As soon as Darlaune woke the next afternoon, she went to the elevator and sat in front of it. She frowned at the machine. It was not right, nor was it of Gaia's design. Looking over her shoulder, she realized that the menagerie was the same as the elevator- useless except for fancies. All the things that grew there were in and of themselves and gave little back to nature as a whole. How much here was held in stagnant, man-made, perfection? Surely her father would understand her rationale. Darlaune smirked at her own wisdoms.
'Perhaps-' she thought, squirming with the realization- 'perhaps that is why father keeps me here. Perhaps that is why he hates the aberrants so very much.'
Darlaune giggled to herself as she waited. The afternoon sun slipped gently through the glass, offering her li
