well, come on in."

Predictably, nothing had changed in Amethyst's room. Connie went to set the waxlight down upon a crate, and crossed the room to light its counterpart on the wall. Twin shadows flickered in opposite directions from Amethyst, who had perched upon her stool.

The diminutive gem turned from side to side, trying to triangulate Connie's location. "So, uh, what's the big news that couldn't wait?"

Connie wondered for a moment how much to tell her. "Well, for one thing, the Diamond Authority is closing in. Which I guess we already told you? But it's serious now."

Amethyst was sceptical. "Sounded pretty serious before."

"It's so serious," Connie continued, "that we've come to a fundamental disagreement over what we should do next. I'm afraid Ronaldo and I have fallen out."

"Pssh, humans and their little dramas. Is he that guy who talks more than he listens?"

It didn't feel like a time for diplomacy. "Yeah, kind of. He's come up with a plan which I'm convinced will backfire and get you caught."

Amethyst sighed. "I've been living on borrowed time for thousands of years. There's no such thing as a foolproof plan, believe me. You might want to cut the guy a little slack, you guys's lives are so short to spend them fighting with each other."

"I... guess that's a valid point," Connie conceded. In failing to find common ground, perhaps she herself had become an exemplar of humanity's flaws. On the other hand, Ronaldo was clearly wrong and refused to listen to reason, so it was easy to see both sides of this point. "My behaviour may have been a bit... human, at times, but only because so much is at stake. I couldn't forgive myself if you came to harm because I failed to do enough to help."

"Oh!" Amethyst looked somewhat abashed. "That's nice, but I'm sure you've done plenty. So what's your idea, if you didn't like Romaldo's?"

"Well. Um." Connie looked around. "I don't really like to say. I mean, I don't want to give you a false idea of... I mean, I'm just scared of tempting fate."

"You're making less sense than usual," Amethyst complained. "Give me a clue at least?"

Connie collected herself. "Instead of telling you, is it all right if I show you?" She went back over to the wall where the disused tools were hanging, and collected the blade intended for discorporating Amethyst.

"You can try," Amethyst smirked, "but I'm not much of a visual learner. What are you doing?"

"Just, um, hold still, please. Everything's fine, I just need to..."

What Connie needed was to focus. It was one thing to formulate her plan, but to carry it out meant ignoring her own most fundamental instincts. She held the knife in her right hand, wincing in anticipation. Then, before she could change her mind, she jabbed its tip into her left palm and scored a line across it.

At first she felt nothing, and assumed she hadn't pressed hard enough. But moments later, the line expanded outward with a dark red ooze, and her hand resonated with a stinging pain. As quickly as possible, she clamped the bloody palm to Amethyst's damaged gem, engendering a startled exclamation.

"Sorry!" Connie kept her hand in place, waiting for the throbbing ache to subside. "I just have to, uh, do this. For a little while."

"Uhh... this is weird," Amethyst pointed out.

Connie could feel each heartbeat wracking her wounded palm. Memories of a hundred scraped knees when she was a young child playing unaccompanied. As then, she found herself gradually numbed to the unpleasant sensations until the pain finally dissipated, leaving only a memory of itself. She pulled her hand away, flexing it cautiously. Underneath the drying blood, the skin was by now unbroken. Heedless of the effect on her sleeve, she swiftly wiped it across Amethyst's stained gemstone, cleaning it off as best she could.

When she saw that the hairline fracture in the gem was no longer there, she didn't know what to think. She was suddenly aware that the greater part of her mind had never really accepted that this could work, and was consequently at a loss how to react.

It was Amethyst who broke the silence. "I feel... what is this?"

Connie looked into the gem's face. Amethyst gave a shudder of effort and, in a display which was not entirely pleasant to look at, the pupils of her eyes came into view from beyond her upper eyelids, settling into position almost as if the eyeballs had been turned the wrong way round all these centuries.

She blinked a few times, squinting hard. Then she stared at Connie in pure amazement.

