Notes

https://www.fotor.com/blog/best-ai-anime-character-creators/

PS4='Line ${LINENO}: ' bash -x script

Why are proofs written in first person plural?

https://math.stackexchange.com/questions/604277/why-are-proofs-written-in-first-person-plural-were-they-ever-written-differentl

Buffer

Tput https://bugs.freebsd.org/bugzilla/show_bug.cgi?id=214709

expand_ranges() {

  local IFS=,
  set -- $1
  for range; do
    case $range in 
      *-*) for (( i=${range%-*}; i<=${range#*-}; i++ )); do echo $i; done ;;
      *)   echo $range ;;
    esac
  done

} numbers=( $(expand_ranges 11-14,17,20) )

curl --netrc-file my-password-file http://example.com

machine <example.com> login <username> password <password> Note:

Machine name must not include https:// or similar! Just the hostname. The words 'machine', 'login', and 'password' are just keywords; the actual information is the stuff after those keywords.

fuse

archivemount -o readonly archivetest.zip /mnt

IDE drives were /dev/hda, /dev/hdb

SATA drives /dev/sda, /dev/sdb

USB stick could be /dev/sdb (e.g.) /dev/sdb1 or /dev/sdc (e.g.) /dev/sdc1

sudo groupadd -G 10000 lus sudo mkdir /var/lib/docker/volumes/vol/_data/shared sudo chown root:lus /var/lib/docker/volumes/vol/_data/shared sudo chmod g+w /var/lib/docker/volumes/vol/_data/shared sudo chmod +t /var/lib/docker/volumes/vol/_data/shared

docker build -t alpine-with-bash --build-arg D_UID=1006 --build-arg D_USERNAME=dckrusr1 --build-arg D_GID=10000 . docker run -it --rm --mount src=vol,target=/mnt/vol alpine-with-bash

In Dockerfile: RUN addgroup -g $D_GID lus RUN addgroup $D_USERNAME lus

Cool and Unusual Punishment

``Bye, sweetie!'' Mom called out for the final time.

I had already said goodbye a few times. I heard the door to the garage open and close. I heard the garage door open and close.

It was Saturday. Dad had to go into the office for a full day of work. Sis was at a friend's place. Mom had left for a full afternoon of errands. The house was empty. I knew my big sister was keeping secrets. I was 16. She was 17. Now was my chance. I dashed into my sister's bedroom.

The single bed was flanked by two nightstands, both with drawers. The low dresser opposite the bed had three low drawers and three high drawers.

I pulled the low drawer out that was furthest from the door. As it came off the rails, there was a flash of light. As I blinked away the afterimages, I couldn't believe my eyes. I had changed. I appeared to be wearing a white sundress.

I ran to Mom and Dad's room and managed three steps before I tripped. I managed to get a foot under me, a slender, elegant foot. As quickly as I dared, I made it into Mom and Dad's room and looked in the full--length mirror.

I didn't recognize myself. I looked like a cute girl. My big brown eyes were the only thing I recognized and they were stunning. I had tons of waist--length raven hair. The white sundress was simple but also cute. I was no more than five--six. My breasts were cute B--cups. I swayed left to right. The skirt moved easily and so did my breasts.

A few things became obvious. Magic was real. My sister was a witch. She had set a trap to keep me from looking. I knew there were more traps. Traps that would make me cuter, hotter and more embarrassed. Seeing how cute and hot I could make the girl in the mirror overrode any feelings of dignity.

I took short but quick steps back to my sister's room. The dresser drawer was on the floor. It looked like there was nothing inside. I dropped to the floor, reached inside, and felt around. As I suspected, there was a flash of light.

Before I made it to the mirror, I could tell that the sundress was now pink. Back at the mirror, I could see that my hair, fingernails, toenails, and eyes were pink.

I knew my sister was trying for a warning. Now that my eye colour was pink, there was nothing left of who I was. It only served to disassociate me. The girl in the mirror wasn't me, and I new there was more to see.

Back in sis's room I put the first drawer back. I reached inside the space for the second drawer. There was a flash of light. The sundress was now frilly. A panel of white went down the front with crisscrossing red laces. It was pink on both sides with a bow at the waist on both sides. I rushed to the mirror, getting a few steps in before I stumbled. I got a foot under me, a foot wearing a pink Lolita pump. I carefully walked back to the mirror.

The girl in the mirror was cute and sweet. Her breasts were now C--cups. Her legs were still bare. I turned to one side and saw the large white bow on her back that I was expecting.

I tried a few cute, innocent poses like biting a tiny portion of my lip with a worried look, rubbing one leg against the other, and putting a finger to my lips thoughtfully. The girl in the mirror obliged. I wanted to turn up the heat.

Back in sis's room, I put the second drawer back and pulled out the third. Flash. Mirror. The outfit had gone black and white. I had a small apron over the skirt. It was a maid dress that covered everything on top, puritanical except for the very short skirt. The pumps were now black. She was wearing white thigh--highs connected to straps that ran up under her skirt. Her hair, eyebrows, and eyes were still pink.

Now, we were getting somewhere. I touched the hem of the skirt. I ran my fingers along the hem around one leg. I blew the mirror a kiss. I tried to look attentive and obliging.

I walked back to sis's room as fast as I dared. I dropped to the floor and went digging inside the third drawer. Flash. Something was around my neck. I heard ringing. I was getting odd sensations. Mirror. A cat girl maid with a black leather collar and a golden bell looked back. Her shocked look was cute and hot. Somehow, I avoided drooling over her DDs, still puritanically covered. I turned to the side. Her tail had a large bow and bell. I thought her eyes had changed. I walked right up to the mirror and discovered vertical pupils in pink eyes, cute and not in the least bit human.

I spun. Her tail flung, though I didn't see much through the mirror.

Back in sis's room, I put the third shelf back in and went to one of the nightstands. I pulled the bottom drawer out.

Flash. Nothing appeared to change, but everything I was wearing seemed to tighten, including the collar. Everything was snug and not uncomfortable, but I wanted to take the collar off. I reached up and tried to find the end. It was a single piece of leather. I tried to find the zipper for the dress. There wasn't one. I sat on the edge of sis's bed and tried to unbuckle the shoes. The buckles appeared to be glued.

