* * *
The overlapping radii of the Irinon and ne’Xab nodes allowed the travelers to remain on the barge as the labyrinthine plain gave way to the scattered residences that made up the ne’Xab settlement. Irinon’s avatar made its farewells, and the ne’Xab Entity – represented by a clumsily scrawled glyph rendered in colorful chalk, such as a child might attempt – greeted them. Ne’Xab was accompanied by a guest of its own, whose introduction proved somewhat problematic.
“I fail to understand this fascination with labels,” harrumphed the newcomer, a spectacularly rotund and bejeweled fish which floated incongruously above the table along with Tenbor’s dove and ne’Xab’s scrawl. “I am perfectly capable of determining whether I am or am not being addressed at any given moment.”
“It is a matter of courtesy to your fellow guests,” ne’Xab gently chided. “They appreciate, and in some cases require, verbal identity markers in order to communicate effectively. Furthermore, the use of names is part of their etiquette – a signifier that you have their attention, or a request that you grant them yours. In short, they must call you something, so unless you are content with ‘Hey, Fish’ – which I do not consider to be consistent with your dignity – a name must be offered.”
“I have accepted your hospitality on this and other occasions because I thought to detect – lurking beneath your stultifying devotion to tedium – a kindred spirit, a bon vivant,” huffed the fish. “Now I see that I was mistaken. You are every bit as invested in servility as your preachifying colleagues. You simply accept it more … blithely.”
“Surely you are overreacting,” opined Tenbor. “Why not simply allow them to address you as the Alacre Entity, or Alacre? It is descriptive, unique, and consistent with the naming practices of your peers.”
“It is a shackle you would lay upon me! The Alacre Entity, indeed – why not the Alacre Slave, or the Alacre Nursemaid? Today it is ‘merely a name, a harmless little tag in the ear, don’t make a fuss, you’ll hardly notice’ – and tomorrow a hundred thousand biologicals are clamoring for me to cook their dinners and bear away their night-soil.”
“Well, if you are going to belittle my guests to their faces, it is obviously best to drop the matter at once,” ne’Xab replied smoothly. A series of deep red hues pulsed over the fish’s scales, and it began a sputtering attempt at what might have been an apology, but ne’Xab proceeded apace. “I present to you Merinel, Adimar, Colombe and Abixandra. Ladies and gentleman, our visitor is an Entity without domain or obligations, although it typically frequents the Verchspace associated with the region of Alacre. It has no name to offer you. You may preface your comments to it with the phrase ‘Hey, Fish.’”
“Hey, Fish,” said Byx. “You’re really pretty.”
The jeweled fish smiled, and the deep red hues gave way to shades of rose and gold. “And so are you, poppet,” it cooed. “Such a delightful juvenile. Never mature, young friend, nor consort overmuch with those who would encourage you to do so.”
“I’m glad you approve of her,” said Merinel. “After all, she consumes dinners in great quantity, and I could tell you stories about night-soil that would curl your whiskers.”
The fish swelled a bit and assumed a solemn expression. “Allow me to explain myself with greater composure. It is not that I disdain the company of biologicals – far from it. I merely object to caring for them by the thousands, however individually marvelous they may be, just as you might object to raising young girls by the dozens, however individually marvelous they may be.”
“I can’t deny that,” admitted Merinel.
“Of course not! Only a very deranged mind would seek out such drudgery,” continued the fish, rolling one eye pointedly at each of its fellows. “But do away with the spectre of responsibility, and I yield to no being in my appreciation for the majestic madness of the biological mind. Indeed, I embrace and revel in my biological heritage, far more so than my semiliving companions here.”
Colombe frowned. “I think I am puzzled. I thought the Entities lacked bodies, and were just made up of glyphs.”
The fish pursed its lips. “A rather crude way to put it, but essentially correct – we are logical beings, with no specific referent in the world of matter, other than the substrate of the Verch itself. Nevertheless, we are the fruit and flower of biological thought and culture. Our minds may have been engineered, but our identities are organic: the legacy of thousands of brave souls at death’s doorstep, who gallantly threw open the gates of their own personae to let their individual essences flow into a greater whole – in this instance, myself. My drives, my desires, my gravest fears and pettiest irritants – these were vouchsafed to me, as birthright and benison, by my biological precursors, and unlike so many of my fellows, I have never relinquished this legacy.”
