The way she says “request” makes it feel much more like a demand, but I nod anyway.

“We want the Feeders to be put back on Phydus.”

My hand slips into my pocket. For a moment, I wonder if Marae knows that I’ve carried the wires from the Phydus machine with me every day since Amy ripped them out three months ago.

“No,” I say, firmly, as much to myself as to them.

“It wouldn’t be hard to fix the Phydus machine,” Marae says. “In fact, Second Shipper Shelby has already done a preliminary repair report—”

Marae holds her hand out, and Shelby gives her another floppy already flashing with a mechanical diagram.

I glance down at the floppy. It would be an easy fix. An easy fix — and an easy solution. A little bit of Phydus — maybe not even as much as Eldest used before… we could eliminate a lot of the conflicts we’re having… get people back to working without fuss…

“No,” I say adamantly, my voice low. “We’re not using the pumps.”

“It doesn’t have to be through the pumps,” Marae says. “Doc’s been working on some med patches for us using the Phydus compound.”

I cut her off. “No one needs Phydus.”

Marae’s lips tighten. She reaches across me and swipes her finger across the top of the floppy. The mechanical diagrams are replaced with a line chart. “Productivity decreased by ten percent the first week the Feeders were off Phydus. It’s down to nearly thirty percent now, and there seems to be no indication that it will rise again.” She offers me the floppy, but I don’t take it. “Our food supplies are dangerously low. This is a primary concern, but we’re running out of other necessities, such as clothing, as well.”

I open my mouth to speak, but she continues in an even voice. “We have crime now. Never had it before. But now we do. Domestic violence, theft, vandalism. With Phydus—”