* * *
Merinel spent the next several hours studying the data in her shawl. The Tenbor Entity had compiled an exhaustive library of background material, categorized in order of relevance. Merinel read the overall summary slowly and carefully, and then began selecting items at random: the charter of the fallow community of Mastmarch, a kinesthetic poem composed by a resident of Lhaës, a genetic bestiary of the Eighth Transverse Segment. By the time the sun had crossed over the antenna spire, she had done much to improve her store of facts, but little to ease her disquietude.
Retrieving the crown from its cubbyhole, she entered her personal Verchspace: an observatory, beneath a night sky crowded with impossibly close planets and moons. The design had been a gift from Tench.
She murmured "Ship," and put her eye to the lens of the observatory's gleaming brass telescope. Instantly she was transported to the top of Tenbor's antenna spire, to the very platform where Tench had begun his pursuit of the Tenbor Entity during its episode of madness. A bitter wind whipped across the platform, and Merinel fancied she could hear voices in it; echoes of forgotten laughter and grief. Shuddering, she raced to the edge and leapt into empty space.
Her totem glyph performed a slight elongation, enabling her to float effortlessly through the imaginary air of the Verch. The forgivingly elastic physics of her personal Verchspace allowed her to attain virtually any speed, and she rocketed past the outskirts of the Dish in an instant. As she approached the neighboring enclave of Zaltta, she reduced her speed and unwound her shawl, calling up a mile-by-mile itinerary. For hours she traced her intended route from the air, flitting over lifeless models of civilized settlements, makeshift fallow enclaves, empty hull, and overgrown wilderness.
During her second pass over the Ninth Transverse Crevasse, a spherical silver bell materialized before her and softly chimed, indicating a visitor. She exited the Verch and removed the crown as Byx and Colombe entered the study. Byx clambered into her lap and accepted a kiss on the forehead. “Have you got Colombe all settled in?”
Byx nodded. “We think the demiquol is her favorite animal,” she reported, “but she’ll have to try a couple to be sure.”
“I am glad to see that you have addressed the crucial issues,” Merinel said, noting the wide-eyed stuffed toy tucked under Colombe’s arm, “but I was thinking more of trivial details like clothing.”
“Of course I got her some clothing – I’m not stupid.”
Colombe smiled. “Abixandra has been very helpful,” she said. “I think I am very happy with the garments she selected.”
“I’m sure you are. Byx is developing into quite the fashion maven. Now honey,” she continued, addressing her daughter, “You know I am leaving tomorrow.”
“I know, Mommy.”
“Are you going to be all right here with Colombe?”
“Will you talk to me every day?”
“I’ll try, sweetie. But as I get farther and farther away, there will be more times when I can’t.”
“Okay.” Byx gnawed thoughtfully on her lower lip, a gesture not lost on her mother.
“Do you have any other questions?”
Byx looked up. “What will happen to me if you have to stay away … for a long time? Like Daddy had to stay in Mecantrion for a long time?”
Merinel held her daughter close. “I won’t, honey. I promise I won’t. If Daddy doesn’t get better soon … well, we’ll just come back, that’s all.”
“Okay,” murmured Byx.
“Okay,” agreed Merinel.