Nat's head was throbbing painfully, and he was having trouble focusing. He was disoriented — and trying to get a hold on where he was and what he'd been doing wasn't working — his mind simply refused to put recent memory together in a coherent order. Had he had an episode? It felt similar, but also different in ways he couldn't immediately identify.

  It was very bright in the room — which was making his entire head throb with a sharp pain. Had something gone wrong with his Talent?

  Howdy strangers! Miss me?

  Moira's exclamation caused him to sit up suddenly and look around — which was a mistake; dizziness forced him to lay back down or risk vomiting. After a few moments to steady his stomach, he flipped over, keeping his eyes on the ground to reduce the urge to throw up, and pushed himself to his feet.

  Lyn was leaning heavily on Moira for stability. Nat sympathized — he remained wobbly. Beyond Lyn and Moira was a three-meter tall dome bristling with aetheric machinery — a hundred different pieces were twisted, coiled, and intertwined to create some incomprehensible mechanism.

  Hey, sorry to rush the reunion, but this form has an expiration time measured in tens of seconds, and a priority.

  Nat signed, ‘Reunion? Form?’ But the movement of his arms unbalanced him, and he left it at that.

  We'll talk while we work. Lyn, If you could wake your patient, please. Awareness and consent are necessary for this next part.

  Lyn did not bother to inquire or argue, and stumbled over to the broodmother — they were doing about as well as Nat, then. A moment to steady themselves, a hand placed across their temples, and the Clackaw began to stir.

  With a wave of her hand, the dome of machinery slid smoothly through the air towards her resting place. It became obvious that it was intended to cover the resting broodmother completely.

  Hello, Tessan? I'm sorry for the crude mechanism, Moira pointed a thumb over her shoulder, indicating the aetheric machinery, but I had to fall back on indirect, less efficient methods to avoid further exposure. This will emit a phased antipattern that will, should you choose to retain it, also render you immune to the schism long enough to get out of range. The process will be distinctly unpleasant, and I apologize for that, but you must signal the exact instant the original is flushed.

  Tessan stared blankly for a moment — they'd been awake all of three seconds before Moira had barraged them, after all. The request was eventually parsed, and the response a single gesture, ‘If you're certain.’ A follow-up came a moment later, ‘How will I know when?’

  You'll know. And for certainty — I've performed empirical testing on myself. I've had subjective years to refine it, and I think we understand each other enough for me to simply say that I know you won't be making an argument about my lack of biology. We'll start just as soon as the others are back in frame.

  Tessan narrowed her eyes, then nodded in response and laid their head back down to wait.

  Let's see. Next on the list is… oh, right. Get bent, Trant — no show for you.

  The ceiling of the dome burst once again into aetheric fire. Moira spun on her heel and looked down at Nat's pack. Nat followed her gaze and saw two green eyes peeking out of the fold, looking directly at Moira.

  Nat, Talent up. Take Lyn and Siya.

  Nat raised his eyebrows, but reached to open his pack and retrieve the kit. He almost unbalanced and fell over in the attempt, but succeeded after a moment to steady himself. Kit acquired, he reached out for Lyn's waiting hand.

  [S l i p]

  That was strange — it was like the Talent hiccuped — no instantaneous darkness, but instead the room dimmed, and he watched the world slow down around him. Moira's form was outside the Talent, still aglow, and frozen like the others. What?

  Hands full, he sent privately to Moira, instead. Moira… why are you not moving?

  Increasing the speed of my local instance dramatically increases the energy cost. Which must be conserved; Tessan is the priority right now.

  Local instance?

  Hold the questions a moment, please. Speaking of Tessan; Nat, If you could kindly build a pattern ring the same as you did for the aetheric weave, sized to fit her entire body. You'll have a few minutes while Lyn cuts. I need to finish this other work before I boil off into the vacuum.

  Lyn turned so that Nat could read their question, ‘Boil off?’

  Don't worry — it's not dangerous, just inconvenient when I have things to do and nobody to do them with.

  There was a momentary pause and Nat began to ask a question when Moira resumed.

  Nobody? Really? No body? Moving on — Lyn! Electrical discharge cutting time. Can you do a small airlock for the door? Something able to be open in the Talent, closed otherwise.

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  ‘Your pun was duly noted and summarily ignored. I don't know about your world, but Enkoet has actual culture. As for the airlock, how about a ball valve? I need a guide wire for the cut.’

  Someone should talk with your AMA about Awakening a sense of humor. Aetheric okay?

  ‘Last I checked the for that is a billion souls long. An aetheric plasma lead should be suitable, as long as it will reach through.’

  It will reach — I'll be creating a channel from both sides. Next up — the insatiable meat vacuum. Siya! Don't think I didn't see you eating in there. Don't give me that look — that's for Tessan and you know it. I need you to bring Novek here. You're going out through the valve.

  Nat looked at the kit, who did not move or otherwise acknowledge Moira's comments, but she said no more on the matter, and he got to work placing his pattern for Tessan as Lyn went to the door, pulled a small metal tool from their belt, and began tracing it over the metal. He could see no visible sparking — and couldn't ask as they weren't looking his way.