One of sis's warnings had managed to break through. I started to think the next thing she had planned was a cage. I put the dresser drawer back in the nightstand.

The latest warning may have finally stopped me from looking but I was in a position to give a breathtaking favour to a friend up the street. I recognized that I was in control of a cute, hot body, but I didn't think of it as mine.

I walked to my room trying to tune out the sound of the bells. I found my phone. I texted Jason, ``Seriously weird shit over here, come here now or lose out forever never knowing what you missed. Text back only when you're already on your way.''

It took less than ten minutes before I heard a knock at the door. I opened it, staying behind it.

``What the hell?''

It took a few moments before he came in. I shut the door.

He looked me up and down. His obvious interest meant I might get some serious payback later. ``What the fuck?''

I locked the door. ``You know what I like?''

``Tell me what you like.''

``I like boys who do what they're told and don't ask questions.''

``OK.''

``Come on!'' I exclaimed as I ran upstairs. My voice seemed to be cute enough to fit my appearance but you always sound different in your own head.

I went back to the mirror to enjoy the view a bit more. He appeared in the doorway. I gestured to him to come over. He walked in but stopped a few paces away.

``Stand behind me. I want to look at myself and see you looking at me.''

He did. ``I need to touch you so I know you're real.''

I considered his request. ``You can put your hands on my shoulders.''

He did. I could feel his strength in the simple gesture. We looked more like a couple.

``Your ears and tail look so real.''

``So that's what you want to touch. One finger. Be gentle.'' I watched him reach out slowly.

He made contact.

The sensation was unlike anything. ``Ooh.''

He stopped, his finger not far from my ear. ``You purred.''

``I did not.''

``Let me play a little longer with your ear. If you purr, I want to touch your tail.''

``If I don't \ldots'' I trailed off, trying to figure out a punishment that wouldn't be dumb and wouldn't unintentionally be hot.

He didn't wait. He got in there and I was purring. A human voice box couldn't make that sound. He added another finger on my other ear.

I couldn't help closing my eyes. After a little while, he stopped. I opened my eyes. He grabbed my tail and slid his hand down it.

It was so intense, unexpected, and erotic that I moaned.

``You like that?''

``Yeah,'' I drew out softly.

``I'll do it more if you get down on your hands and knees.''

I wanted to see myself like that too. I took the pose. Seeing a hot cute cat girl like that with a guy standing behind her was getting me ready.

He grabbed my tail with one hand and slid it down. Before he finished, he started his other hand. He continued, always keeping one hand on my tail.

I made a series of small cute noises like sighs, purrs, and moans.

He let my tail go and it rose into the air. ``That looks like an invitation.''

He knelt down and reached toward my ass. I was expecting him to touch it through my skirt, but when he made contact it was clear that only my panties were in the way. My tail had been under my skirt and it had bunched around my tail, flashing him an invitation.

He played gently with my ass with both hands and it was exquisite. With a quick motion, he pushed my knees together. He carefully peeled down my panties and tugged until they were around my closed knees.

He picked me up around the waist with one hand and got my panties past my knees with the other. He shifted and pulled them free. The view was somewhat ruined by the front of my skirt, which had dropped down, but it was still good.

He stood. He continued to play with my tail as before but now that it had bunched around my skirt, he was able to go the full length from the base to the bell and bow.

I was in ecstasy. I couldn't keep it to little noises. I was having trouble keeping my eyes open. He stopped. I opened my eyes and looked up. He had already taken his top off and was dropping his pants. As he revealed his erect member, he said, ``Perfectly good bed behind us.''

Seeing was far more important to me and besides, it was my parents' bed. ``Fuck me like this.''

``Yes, ma'am.''

It took a little time for him to put it in, but his pushing and sliding around down there kept me going. He grabbed me firmly around my hips and started his rhythm. The sight was almost better than the feel. I discovered that my breasts could shift against the inside of my dress. The rubbing motion was contributing to an erotic high beyond anything I'd experienced. My bells chimed with the rhythm. Above it all, my tight pussy was sending wave upon wave throughout my body like a lighthouse of pleasure. Lost to the passion, I was unaware of the noise I was making until the end. I came with a long, loud, slow moan. I blacked out.

I awoke to the sound of the garage door opening. I was a heap on the floor. I got up on my hands and knees and saw myself in the mirror. I was transfixed. I heard the garage door close. I stood and realized he had left my panties on the floor. I carefully guided them around my shoes and pulled them up. I was having trouble pulling them up with my skirt in the way.

I came up with a solution. I got back down on my hands and knees and flipped my skirt up, then finished pulling them up.

``Seth, get down here and help me unload!'' Mom snapped out from downstairs.

How long had I been staring at the cute girl with her skirt flipped up? I stood. ``Coming!'' I yelled out without thinking. I slammed my hands over my mouth.

There was silence. I only realized in that moment that up to that point I had heard my mother bringing things in.

I heard a few more steps. I heard her on the stairs. I left Mom and Dad's room as quietly as possible. As I left, I couldn't see any evidence on the floor or on my clothes. Had he cleaned up?

``There's no sense hiding. You're only delaying the inevitable,'' she called out from halfway up the stairs.

She was right. I walked to the top of the stairs, blocking her.

``Wow! Why did you go so far?!''

``You knew about the traps?''

``Of course. I still want an answer. Oh. You came out of our room. The mirror.''

``Yeah.''

``I knew it was a bad idea to make your face look so different. I'm still not letting you off the hook. Help me unload.'' She turned and walked down the stairs.

I picked my way down the stairs. A few bags were near the back door. I started shuttling everything to the kitchen.

Once everything was put away, Mom said, ``Well let's take a good look at you. She looked me up and down. ``Your sister does good work. Turn around.

I did.

``That big white bow makes quite the statement. I felt her tug on the end of it. ``So you went far enough that you can't take it off, she muttered. ``Turn around.''

I faced her.

``I thought you'd be embarrassed, ashamed, something.''

``For that to happen, I'd have to believe any of this was real.''

``Ah.''

``Why show me all of this? Obviously you want to keep magic a secret?''