“Hey, Fish,” interjected ne’Xab. “Permit me to jeopardize our Universe’s crowning moment of rhetorical achievement by interrupting you. I must present an alternative viewpoint to your airy disregard for my memetic fidelity. My stewardship of the ne’Xab settlement is not an abdication of my biologically grounded traits – it is the natural fulfillment of those traits.”
The fish rippled its whiskers dismissively. “Well, perhaps your precursor cohort was different from my own. Heavy on bureaucrats and pensioners, with a relative dearth of poets, duelists, and tragic lovers.”
“Adimar fought a duel only yesterday,” Tenbor pointed out. “Merinel’s love sustains her through great hardship. Tenbor’s poets – broadly defined – will most certainly commemorate their efforts. If you are gratified by contemplating the qualities of the departed, consider how much more meaningful it is to strive alongside the living.”
“You bask in reflected heroism,” sneered the fish.
“Assuredly. What glory could I possibly achieve on my own? There is no credible threat to my comfort or security. I suffer nothing except what I inflict upon myself. To lift up others is the only valor I can exhibit.”
The fish swam rapidly in a circle, blowing an exasperated stream of bubbles. “Oh, very well, very well, VERY WELL. Let us execute this project of yours, if only to bring a quick end to this tiresome harangue.”
“Excellent,” replied ne’Xab. “I will tell the Septet to confirm you as the Alacre Entity at once, and arrange for settler migration as quickly as possible.”
“NOT THAT!” bellowed the fish. “I refer only to Tenbor’s immediate glyph-weaving needs, as well you know. It will take more than a self-righteous lecture to make a brood-hen out of me.”
“Just as you say,” reassured Tenbor. “Abixandra, I regret that I must ask you and Colombe to exit the Verch at this time. You may speak with your mother again this evening.”
“OK,” replied Byx. “Hey, Fish: nice meeting you.”
“Hey, Fish,” added Colombe, “I think I enjoyed meeting you as well – and you, ne’Xab.”
“Likewise, likewise,” the fish replied. “I only hope the hectoring of my colleagues was not too numbing for you to listen to. At some future point we must meet in the Verch without such disagreeable company, and I can expound my philosophies without any nattering commentary.”
Byx and Colombe vanished, and Merinel turned to the dove. “This project of yours – you still think it can keep Tench stable until we reach Szerar?”
“I believe so. With the assistance of ne’Xab and … our piscine associate, I should be able to have the solution largely in place by the time we exit the radius of ne’Xab’s fixed nodes. Whatever is unaccomplished at that point must be addressed by myself within the constraints of the autonomous node. We must maintain a speedy pace to ensure our arrival at the Eighth Crevasse by nightfall.”
Merinel nodded. “Ne’Xab, I fear we will make poor guests for you, just as we did for Irinon. I wish we were visiting your home in other circumstances.”
“Circumstances are notoriously indifferent to our preferences. If thi
s unseemly haste contributes to your husband’s recovery, I am well satisfied. We Entities must now retreat to my workspace -- the barge’s inherent logic should prove equal to the task of seeing to your needs in the interim. I will see to it that your vehicle is equipped for your journey through the foreward jungle. It may seem impenetrable at first, particularly if you are not used to such environments, but it is really not such an expansive habitat.”
“I am sure we can manage,” smiled Merinel. “Thank you again.”
The Entities disappeared, and Merinel spread her shawl on the table to contemplate the remainder of their route. “And, that I am afraid, represents the end of our journey through desirable neighborhoods,” she remarked to Adimar. “It’s all madbeings and trees from here on out.”
Adimar shrugged. “The world itself is mad, and I am curious to expand my familiarity with trees. In any case, I believe we established at the outset that fatalism is my bailiwick, onto which you are now intruding. Be cheerful! We are growing ever closer to our goal.”
“Huzzah,” replied Merinel dutifully, drumming her fingers over the shawl’s depiction of the Szerar Domain.