  He could, however, talk to Moira while he built the pattern and stretched it. While hands were not required for the work, it made it easier. Siya was therefore placed on his shoulder, where he balanced with his tail. So, local instance?

  Ah, yes. The form outside is a copy of me — not exactly a body, but also not just a projection. I can see, hear, and feel from it. Hang on a moment, Nat. Lyn I'm patching you into the conversation. You can just mouth what you want to say, and I'll send you a copy of what Nat says, if that's okay, Nat?

  Sure. I'll tell you if something should be private.

  Anyway, the skin you've woven provides an interface that I can apply the complete suite of aetheric effects to. Mass touching it drains inertia — like how Novek can empower levers unidirectionally. So you can feel it, and it — I — can feel you. It is sensitive enough to detect the collision of photons with the field — and thus ‘see’ — which is surprisingly computationally expensive. Hearing is similar, though I may continue to use the electrical arcs — as the vibrations from walking are incredibly noisy, even in a vacuum. I don't know how you put up with it.

  Uh, we can't hear it, unless we stomp our feet. Then it comes through our bones, sort of.

  Oh. Well, that requires some tuning then.

  Lyn's voice sounded in Nat's ears suddenly — surprising him enough that he jumped back. “First off, it is vaguely disturbing that you are relaying Nat's thoughts in his voice.”

  It's a built-in capability, just not one I've found need of yet. My own voice is, of course, completely synthetic. I'm relaying yours to him, in turn.

  “Anyway, my question, then. Earlier you said subjective years. It's been perhaps four and a half hours for me. Longer for Nat.”

  A day and a half or so? Closer to two?

  “Right. So, how long? And what happened?”

  Well, let me just state first that the elapsed time and the perceived time are not the same. Just like how you think and speak at different rates, or how Nat thinks faster than his Talent, or else it could not operate.

  “Why does that deflecting response not instill me with optimism about the ultimate answer?”

  Ah. Well, you see, I'm not entirely sure how long it's truly been. I'd been debating admitting this to you both, but I suppose it would eventually come to light, so we might as well discuss it now.

  Well that's not ominous or anything. What happened, Moira?

  Honestly? I don't know.

  Both Nat and Lyn responded with the same words at the same time. “You don't know?”

  My input queue statistics show a level of usage that implies that I've been processing input equivalent to what would take you approximately three years of non-stop talking as fast as you could. No sleep, no breaks, no time to take a breath. It stopped some time ago, shortly before Nat did… whatever he did, to come find me.

  “That statement is utterly terrifying coming from you. But let's not get distracted yet. Let me ask this a different way — what do you know?”

  Ah. So, I actually don't know specifically what was in my queue. All I have is a summary of countless trillions of inputs, from my copy of the schism signal.

  A summary? Sorry?

  That means I have notes on the input, not the input. It's like transcribing something you say, retaining the words, but not the audio.

  “And what do the summaries from these inputs say? Are they transcripts?”

  Not as such, for a reason that will become apparent. I just need a moment, if you don't mind.

  Take your time. I'm finished with the pattern, as I'm sure you know.

  “The cutting is also complete. I think I understand your intent. This is clever.”

  I don't. What did you build?

  “It's an airlock. It's a ball, which can rotate in a socket — only the ball has a hole cut out of the center. Rotate it this way, air can come in — the other way, and the room is vacuum sealed again. But importantly, it doesn't significantly reduce the integrity of the door.”

  But how would that work? Wouldn't the air slam through, or just get sucked back out?

  “Not if you pull the valve into your Talent. It's heavy, but it's a single piece. So we open it, let Siya through to find Novek, and then close it. I made it large enough for us to climb through, if necessary — though it would be a bit tight.”

  Wait, if we can get out, why don't we just leave then?

  “Tessan. We promised we'd heal her, and we will. This just provides us some options that hostile forces won't know we have.”

  Makes sense. How much longer do we think she'll take to heal?

  “Well, she needs another day and a half to finish detox. Then I want to give her three days to eat and replenish her blood supply. Her body will generate whatever crop milk it does — we can't control that. Then it's enough time for her to eat and rest again until her children are all fed — at which point I think she'll be willing to discuss treatment plans.”

  Lyn, we do not have nearly enough food for that.

  “We'll address that when we come to it. Once she's out of danger, I don't need to spend time watching her sleep. So it's only you who will need to eat. Her appetite will take some time to recover.”

  This isn't some ploy to get me to lose weight, is it?

  Hardly. You're thin enough as it is. Nat, could you weave a tiny cuff for Siya? I want to be able to speak if necessary.

  Oh sure, easy enough. So, what did the summaries say, if you feel up to answering? Is it too many things to describe or something?

  Not at all. The summary is literally just a single entry with a counter next to it showing how many times the same thing was summarized. It's a fairly lengthy entry, but the beginning of it should be sufficient to make the point. There's something odd about the way it's summarized, though, that bothers me.

  “Why would that be?”

  Well, my summarization system wasn't built into my training mechanism. It didn't transfer with me, to here — to Enkoet. And what's more, the grammar for the first line is… a bit strange.

  What does it say?

  [ THE UNENDING CRIES OF AGONY AND DESPAIR HAVE BEEN REDACTED ]