``We thought you'd be too ashamed to tell anybody.''

Well, that backfired.

``You'll be stuck like that until dawn. You'll wake up with your own body.''

I looked myself up and down. ``This doesn't look comfortable enough to sleep in.''

``It will be.''

I looked myself up and down again. ``I suppose the dress wouldn't be that bad, but the shoes?''

She shrugged. ``Go see. Have a little cat nap before dinner.''

``Please tell me I'm not going to endure an entire night of cat jokes?''

``It's supposed to be a punishment, sweetie. I've been preparing.''

I groaned, trying to go for anything other than cute and failing. I spun and walked as quickly as I dared back to the stairs and up to my room.

Before I got there, I realized I had to pee. I went into the second--floor bathroom, locked the door, and studied the toilet seat. I had to turn slightly to accommodate my tail. I don't really want to think about any more details, even as I write this years later. I took care of business, washed up and went to my room.

I got into bed and discovered that my lolita pumps were comfortable in all defiance of the laws of physics and biology. Laying on my side didn't work. On my back, my tail wasn't comfortable. On my front, my breasts weren't comfortable. I tried my side again. I brought my knees up and put one pillow under my lower breast. I put my other pillow under my head. I pulled my copious pink hair toward the head of the bed. I drifted off to sleep without a sheet on top.

I was dozing when I heard my sister say, ``She's the cutest humanoid I've ever seen. Movies too.''

I looked at the clock. It was almost six. I looked at the doorway. Mom and sis were both standing outside my door. It was probably time for supper. I shifted my legs until my knees were near the edge of the bed and turned so I was sitting up. My tail complained so I stood. My hair was all over the place so I gathered it up in a few bunches and let it fall behind my head. ``Is it supper time already?'' I asked, my voice groaning from still walking up.

Mom and sis were in utter shock.

``What?''

Sis started first. ``You got out of bed like you've always been like that. You're not embarrassed. You don't hate me and want me to die for doing that to you?''

``Either it's a dream, a dream I don't want to wake up from, or somehow you gave me a different body for a limited time. Either way, I want to hug you, not hurt you.''

``Really?!''

``I do have one question.''

Sis quirked an eyebrow.

``What's with the puritanical top paired with the short skirt?''

``It was easier to bind you in it.''

``Oh. What was the next thing?''

``A large pink bow on the back of your head. Large pink hearts on the collar. The large pink heart in the centre at the front would've been metal with a ring to attach a leash.''

``And then a cage?''

She looked surprised.

``If I'd have gone that far, I'm guessing you would've needed something more effective. I'm kind of surprised you told me what was next.''

``I was hoping to shock you. You're disassociating. Seth, I'm worried.''

``I'm not Seth. How can I be Seth? I'm someone new, or different. Call me \ldots{} Sierra.''

Mom whispered to sis, ``We can't let Dad see him like this.''

I had the sense that my ears were picking up something I wouldn't have been able to hear otherwise.

Sis pushed past Mom and walked through my doorway. She gestured me forward into a hug. I had become much shorter. I had to put my head on her chest.

The hug felt good. I realized I was purring. She broke the hug. Mom set a plate of food with cutlery on my desk. I hadn't realized she had left.

Mom and sis left. By the time I had finished eating, I was exhausted. I got into bed and adjusted everything like before. I quickly fell asleep.

I heard whispering the next morning and decided to pretend to be asleep. It was Mom and sis. It took me a moment before I realized that I was still wearing the maid dress and bell collar. My eyes snapped awake and saw large breasts. I sighed in relief.

Mom looked at me incredulously. ``You looked at your breasts and were relieved!''

``I was worried I was a guy in a maid dress.''

``Oh.''

``So, now what?''

``Time to find the impediment on the spell. She flew out of the room and was back with what looked like safety goggles. She put them on and looked me up and down, or perhaps left and right, as I hadn't gotten out of bed yet. She went slower the next time and stopped at my belly. She got closer. She looked me straight in the eye. ``You're pregnant!

Sis's jaw dropped.

I shrugged. ``It's the 21st century, it's not like there aren't any options.''

Mom took off the spelled glasses. ``I was gone for three and a half hours. Three and a half hours! And what, you texted a boy to come over for some fun?! What were you thinking?''

``I was thinking: not my body, not my consequences.''

Mom and sis groaned.

Mom ground out, ``You better know who the father is!''

``Yeah, Jason. I didn't think anything was real. I still don't. You never told me magic was real. Should I hold you two accountable for everything you've done in a dream?''

Mom and sis grimaced.

``Let's move on to solutions.''

Mom shook her head. ``Right now, you are my daughter, which means you are of the line of Glinhelda. In 637 AD, Glinhelda saw how the power of witchcraft was corrupting her friends. She used magic to bind her and all of her line into an unbreakable vow. No one in the line of Glinhelda is able to harm an innocent life.''

To my shame, I didn't get it.

``A baby is pretty much the definition of an innocent life.''

``But it's not a baby yet, it's just a clump of cells.''

``We're all clumps of cells. We can have this discussion all day and it won't change the fact that there's no quick way out for you.''

``Dad isn't bound to the vow. Have him go the drug store and ask for the \ldots{} for the \ldots{} I trailed off as I was starting to see the gravity of the situation. I couldn't finish. I knew none of them would be able to ask either. I got out of bed so I could look Mom in the eye. ``Meaning what, I'm stuck like this until I give birth?!

Mom shook her head.

I had never been more relieved.

``Until she is weaned.''

``How long is that going to take?!''

``I'd recommend about a year.''

``So, three months after she's born.''

Mom shook her head. ``A year after she's born.''

I was shocked. ``Wait. She?''

``The firstborn of a witch is always a girl.''

``I'm going to have a little baby girl?''

``Yes. You will take care of her, and eventually wean her.''

``And then I'll turn back into a guy?''

``Seems unlikely.''

``Now what?!''

``Considering how quickly you got pregnant, I'm thinking you might get pregnant again before your first child is weaned.''

``Hey! How was I supposed to know the consequences? You didn't tell me! What if I go directly to formula?''