"You did it." It was half a question, half a statement. The gem looked down at herself and climbed off her seat, stretching her limbs. "You did it?"

She brought her hands forward in an arc to grab Connie's upper arms. "You did it!" She laughed, almost hysterical. "You did it! What did you do!?"

Connie gave a nervous smile. "Ta-dah," she said, and suddenly found that her eyes were wet with tears which she had to blink away.

Amethyst, taut with excitement, began jumping up and down on the spot, lifting Connie with her. She took them on a bunny-hopping circuit of the room, laughing all the while, until Connie could do nothing else but join in.

Suddenly the gem released her grip on Connie's shoulders, and cartwheeled over to her straw pile. Connie took a turn to sit on the stool, her head spinning.

"So." Amethyst thrust her arms out as if halting intruders on both sides, businesslike. "Let me check. How many fingers am I holding up?" She brought her right hand in, brandishing three fingers in front of her own face. "Three. Good."

Next, her hand shot out and, in an uncanny trick of perspective, went straight past Connie to the other side of the room while Amethyst herself stood still. The elongated arm plucked the waxlight which Connie had set down on her arrival, and reeled it back in to Amethyst. "That's working too," she grinned intensely. Then, distracted, she turned over the waxlight in her hands, inspecting it. "Huh. So that's what they look like."

Shaking her head, she threw the device down into the straw where it landed with a clank. "Wow, they really are safer."

Changing focus again, she bounded in to where Connie was sitting, staring at her with benevolent curiosity. "Looks like my fashion choices are a few hundred years out of date," she commented. Then, her entire body flashed a bright white, altering rapidly in stature. When it faded a moment later to its usual palette, Connie found that she was looking at her own doppelganger, rendered in shades of purple and with Amethyst's gem still embedded at collar-bone height.

Amethyst grinned impishly through Connie's face. "My name's Connie and I'm a genius, apparently," she sang. Then, just as quickly, she resumed her own form. "Bwah hah! Everything works. I can't believe everything works! I can't believe you fixed me!"

"Honestly," Connie said, her voice weak, "I can't quite believe it either."

"How?" Amethyst insisted. "How did you do it?"

"Well... that'd be telling." Unsure what she'd unleashed, Connie chose discretion for the time being.

"Playing your cards close, huh?" Amethyst gave her an appraising look, but was apparently too caught up in the situation to bother pressing the matter. She took to pacing the room, switching rapidly between numerous animal forms, not all of which Connie could identify. "I can finally be free. I can run through the forests and fly over the mountains." In a confusing display, she was suddenly a Zircon, the Amethyst gem still embedded paradoxically in her torso. "I could even rejoin gem society! Those dummies won't know what hit them," she fiercely intoned, switching between the forms of several different types of gem — again, many of which Connie was unfamiliar with.

"Will you be all right?" Connie asked. "Will you be able to avoid getting caught?"

Amethyst, resuming her own shape, gave a low, bitter laugh. "Oh, believe me. After last time? No way. No way do they get me twice."

Connie gave an encouraging smile. "I thought so. That's good. You should go as soon as you can. I'd leave tonight, if I were you."

Amethyst gave a quizzical look, and Connie briefly outlined what she had heard about Zircon's audit.

"So..." Amethyst concluded, "this is it?" She looked around the room, as if seeing it for the first time. "Wow, what a depressing hole. Still, I've had worse rooms." With a wistful smile, she turned her attention back to Connie. "What about you guys? Will you be all right here?"

"Maybe. I think maybe with you gone, Zircon won't have anything left to hold over us. I don't know for sure." Connie shrugged. "What I do know is, we don't have to keep you here to be able to pass on what you've told us. It'll be more of a help for me to know you're out there, somewhere. Doing whatever you like."

Amethyst was decisive. "I'd like to find out if there are more gems like me," she said. "Whether I can do anything to help."

"If you go looking in other settlements," Connie suggested, "you could see how many there are, and how big. Find out what happened to the cities."

