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threats.
    It’s a self-sustaining ecosystem! Lewis was terrifically excited.
    Damned if you aren’t right, Mendoza replied. She came to a dead halt on the stairs, staring. What—?
    Lewis followed her gaze. Those are cotton plants, he informed her helpfully.
    But they’re the wrong kind! Mendoza stepped off the stairway and out onto the terrace, where she bent down to inspect what was growing there.
    “My sister is impressed by your garden,” said Lewis. Orocobix, who was following at a slow but steady pace, looked pleased.
    “I take it your master has none such?”
    “Well—no, not really.”
    “Ah,” said Orocobix, with great satisfaction.
    They ought to be growing Gossypium barbadense. This is Gossypium herbaceum. It’s African cotton, Lewis!
    Aha! Proof of Atlantis!
    Oh, don’t be a —
    “We have other excellent plants here, also,” remarked Orocobix, as he passed Mendoza. “Come along, child.”
    He led them up the last few steps. “The Royal Palace of the Guanikina,” he said complacently.
    They stared, and were stared back at.
    The palace was a low sprawling building of thatched stone, with wings opening off a central courtyard, green with moss and overhung with forest canopy. In the courtyard sat two mortal women and a man. The man and woman appeared to be in early middle age, clad in the same sort of worn finery as the old man. The other woman was young, in her late teens or early twenties. She had been in the act of fanning herself and was looking rather disagreeable, though her expression changed to one of shock when Lewis and Mendoza stepped into the courtyard.
    “My family, I bring you visitors,” said Orocobix, looking smug.
    “My lord,” exclaimed the girl, and rising from her seat she threw herself at Lewis’s feet.
    “I’m sorry?” Lewis looked down at her.
    Orocobix cleared his throat.
    “My child, this is a mere servant of Maketaurie Guyuaba. A dead mortal.”
    “Oh!” Blushing furiously, the young lady scrambled to her feet. “How dare you, man of earth!”
    “You should have known they were dead by the color of their skin,” said the older lady to the younger, in tones of icy reproof. She turned a brilliant smile on Lewis. “How do you do, child? You may set your offering down. We scarcely expected a delegation from divine Maketaurie. Not in broad daylight, at least.”
    “ His kingdom is apparently doing rather well,” said Orocobix meaningfully. “And he has few wives.”
    “Has he?” The older woman and the younger exchanged glances.
    Lewis, they’re all alone here! I can only pick up two other mortal signs. Who the hell are these people?
    A royal family with no subjects?
    “So, I suppose older deities, who are perhaps not such swift fellows as they once were but nevertheless have a certain amount of wisdom the young cannot possess, do have their uses,” said Orocobix to the other man, with an air of triumph.
    “You needn’t preen yourself,” said the other man. He was thickset, with something of the look of a dissipated politician. He turned dull eyes on Lewis and Mendoza. “There are only two of them.”
    “ But they are authorized by their lord to negotiate on his behalf,” said Orocobix. “And will return to him in a week’s time. Therefore it behooves us to treat them as ambassadors, don’t you think?”
    “Of course it does,” said the lady, taking the man by his arm in a rather firm clasp. “Welcome, proxies of great Maketaurie! I am Atabey, goddess of the earth, and this is Agueybana, god of the sun. Regard the goddess Cajaya. Is she not fair?”
    “Most fair,” said Lewis, bowing. In fact Cajaya was sallow, angular, and rather pigeon-breasted, but she simpered for him now and batted her goose-feather fan.
    “You must excuse the sad state in which you find us,” said Atabey. “No servants to wash your feet, no retainers to salute you! The truth is, our great family has suffered certain reverses.”
    “Very sorry to hear it, oh