“You might have drowned me!” Garth shouted disrespectfully. “Are you trying to kill me?”
The Visitor waved weakly until he recovered his breath. “That was funnier than anything I’ve seen in years,” he wheezed, “watching you groping for a screen. That screen is a quarter of a mile away, and it’s all real water in between. It’s our reservoir and our basic fuel supply and a public beach for entertainment, all rolled into one.”
“But I might have drowned! No one on Wrom except a few small fish knows how to swim,” protested Garth.
“No danger. Your ancestors came out of the water relatively recently, even if the seas are gone now. You’ve got a well-developed swimming reflex along with a flat tail and webbed feet and hands. Besides, I told you not to touch anything. You stick close to me and you won’t get into trouble.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll remember.”
“There used to be hundreds of people on that beach, and now look at it.”
“I don’t see anything alive.”
“There are still plenty of fish. Most of them did all right, even through the crash. Come along now. There’s more to see.”
A hidden door popped open and Garth stepped back into the corridor. He trotted beside The Visitor for several minutes, and then another door popped open. It led to a ramp. Garth climbed it to find himself again in wonderland. He was standing in the middle of a village. There were houses, trees, schools, sidewalks and lawns. Somehow the general perspective was wrong. It made Garth’s eyes water a little, looking at it.