``Then she will never be weaned and you will be stuck like that forever, even if you feed her the second time from your breasts. There will be a natural weaning time based on her needs. You must put her needs before yours. Magic does not look fondly on people who take shortcuts or who put themselves first.''

``I can't go to school like this.''

``Yes. You will need to home school.''

``This tight--fitting top isn't going to be good for the baby's development.''

``It was created with white magic, so it will adjust so as not to do any harm.''

``If I'm home schooled, people will come to see that my environment is conducive to learning. They will want to meet with me.''

``There have always been people coming to ask questions. Dealing with them is one of the first lessons. Get the father over here.''

I texted Jason, ``Get over here, she wants to talk to you.''

Five minutes later, Tara let him in. The windows in my room were still closed, which was not too unusual, since it was Sunday morning. I hadn't noticed the blinds yesterday. It was a long time before I found out it hadn't been necessary.

I heard Tara ask Jason to follow her. I was standing in the centre of my room as Tara came in. Jason locked eyes with me. His jaw hung open. He walked partway into the room.

I don't know that he made me hot but he had given me one hell of a fun time. I ran the remaining distance to him and snuggled in for a hug.

``She's pregnant,'' my sister blurted out before I was done with the hug.

I pulled out of the hug and looked up at him. He answered my sister while looking straight in my eyes. ``How was I supposed to know I could get her pregnant?''

My sister made an exasperated noise behind me.

He got the next word in. Still looking directly in my eyes, he said, ``Her eyes aren't human. They're not contacts. Her voice box isn't human. Her tail and ears aren't costume pieces. How was I supposed to know pregnancy was possible?''

I was getting the distinct feeling he was talking about me like I wasn't in the room. But he was still looking directly in my eyes.

``Look, if this means I have to travel across the galaxy and live forever on the planet she comes from \ldots{} eating cat food for the rest of my life \ldots{} whatever it takes. He reached up and moved a stray lock of hair. ``I left you once. I never want to do that again.

``That's my brother,'' Tara complained.

I balled one hand and kissed my knuckles, as cat like as I could manage, and giggled.

He laughed.

``You don't seem to be asking many questions,'' Tara tried again.

Jason looked back down at me. ``I guess you didn't tell her what you told me.''

``Nope.''

``Tell me what you like.''

I tried to go for the exact same tone: confident but not too demanding, cute but with something backing it up. I directed it to him. ``I like boys who do as they're told and don't ask questions.''

``That explains a lot,'' Tara mused.

``Would you really eat cat food for the rest of your life to be with me?''

``Maybe for the good stuff. Real meat. Real fish.''

I wasn't sure I liked guys, particularly someone I saw as a friend, but my body seemed to be responding to him. In animals, it would've been governed by pheromones. I knew humans gave off pheromones but lacked the equipment to process them. I took a deep breath. The effect was immediate. I needed to kiss him. He was a head and a half taller. I jumped into his arms, locking onto him with my knees and putting my arms over his shoulders. As I started kissing him, I started to realize that most of my skirt had bunched up around him and the rest was bunching around my tail as it rose. I had my knees around a guy, I was kissing him, and I was mooning my sister. She deserved nothing less.

My eyes were closed as we continued kissing. Out of nowhere he grabbed my ass with both hands and pushed up. Our eyes opened wide at the same time. He realized he had grabbed only panties and not a skirt.

``I was just \ldots{} trying to give you \ldots{} some support.''

I realized it was true. I had no idea what to say but my body did. I started to purr and closed the tiny distance to continue kissing him, his hands still grabbing my ass through my panties.

``Is jumping into a guy's arms and passionately kissing him while you moon passers by a normal occurrence on your planet?''

I considered his question. ``Not particularly.''

``But it does happen?''

It was the response I was hoping for. I shrugged.

Tara made a disgusted noise and walked around us, out to the hall, and down the stairs.

``I think she's going to get her mom,'' Jason whispered.

I sighed. I disentangled from him and he let me down. I tried to get the skirt down, managing in the front but not in the back. My tail was fully up and wasn't coming down. I took up a position near the centre of the room and faced the door. He came up beside me and took my hand in a strong, firm, but comfortable grip.

I heard Tara and Mom coming up the stairs. They came in the room.

Mom spoke first. ``Tara told me how you didn't expect to get her pregnant. I guess you have some wiggle room there. She also said that you're willing to go a long way to stay together.''

``As far as it takes.''

``Good. I'm going to set you up with an apartment. A place we have where people don't ask questions. She will need to stay out of sight, and she will need you. When you finish college, I will expect to be reimbursed with an interest rate less than what the banks charge, not necessarily all at once.''

``What if I go away for college?''

``I will find another apartment. As long as it's a reasonably large city. Paying for an apartment in arrears, even with interest less than what the banks charge, will still be a major drain on your finances. That is the cost of what you've done.''

He turned to me. ``No going to your planet?''

I shook my head.

``Damn!''

I saw a hint of a grin on Tara's face. Mom was going for carefully neutral.

``Will you say something to my family?''

``Yes.''

``I agree.''

I was so happy I turned my whole body towards his.

``Would you lower your tail?'' Mom grumbled.

``She can't Mom, it goes up when she's \ldots{} extremely happy.''

``And you put the skirt over her tail?''

``Don't forget the bell.''

I turned back to Tara and Mom, who were making a hasty exit.

I dashed a few steps and found a strong arm around my waist. I turned back toward him, not worried about flashing anyone in the hallway. My anger was making my tail drop anyway. I heard them quickly descend the stairs.

``Tara dressed you?''

``It was a punishment for looking through her things.''

``If you get \ldots{} aroused, your tail goes up. You can't make it go down. It catches your skirt and the bell at the end of your tail lets everyone know to look?''

``And you held me back as they left!''

``That is so fucking hot.''

What Tara did made me angry but it was turning Jason on. I could smell it. I was arousing the boy in front of me, and his pheromones were making me aroused. I heard my tail bell. It was getting up near my head again. I could feel over my tail and on my ass that my skirt was bunching again.

``Since you seem to be in a question answering mood right now, what's your name?''

I was a little shocked. He had basically proposed without my name, though without a ring. ``Call me Sierra.''