"Maybe I could catch up to that Prasiolite that had to run her mouth off to an Agate when I forgot to be tall enough." Amethyst made a fist and drove it vindictively into her other hand. "Really get reacquainted." She seemed to be talking to herself, but then turned her attention back to Connie. "Hey, so listen, little Miss Trade Secrets! You should stay safe so that if I ever meet someone who needs their gem fixing, I could bring them back here."

"Of course," Connie agreed, "I'd be honoured." The decision not to reveal her method was reinforced by the prospect of one day meeting Amethyst again and learning what had been happening. (Also, she had a vague trepidation about letting it be generally known how the organic regulator was activated.)

Having run a gamut of emotions, Amethyst smiled helplessly at Connie. "Thanks, Connie. I'll never forget this. I must have forgotten hundreds of humans, but I'll always remember your name. I only wish I could do something to pay you back."

"Well," Connie said, "there might be something."

She stood up and rummaged in her pocket to retrieve her tatty sheet of paper, and held it out to Amethyst.

"When you get to where gems are, and if it's safe, could you try and find a way to get this to Pink Diamond?"

Amethyst unfolded the paper, which read:

DEAR PINK DIAMOND,

I regret that my letter must be anonymous as I fear Reprisal against
myself or my family. I wish to report certain Injustices being carried
out in your name, not least, the persecution of gems deemed 'defective'
by members of your Authority. In addition to this, Humans have been
removed from their homes without due explanation or as punishment.

For centuries we have worked the land in accordance with Gem law, yet it
appears the condition of our soil is worsening and (inasfar as I can
tell) the number and size of Settlements is diminishing. I fear for the
future of my race if this continues.

I ask you to consider that you are being misled by your Advisors, and
act to remedy these matters. If this is not the case, then I beseech
that you clarify how these facts can be reconciled with the Covenant
of protection under which we live.

I remain your humble servant,
A Concerned Citizen

She stared at the letter for a few moments, before looking back to Connie. "Still haven't stopped changing your alphabet, I see."

"Uh, sorry." Connie gestured toward the paper. "I can tell you what it says, if..."

"No need," Amethyst waved her off. "I've got the gist and I can figure the rest out. So you want me to hand this over to Pink Diamond, eh?"

"You don't have to do it in person if it's not safe. Maybe you could find someone who'll take it for you. I don't know how these things work."

"I'll do my best," Amethyst declared, nobly crumpling the letter into her robes. "Now if you don't mind, I'd be happier if I never spent another minute in this room."

"Of course." Connie retrieved her light from the floor, and led the way out and up the stairs. Amethyst looked around with interest at the machinery in the mill, but was instantly distracted when Connie opened the door. She barged past Connie to grab the railing at the top of the steps, straightening her arms until she had lifted herself off the floor.

"That's where you live?" she asked, looking down on the moonlit settlement.

"That's B1C7," Connie confirmed. "I'm... over toward the back there."

"Huh." Amethyst vaulted the railing and dropped down to the ground. Then, before Connie could catch up, the gem leapt upwards in a tremendous bound that landed her on top of the windmill itself.

Connie squinted up at the silhouetted building, but couldn't see where her companion had gone. She walked around the structure's circumference, listening out for any sign.

Halfway round, Amethyst dropped from the sky with an almighty thud. She'd paid Connie enough mind not to collide with her, but the greater part of her attention was focused on the distant horizon.

"What's going on with the ocean?" she asked.

"Uh, it's..." Connie didn't know what was required. "Nothing much? The usual... ocean stuff?"

Amethyst stared disbelievingly out to sea. "This is normal?" She shook her head and gave a brief, mirthless laugh. "There's something wrong. This isn't normal."

"I've only been here for a few months," Connie apologised. "What should it be like?"

"That's just weird," Amethyst mused, all but ignoring Connie. "The size of those waves? Looks like the storm to end all storms, but it just isn't." She waved her hand vaguely in the wind. "Something huge must be causing that."

They gazed in silence at the expanse of ocean, and Connie wondered if there was anything else unusual about her environment that she was lacking the contextual knowledge to recognise. "Do you think it's because of the Authority?" she asked.

