* * *
On the morning of her departure, Merinel did not trust herself to speak without succumbing to tears. Therefore, she made her farewell to Byx in a fierce embrace, which Byx returned in equal measure. Finally, with a kiss on the cheek and a hastily whispered “Love you,” she released her daughter, squeezed Colombe’s hand gratefully, and stepped outside to where Adimar and the quicksilver dove awaited with the cargo lifter.
“Are you ready?” asked Adimar.
“No,” responded Merinel. “Let us depart nevertheless.”
Merinel folded the pushbar forward over two small seats which were attached to the rear end of its platform. She and Adimar boarded the seats, the dove perched on the pushbar, and the vehicle propelled itself at moderate speed up the slope of the Dish.
At regular intervals, Merinel’s mutterband would rattle to life, emitting whispered questions from Byx regarding their progress, and conveying in return Merinel’s admonishments to pay attention in class. Settlements grew sparser as they approached the rim of the Dish, and in due course they surmounted the rim itself, and Merinel found herself confronted with the unfamiliar boundlessness of a horizon. At this point the lifter paused, and they turned back to look at the Dish from above.
“I suppose you’re used to this view,” said Merinel.
“Not entirely,” replied Adimar. “This is a very different perspective than that of the antenna’s heights. The Dish appears both larger and smaller, somehow.”
The quicksilver dove fluttered before Merinel, and she offered it her finger to perch on. “This represents the outer range of reliable communication with Tenbor’s node, and therefore, your last chance to speak with Abixandra before you reach Zaltta.”
Merinel nodded and whispered “Byx” into her mutterband, which responded with a soft chime and an excited tumble of speech:
“Mommy! Is that you? Are you OK?”
“I’m fine, honey. I’m just letting you know that we’re about to leave the Dish, so I won’t be able to talk to you again until tonight, probably.”
“But maybe not?”
“Well, I’m almost certain that I’ll be able to talk to you tonight. Later on it might be trickier.”
“Like in the fallows and the wilderness?”
“That’s right.”
Byx paused. “OK. I miss you.”
“I miss you too. Be good for Colombe. We don’t want her to regret her reintegration.”
“OK,” sighed Byx, making it clear how exasperating it was to suffer through such needless admonitions.
Merinel rendered the band dormant with a tap. Adimar, she noticed, evinced no interest in using his own.
“Have you no farewells for the spire?”
Adimar shrugged. “My errand is known. If I perish, my comrades already know enough to compose songs in my honor.”
“I always look forward to these encouraging observations of yours,” replied Merinel, “to lift my spirits during this difficult time.”
Adimar looked crestfallen. “Again I beg forgiveness; I will do my best to conform to soil-grub sensibilities. Among my people, a degree of fatalism is considered becoming. To accurately state the improbability of an Iron Goat suffering death or injury is seen as an act of arrogance, justified though it may be.”
“Well, consider this journey your chance to work out years of pent-up arrogance regarding your invincibility, and by extension, my own.”
Adimar nodded gravely.
The dove cooed gently for their attention. “This also represents the limit of the dove construct’s operating range. To imbue it with an independent subself would be an unacceptable security risk in the event of its capture or compromise.”
Merinel sighed. “I suppose it is too much to hope that you are saying this only because among your people, a degree of fatalism is considered becoming?”
“Most certainly not. Was this a facetious query?”
“Only in part. Even after spending several hours with the Shawl of Horrors, I cannot quite work myself up to the fever pitch of dread that seems to come so naturally to you and Adimar – although a few more conversations like this may well close the gap.”
“You are correct in estimating that the chance of the construct’s capture or compromise is minimal. Nevertheless, in this case the risk outweighs the benefit. When you are within a node’s operating radius, I shall project as much of my presence into your local Verchspace as I can. When you are ex-radius, you are unlikely to face any threat against which my subselves could offer any protection.”
Merinel closed her eyes and nodded. “Very well. We will speak again in Zaltta.”
“Indeed.” The dove flitted back towards the Dish, and Merinel opened her eyes, surprised at how alone she felt. She wondered if she had allowed the Entity to fill up a little of the empty space that Tench had left in her life, and what her Sensualist would have had to say about that.
“Let’s proceed,” she said, and the lifter, whose autonomous logic was sufficient to grasp this command, accelerated smoothly.