``That's pretty.''

``Thanks.''

He looked up as though expecting someone in the doorway to say something. I hadn't heard anyone come up the stairs but I was worried about flashing someone. I spun.

He grabbed my tail right near the bow and bell.

``Can't believe I fell for the oldest trick in the book.'' I tried to turn.

He grabbed my tail with his other hand, slid it down to the base, getting under my skirt, and tightened his grip.

I squirmed and had to stop because of the pain near the base of my tail. I reached back to try to get his hand away, trying to pry his hand off, but got nowhere.

``I'm hoping that you're playing, and if you had a real problem, you'd tell me.''

``I would. The words came out breathy and aroused. ``You have me by the tail, physically and emotionally, and I love it.

https://stackoverflow.com/questions/578406/what-is-the-ultimate-postal-code-and-zip-regex/7185241#7185241

https://www.tutorialspoint.com/how-can-we-add-insert-a-jradiobutton-to-a-jtable-cell-in-java

https://skeptics.stackexchange.com/questions/52505/was-the-music-used-in-the-you-wouldnt-steal-a-car-advertisements-pirated

https://www.tutorialspoint.com/how-can-we-add-insert-a-jradiobutton-to-a-jtable-cell-in-java

Curiosity Made the Cat

Celeste turned to Dylan. ``We need to get you over to Ron's and back before the bus arrives at your stop.''

``The bus driver could pick me up at Ron's stop, if I called it in.''

``Do you do that often?''

``Once, I think.''

``Anything out of place will make people doubt, and talk. Doubting and glamours don't mix. Get your things together, Dylan.''

``We haven't had breakfast.''

``Then grab a granola bar or something! There's no time to waste.''

Dylan went to pack up while I got a couple of easy to eat snacks.

We were about to head out the door when Celeste reminded us that we'd need shoes. ``These won't be permanent. You'll need to be able to take them off to sleep. But we still need to avoid them turning into high heels, so the magic needs to accept them. Also, making you taller will mean the glamour won't need as much energy, so you'll have your old bodies back sooner. Here.'' She held up two pairs of black lolita pumps.

``Hang on, wait a second,'' Dylan tried to back pedal.

``I'm pretty sure if I had made anything else, they would've turned into high heels. You can't afford that. You'd be falling all over the place. So these, or high heels?''

Dylan decided to call her bluff. He grabbed a pair of old sneakers.

We were on our way in minutes. I almost asked Celeste if she could drive us but I noticed all the stuff in the back seat. It looked like junk but I knew better.

The Space Between

``Nobody makes a box like this without hiding a spare key under the mat.''

``Just pick the longest one and let's get going.''

``Each one is in its own tall narrow cabinet with two dowels and two hangers.''

``They're not all on one rack?!''

``Nope. It's all so dramatic. Even the arrangement of the cabinets is curious. The shoes are all along the bottom with larger cabinets over them. It's not how you build a dresser if you want to be efficient.''

``Maid.''

``Hang on, Dan replied. ``Without the apron \ldots

``The skirt and apron are barely bigger than the underwear. Close. Open. ``Nurse.

``Let me guess \ldots''

``The only way I can tell it's a nurse outfit is the red cross on the hat.''

Getting dressed wanting to see but being overruled

I pulled all the bottom drawers out and looked inside the holes. I looked underneath all the drawers. ``Nothing.''

``What did you check? What's left?''

``I checked the bottom drawers. I guess I have all the rest to look at.''

``It's like you want to be caught!''

It was true. Something was making me want to get caught.

``Get going on the next drawers!''

I opened a large drawer. ``The gas sapped my strength. I could feel my backpack get heavier. I can get this drawer on the floor but I don't think I'll be able to put it back in. Should I be worried about leaving this place tossed?''

``Your clothes are gone?''

``Yeah.''

``So it all depends if that was automated somehow and if they've been stashed somewhere.''

``OK, so we don't know. Err on the safe side.''

I dropped to the floor and looked underneath. Nothing. I kept pulling drawers and feeling underneath. I opened the fourth drawer. ``There's something underneath!''

I dropped to the floor and looked up. ``It's the size of a credit card. Taped to the bottom of a drawer. Plain white.''

``That's your way out! Milo crowed. ``It must be an RFID badge!

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``Bye, sweetie!'' Mom called out for the final time.

I had already said goodbye a few times. I heard the door to the garage open and close. I heard the garage door open and close.

It was Saturday. Dad had to go into the office for a full day of work. Sis was at a friend's place. Mom had left for a full afternoon of errands. The house was empty. I knew my big sister was keeping secrets. I was 16. She was 17. Now was my chance. I dashed into my sister's bedroom.

The single bed was flanked by two nightstands, both with drawers. The low dresser opposite the bed had three low drawers and three high drawers.

I pulled the low drawer out that was furthest from the door. As it came off the rails, there was a flash of light. As I blinked away the afterimages, I couldn't believe my eyes. I had changed. I appeared to be wearing a white sundress.

I ran to Mom and Dad's room and managed three steps before I tripped. I managed to get a foot under me, a slender, elegant foot. As quickly as I dared, I made it into Mom and Dad's room and looked in the full--length mirror.

I didn't recognize myself. I looked like a cute girl. My big brown eyes were the only thing I recognized and they were stunning. I had tons of waist--length raven hair. The white sundress was simple but also cute. I was no more than five--six. My breasts were cute B--cups. I swayed left to right. The skirt moved easily and so did my breasts.

A few things became obvious. Magic was real. My sister was a witch. She had set a trap to keep me from looking. I knew there were more traps. Traps that would make me cuter, hotter and more embarrassed. Seeing how cute and hot I could make the girl in the mirror overrode any feelings of dignity.

I took short but quick steps back to my sister's room. The dresser drawer was on the floor. It looked like there was nothing inside. I dropped to the floor, reached inside, and felt around. As I suspected, there was a flash of light.

Before I made it to the mirror, I could tell that the sundress was now pink. At the mirror, I could see that my hair, fingernails, toenails, and eyes were pink.

I knew my sister was trying for a warning. Now that my eye colour was pink, there was nothing left of who I was. It only served to disassociate me. The girl in the mirror wasn't me, and I new there was more to see.