Amethyst nodded thoughtfully. "I think it probably is."

There didn't seem to be much more to say about it. Together, they strolled back round the windmill to the side overlooking the settlement. Connie tried to pick out individual buildings in the darkness.

"Back when you worked as an oracle," she asked Amethyst, "where did you used to live?"

"Place called Hellas," Amethyst said. "In Europe," she added, seeing the blankness on Connie's face.

Connie contemplated this. "I don't even know which continent we're on."

"Well..." Amethyst paused. "You know what planet you're on. That's something, right?"

Connie laughed. "I think I'm just going to tell everybody," she said. "I'm tired of keeping secrets."

"Tell them what?"

"About you. About the Diamond Authority. All of it. If we don't need to worry about hiding you any more, then why tiptoe around it?"

"In my experience, humans have a complicated relationship with the truth. But don't let me stop you."

Connie turned to Amethyst. "If you do visit any other settlements, could you tell them as well? Let them know everything you told me and the others."

"Sure," Amethyst shrugged.

"Oh," Connie realised, "and be careful when you leave the settlement. There are these flying things that look for you — though I don't know if they just work on humans."

Amethyst smiled grimly. "Never mind wandering the land like some questing pilgrim. There's a warp pad right near here, right? If I'm travelling, I'm travelling in style."

"Well... you will be careful, won't you? That sounds dangerous."

"You're just jealous you haven't got a ticket." Amethyst winked, tapping her gem.

"At least make sure you don't look conspicuous." Connie indicated Amethyst's white garb. "You're the only Amethyst I've ever seen dressed like that."

"Very funny. I'll have you know these robes were the epitome of style when I selected them. Forgive me if I like to look distinguished." She grinned as Connie rolled her eyes. "Does this meet your standards?" There was a flash of light and Amethyst was suddenly taller, broader and wearing a similar uniform to those Amethysts that Connie had seen on routine business.

"Very nice," Connie nodded, impressed. "I'd certainly never guess you were a secret human-sympathising agent."

Amethyst suddenly looked serious. "You jest, but I've had more sympathy from humans than I have from gems in my time on this earth. So if it comes down to picking a side, I know what my choice would be." She posed ostentatiously. "Now if there's nothing else, I'd like to get out there and see things for myself."

Lost for words, Connie threw her arms round Amethyst in a hug. Taken aback, Amethyst reverted to her own size to reciprocate. Then, she transformed into a large cat-like creature with sleek purple fur and a long, swishing tail. "Catch you later," she said, and darted off down the hill at startling speed.

"Take care, Amethyst!" Connie shouted.

The receding figure of the transformed gem suddenly leapt up into the air, where it changed shape again to a large bird, gliding off into the distance. For a moment Connie fancied that it had waved one of its wings in acknowledgement. She peered after the distant shape until it could no longer be distinguished in the darkness. Then, smiling, she sat down on the ground against the windmill steps. The hard soil was ice-cold against her wrists, but it was good to feel like a part of her surroundings.

She gazed up at the night sky. Maybe the letter would get to Pink Diamond, maybe it wouldn't. The chance was enough. She only regretted that there was no way to send it to the Pink Diamond that existed in the official portraits.

A single wisp of cloud was passing in front of the moon. Connie could sense some difficult conversations in her near future. First, she would need to tell the truth to her parents. Then she would let the Fryman boys know what she had done. She idly wondered who would be angriest.

It didn't really matter. What mattered was that Connie had achieved what nobody had been able to accomplish in hundreds of years. Maybe thousands. She had subverted the injustice that had been done to Amethyst, and done so using the very tools of the system that had oppressed her. This one good deed would sustain Connie. Whatever came next, she knew she could regard her life as well-lived. She would sleep well tonight.

The cloud finished its transit and the way was illuminated once more. Connie thought she saw a purple speck on the horizon, but knew it was probably her imagination. Wondering whether she would ever see the Oracle again, she climbed to her feet, dusted off her hands, and commenced her unsteady journey down the hill towards home.