[ Not for the first time, Kida wonders what these fabled surface-world princesses do all day that they can't--do anything else. She doesn't even need to concentrate; the knife in her hand makes a precise series of chak sounds against the cutting board, sliding up and down like a guillotine. ]

Food is becoming scarce in Atlantis. Our technology begins to fail us. A thousand years ago, our streets were lit; now, it is more difficult than ever for us to grow anything but mushrooms or water-loving grain.

[ She speaks with a detachment, but the tight line of her shoulders betrays how unhappy it makes her. ]

We survive. [ But not much else. ]