Back in sis's room I put the first drawer back. I reached inside the space for the second drawer. There was a flash of light. The sundress was now frilly. A panel of white went down the front with crisscrossing red laces. It was pink on both sides with a bow at the waist on both sides. I rushed to the mirror, getting a few steps in before I stumbled. I got a foot under me, a foot wearing a pink Lolita pump. I carefully walked back to the mirror.

The girl in the mirror was cute and sweet. Her breasts were now C--cups. Her legs were still bare. I turned to one side and saw the large white bow on her back that I was expecting.

I tried a few cute, innocent poses like biting a tiny portion of my lip with a worried look, rubbing one leg against the other, and putting a finger to my lips thoughtfully. The girl in the mirror obliged. I wanted to turn up the heat.

Back in sis's room, I put the second drawer back and pulled out the third. Flash. Mirror. The outfit had gone black and white. I had a small apron over the skirt. It was a maid dress that covered everything on top, puritanical except for the very short skirt. The pumps were now black. She was wearing white thigh--highs connected to straps that ran up under her skirt. Her hair, eyebrows, and eyes were still pink.

Now, we were getting somewhere. I touched the hem of the skirt. I ran my fingers along the hem around one leg. I blew the mirror a kiss. I tried to look attentive and obliging.

I walked back to sis's room as fast as I dared. I dropped to the floor and went digging inside the third drawer. Flash. Something was around my neck. I heard ringing. I was getting odd sensations. Mirror. A cat girl maid with a black leather collar and a golden bell looked back. Her shocked look was cute and hot. Somehow, I avoided drooling over her DDs, still puritanically covered. I turned to the side. Her tail had a large bow and bell. I thought her eyes had changed. I walked right up to the mirror and discovered vertical pupils in pink eyes, cute and not in the least bit human.

I spun. Her tail flung, though I didn't see much through the mirror.

Back in sis's room, I put the third shelf back in and went to one of the nightstands. I pulled the bottom drawer out.

Flash. Nothing appeared to change, but everything I was wearing seemed to tighten, including the collar. Everything was snug and not uncomfortable, but I wanted to take the collar off. I reached up and tried to find the end. It was a single piece of leather. I tried to find the zipper for the dress. There wasn't one. I sat on the edge of sis's bed and tried to unbuckle the shoes. The buckles appeared to be glued.

One of sis's warnings had managed to break through. I started to think the next thing she had planned was a cage. I put the dresser drawer back in the nightstand.

The latest warning may have finally stopped me from looking but I was in a position to give a breathtaking favour to a friend up the street. I recognized that I was in control of a cute, hot body but I didn't think of it as mine.

I walked to my room trying to tune out the sound of the bells. I found my phone. I texted Jason, ``Seriously weird shit over here, come here now or lose out forever never knowing what you missed. Text back only when you're already on your way.''

It took less than ten minutes before I heard a knock at the door. I opened it, staying behind it.

``What the hell?''

It took a few moments before he came in. I shut the door.

He looked me up and down. His obvious interest meant I might get some serious payback later. ``What the fuck?''

I locked the door. ``You know what I like?''

``Tell me what you like.''

``I like boys who do what they're told and don't ask questions.''

``OK.''

``Come on!'' I exclaimed as I ran upstairs. My voice seemed to be cute enough to fit my appearance but you always sound different in your own head.

I went back to the mirror to enjoy the view a bit more. He appeared in the doorway. I gestured to him to come over. He walked in but stopped a few paces away.

``Stand behind me. I want to look at myself and see you looking at me.''

He did. ``I need to touch you so I know you're real.''

I considered his request. ``You can put your hands on my shoulders.''

He did. I could feel his strength in the simple gesture. We looked more like a couple.

``Your ears and tail look so real.''

``So that's what you want to touch. One finger. Be gentle.'' I watched him reach out slowly.

He made contact.

The sensation was unlike anything. ``Ooh.''

He stopped, his finger not far from my ear. ``You purred.''

``I did not.''

``Let me play a little longer with your ear. If you purr, I want to touch your tail.''

``If I don't \ldots'' I trailed off, trying to figure out a punishment that wouldn't be dumb and wouldn't unintentionally be hot.

He didn't wait. He got in there and I was purring. A human voice box couldn't make that sound. He added another finger on my other ear.

I couldn't help closing my eyes. After a little while, he stopped. I opened my eyes. He grabbed my tail and slid his hand down it.

It was so intense, unexpected, and erotic that I moaned.

``You like that?''

``Yeah,'' I drew out softly.

``I'll do it more if you get down on your hands and knees.''

I wanted to see myself like that too. I took the pose. Seeing a hot cute cat girl like that with a guy standing behind her was getting me ready.

He grabbed my tail with one hand and slid it down. Before he finished, he started his other hand. He continued, always keeping one hand on my tail.

I made a series of small cute noises like sighs, purrs, and moans.

He let my tail go and it rose into the air. ``That looks like an invitation.''

He knelt down and reached toward my ass. I was expecting him to touch it through my skirt, but when he made contact it was clear that only my panties were in the way. My tail had been under my skirt and it had bunched around my tail, flashing him an invitation.

He played gently with my ass with both hands and it was exquisite. With a quick motion, he pushed my knees together. He carefully peeled down my panties and tugged until they were around my closed knees.

He picked me up around the waist with one hand and got my panties past my knees with the other. He shifted and pulled them free. The view was somewhat ruined by the front of my skirt, which had dropped down, but it was still good.

He stood. He continued to play with my tail as before but now that it had bunched around my skirt, he was able to go the full length from the base to the bell and bow.

I was in ecstasy. I couldn't keep it to little noises. I was having trouble keeping my eyes open. He stopped. I opened my eyes and looked up. He had already taken his top off and was dropping his pants. As he revealed his erect member, he said, ``Perfectly good bed behind us.''

Seeing was far more important to me and besides, it was my parents' bed. ``Fuck me like this.''

``Yes, ma'am.''

