The seals wubble out of their crates, one by one, and gaze to the left and the right. The two of them, 1 and 3, head for the water as if they know exactly what to do. The other two are slower. They dip their flippers in first, just like people. But soon they are immersed and their confused heads are rising from the surface of the water like nothing so much as seal heads wiring from the surface of water. They move up and down with the rhythm of the waves as smoothly as if they were attached to pistons. It is impossible to tell if they are happy. Then they are gone.
Gevy watches the sea, waiting for the seals to reappear, then turns to Niko and says something. Niko holds the binoculars for him with one hand and points with the other. For a moment, they could be any ordinary children. This is how Yin would like to remember them.
All favors have ended now and so have all obligations. This is not the way the world works, but then sometimes it is, Yin decides. Not everything is connected. It is a relief, in some ways, to decide this.