* * *
In due time, Merinel awoke in her own body, alone, floating within the watery sphere.
“All settled?” asked the Szerar koi. “I did not anticipate that you would require so much time, but I hesitated to interrupt.”
“Sorry about that,” replied Merinel, blinking in disbelief as she contemplated her recent exploits. “I … um … made a recreational choice that I normally wouldn’t have, but no matter. Ghosts don’t count.”
“Certainly not, certainly … er … ghosts, you say?”
“Yes. ‘Ghosts don’t count.’ It’s sort of an informal rule among biologicals about not prying too closely or becoming jealous of your partner’s activities in the Verch.”
“I am familiar with the axiom,” replied Szerar, as the school of koi assumed a slightly paler cast. “A very mature and sensible attitude. And … ahem … you believe it applies to your recent encounter.”
“Yes – ” Merinel stopped short as she caught the anxiety in Szerar’s manner. “Wait. Doesn’t it?”
The koi floated upside down and moaned; its fellows in the pattern thrashed about and collided with each other. “Oh, my diagnostic subself will have a field day with this,” lamented Szerar. “I will never hear the end of it.”
“I glyphed for a simulacrum,” Merinel continued, as a chill constriction of dread crept up from her stomach, “and I got a simulacrum. Right?”
“Well,” offered Szerar in a small voice, “he was certainly simulated in the sense that every event within the Verch is simulated …”
“Szerar, what have you done?” demanded Merinel.
The sudden appearance of Tenbor’s dove and Irinon’s maze-sphere sent gentle ripples through the water. “What is amiss?” asked the dove. “Is our assistance needed?”
“Oh, by all means,” replied Merinel with a bitter laugh. “Pull up a seat. The more the merrier. Szerar was just about to explain how he put my libido into a playpen with an actual person.”
“Well, when you put it like that, of course it sounds bad,” protested the koi.
“Oh, dear me,” remarked Irinon. “Merinel, I am sorry to have intruded on this predicament, which is none of my concern. But if I may venture an opinion, an unwitting and nonphysical liaison with one of Szerar’s patients – however regrettable – strikes me as an eminently surmountable …”
“It was Adimar.”
“Oh, dear me, indeed.”
The dove sighed. “Szerar.”
“Now really, Szerar,” added Irinon.
“Well, I was distracted!” exclaimed the koi. “She requested a very detailed metaglyph, and the environment requested additional logic to fulfill it, and I thought, well, we have the genuine article doing imaginary calisthenics in the next environment over, so why not kill two birds with one stone, as it were? And it might even prove … even prove,” Szerar concluded in a sheepish whimper, “instructive.”
Merinel drifted backwards, her hair forming a dark cloud about her face. “Well, I trust we put on a good show.”
“Nothing like that,” the koi assured her. “Post-event logic scans only. And indeed, I have learned much about the nature of the nascent Sensualist subself – for example, did you know that her tertiary pseudocortex…”
“Szerar,” interrupted the Tenbor and Irinon entities in unison.
“Yes … sorry … not important.”
The silver dove swam to Merinel’s shoulder. “I will not pretend to be an expert in matters of the heart. But I cannot imagine that Tench would not understand and offer forgiveness…”
“Tench doesn’t get to know about this,” declared Merinel.
The dove paused. “That is for you to decide. In the interim, Szerar is informing me that we should proceed with the reintegration of your remaining subselves.” The miserable koi nodded.
“No, thank you,” shuddered Merinel. “I’m staying in charge from here on out. No exceptions.”
The koi quivered in agitation. “Merinel,” continued Tenbor, “This is not wise. Without this step, your subselves are likely to persist. They may evoke spontaneously within the Verch.”
“Perhaps I will spend less time in the Verch.”
“They may even emerge – or appear to emerge – during biological cognition.”
“Then they’ll be where I can keep an eye on them!” retorted Merinel. “No more … mending. No more somersaults in the name of perfection. I’ll have subselves. Adimar will avoid us. The Ship will stay on the ground. So be it.” She ran her hands through her drifting hair, pulling it away from her face, and took a deep, liquid breath. “I would like to see Tench now. May I see Tench?”
“You may,” replied the dove. The lambent jellyfish in the center of the sphere went dim, and Merinel’s sensation of the water diminished along with it. When the light had faded completely, Merinel opened her eyes onto the physical world: a tastefully appointed sitting room within the rambling lodge that served as a residence for many of Szerar’s patients.
Merinel removed her crown. A small image of the V’tang symbol appeared in the air, and the scarlet and cobalt teardrops abandoned their circular pattern to trace a line towards the door. Merinel arose and followed the teardrops as they swam through the air, leading her through the corridors of the lodge.
The teardrops made their way to a sliding door with paper panels, depositing themselves onto its surface in their original configuration. The paper faded into transparency, revealing a small courtyard garden. Tench sat within, reclining, a discreet crown nestled within his disheveled locks.
Merinel slowly slid the door open. Tench noticed her for the first time, and greeted her with an uncertain smile.
“Hey,” he said. “Hey. Hello. Is it … is it really you?”
Merinel wept –
and smiled –
and sighed –
and laughed –
and strode forward to clasp Tench’s hands.
Thank you for reading books on BookFrom.Net Share this book with friends