It took a little time for him to put it in, but his pushing and sliding around down there kept me going. He grabbed me firmly around my hips and started his rhythm. The sight was almost better than the feel. I discovered that my breasts could shift against the inside of my dress. The rubbing motion was contributing to an erotic high beyond anything I'd experienced. My bells chimed with the rhythm. Above it all, my tight pussy was sending wave upon wave throughout my body like a lighthouse of pleasure. Lost to the passion, I was unaware of the noise I was making until the end. I came with a long, loud, slow moan. I blacked out.

I awoke to the sound of the garage door opening. I was a heap on the floor. I got up on my hands and knees and saw myself in the mirror. I was transfixed. I heard the garage door close. I stood and realized he had left my panties on the floor. I carefully guided them around my shoes and pulled them up. I was having trouble pulling them up with my skirt in the way.

I came up with a solution. I got back down on my hands and knees and flipped my skirt up, then finished pulling them up.

``Seth, get down here and help me unload!'' Mom snapped out from downstairs.

How long had I been staring at the cute girl with her skirt flipped up? I stood. ``Coming!'' I yelled out without thinking. I slammed my hands over my mouth.

There was silence. I only realized in that moment that up to that point I had heard my mother bringing things in.

I heard a few more steps. I heard her on the stairs. I left Mom and Dad's room as quietly as possible. As I left, I couldn't see any evidence on the floor or on my clothes. Had he cleaned up?

``There's no sense hiding. You're only delaying the inevitable,'' she called out from halfway up the stairs.

She was right. I walked to the top of the stairs, blocking her.

``Wow! Why did you go so far?!''

``You knew about the traps?''

``Of course. I still want an answer. Oh. You came out of our room. The mirror.''

``Yeah.''

``I knew it was a bad idea to make your face look so different. I'm still not letting you off the hook. Help me unload.'' She turned and walked down the stairs.

I picked my way down the stairs. A few bags were near the back door. I started shuttling everything to the kitchen.

Once everything was put away, Mom said, ``Well let's take a good look at you. She looked me up and down. ``Your sister does good work. Turn around.

I did.

``That big white bow makes quite the statement. I felt her tug on the end of it. ``So you went far enough that you can't take it off, she muttered. ``Turn around.''

I faced her.

``I thought you'd be embarrassed, ashamed, something.''

``For that to happen, I'd have to believe any of this was real.''

``Ah.''

``Why show me all of this? Obviously you want to keep magic a secret?''

``We thought you'd be too ashamed to tell anybody.''

Well, that backfired.

``You'll be stuck like that until dawn. You'll wake up with your own body.''

I looked myself up and down. ``This doesn't look comfortable enough to sleep in.''

``It will be.''

I looked myself up and down again. ``I suppose the dress wouldn't be that bad, but the shoes?''

She shrugged. ``Go see. Have a little cat nap before dinner.''

``Please tell me I'm not going to endure an entire night of cat jokes?''

``It's supposed to be a punishment, sweetie. I've been preparing.''

I groaned, trying to go for anything other than cute and failing. I spun and walked as quickly as I dared back to the stairs and up to my room.

Before I got there, I realized I had to pee. I went into the second--floor bathroom, locked the door, and studied the toilet seat. I had to turn slightly to accommodate my tail. I don't really want to think about any more details, even as I write this years later. I took care of business, washed up and went to my room.

I got into bed and discovered that my lolita pumps were comfortable in all defiance of the laws of physics and biology. Laying on my side didn't work. On my back, my tail wasn't comfortable. On my front, my breasts weren't comfortable. I tried my side again. I brought my knees up and put one pillow under my lower breast. I put my other pillow under my head. I pulled my copious pink hair toward the head of the bed. I drifted off to sleep without a sheet on top.

I was dozing when I heard my sister say, ``She's the cutest humanoid I've ever seen. Movies too.''

I looked at the clock. It was almost six. I looked at the doorway. Mom and sis were both standing outside my door. It was probably time for supper. I shifted my legs until my knees were near the edge of the bed and turned so I was sitting up. My tail complained so I stood. My hair was all over the place so I gathered it up in a few bunches and let it fall behind my head. ``Is it supper time already?'' I asked, my voice groaning from still walking up.

Mom and sis were in utter shock.

``What?''

Sis started first. ``You got out of bed like you've always been like that. You're not embarrassed. You don't hate me and want me to die for doing that to you?''

``Either it's a dream, a dream I don't want to wake up from, or somehow you gave me a different body for a limited time. Either way, I want to hug you, not hurt you.''

``Really?!''

``I do have one question.''

Sis quirked an eyebrow.

``What's with the puritanical top paired with the short skirt?''

``It was easier to bind you in it.''

``Oh. What was the next thing?''

``A large pink bow on the back of your head. Large pink hearts on the collar. The large pink heart in the centre at the front would've been metal with a ring to attach a leash.''

``And then a cage?''

She looked surprised.

``If I'd have gone that far, I'm guessing you would've needed something more effective. I'm kind of surprised you told me what was next.''

``I was hoping to shock you. You're disassociating. Seth, I'm worried.''

``I'm not Seth. How can I be Seth? I'm someone new, or different. Call me \ldots{} Sierra.''

Mom whispered to sis, ``We can't let Dad see him like this.''

I had the sense that my ears were picking up something I wouldn't have been able to hear otherwise.

Sis pushed past Mom and walked through my doorway. She gestured me forward into a hug. I had become much shorter. I had to put my head on her chest.

The hug felt good. I realized I was purring. She broke the hug. Mom set a plate of food with cutlery on my desk. I hadn't realized she had left.

Mom and sis left. By the time I had finished eating, I was exhausted. I got into bed and adjusted everything like before. I quickly fell asleep.

I heard whispering the next morning and decided to pretend to be asleep. It was Mom and sis. It took me a moment before I realized that I was still wearing the maid dress and bell collar. My eyes snapped awake and saw large breasts. I sighed in relief.

Mom looked at me incredulously. ``You looked at your breasts and were relieved!''

``I was worried I was a guy in a maid dress.''

``Oh.''

``So, now what?''

``Time to find the impediment on the spell. She flew out of the room and was back with what looked like safety goggles. She put them on and looked me up and down, or perhaps left and right, as I hadn't gotten out of bed yet. She went slower the next time and stopped at my belly. She got closer. She looked me straight in the eye. ``You're pregnant!

Sis's jaw dropped.

I shrugged. ``It's the 21st century, it's not like there aren't any options.''

Mom took off the spelled glasses. ``I was gone for three and a half hours. Three and a half hours! And what, you texted a boy to come over for some fun?! What were you thinking?''

``I was thinking: not my body, not my consequences.''

Mom and sis groaned.

Mom ground out, ``You better know who the father is!''

``Yeah, Jason. I didn't think anything was real. I still don't. You never told me magic was real. Should I hold you two accountable for everything you've done in a dream?''

Mom and sis grimaced.

``Let's move on to solutions.''

Mom shook her head. ``Right now, you are my daughter, which means you are of the line of Glinhelda. In 637 AD, Glinhelda saw how the power of witchcraft was corrupting her friends. She used magic to bind her and all of her line into an unbreakable vow. No one in the line of Glinhelda is able to harm an innocent life.''

To my shame, I didn't get it.

``A baby is pretty much the definition of an innocent life.''

``But it's not a baby yet, it's just a clump of cells.''

``We're all clumps of cells. We can have this discussion all day and it won't change the fact that there's no quick way out for you.''

``Dad isn't bound to the vow. Have him go the drug store and ask for the \ldots{} for the \ldots{} I trailed off as I was starting to see the gravity of the situation. I couldn't finish. I knew none of them would be able to ask either. I got out of bed so I could look Mom in the eye. ``Meaning what, I'm stuck like this until I give birth?!

Mom shook her head.

I had never been more relieved.

``Until she is weaned.''

``How long is that going to take?!''

``I'd recommend about a year.''

``So, three months after she's born.''

Mom shook her head. ``A year after she's born.''

I was shocked. ``Wait. She?''

``The firstborn of a witch is always a girl.''

``I'm going to have a little baby girl?''

``Yes. You will take care of her, and eventually wean her.''

``And then I'll turn back into a guy?''

``Seems unlikely.''

``Now what?!''

``Considering how quickly you got pregnant, I'm thinking you might get pregnant again before your first child is weaned.''

``Hey! How was I supposed to know the consequences? You didn't tell me! What if I go directly to formula?''

``Then she will never be weaned and you will be stuck like that forever, even if you feed her the second time from your breasts. There will be a natural weaning time based on her needs. You must put her needs before yours. Magic does not look fondly on people who take shortcuts or who put themselves first.''

``I can't go to school like this.''

``Yes. You will need to home school.''

``This tight--fitting top isn't going to be good for the baby's development.''

``It was created with white magic, so it will adjust so as not to do any harm.''

``If I'm home schooled, people will come to see that my environment is conducive to learning. They will want to meet with me.''

``There have always been people coming to ask questions. Dealing with them is one of the first lessons. Get the father over here.''

I texted Jason, ``Get over here, she wants to talk to you.''

Five minutes later, Tara let him in. The windows in my room were still closed, which was not too unusual, since it was Sunday morning. I hadn't been quite as thorough yesterday. It was a long time before I found out it hadn't been necessary.

I heard Tara ask Jason to follow her. I was standing in the centre of my room as Tara came in. Jason locked eyes with me. His jaw hung open. He walked partway into the room.

I don't know that he made me hot but he had given me one hell of a fun time. I ran the remaining distance to him and snuggled in for a hug.

``She's pregnant,'' my sister blurted out before I was done with the hug.

I pulled out of the hug and looked up at him. He answered my sister while looking straight in my eyes. ``How was I supposed to know I could get her pregnant?''

My sister made an exasperated noise behind me.

He got the next word in. Still looking directly in my eyes, he said, ``Her eyes aren't human. They're not contacts. Her voice box isn't human. Her tail and ears aren't costume pieces. How was I supposed to know pregnancy was possible?''

I was getting the distinct feeling he was talking about me like I wasn't in the room. Even though he was still looking directly in my eyes.

``Look, if this means I have to travel across the galaxy and live forever on the planet she comes from \ldots{} eating cat food for the rest of my life \ldots{} whatever it takes. He reached up and moved a stray lock of hair. ``I left you once. I never want to do that again.

``That's my brother,'' Tara complained.

I brought a hand up to my lips with my fingers curled outward, as cat like as I could manage, and giggled.

He laughed.

``You don't seem to be asking many questions,'' Tara tried again.

Jason looked back down at me. ``I guess you didn't tell her what you told me.''

``Nope.''

``Tell me what you like.''

I tried to go for the exact same tone: confident but not too demanding, cute but with something backing it up. I directed it to him. ``I like boys who do as they're told and don't ask questions.''

``That explains a lot,'' Tara mused.

``Would you really eat cat food for the rest of your life to be with me?''

``Maybe for the good stuff. Real meat. Real fish.''

I wasn't sure I liked guys, particularly someone I saw as a friend, but my body seemed to be responding to him. In animals, it would've been governed by pheromones. I knew humans gave off pheromones but lacked the equipment to process them. I took a deep breath. The effect was immediate. I needed to kiss him. He was a head and a half taller. I jumped into his arms, locking onto him with my knees and putting my arms over his shoulders. As I started kissing him, I started to realize that most of my skirt had bunched up around him and the rest was bunching around my tail as it rose. I had my knees around a guy, I was kissing him, and I was mooning my sister. She deserved nothing less.

My eyes were closed as we continued kissing. Out of nowhere he grabbed my ass with both hands and pushed up. Our eyes opened wide at the same time. He realized he had grabbed only panties and not a skirt.

``I was just \ldots{} trying to give you \ldots{} some support.''

I realized it was true. I had no idea what to say but my body did. I started to purr and closed the tiny distance to continue kissing him, his hands still grabbing my ass through my panties.

``Is jumping into a guy's arms and passionately kissing him while you moon passers by a normal occurrence on your planet?''

I considered his question. ``Not particularly.''

``But it does happen?''

It was the response I was hoping for. I shrugged.

Tara made a disgusted noise and walked around us, out to the hall, and down the stairs.

``I think she's going to get her mom,'' Jason whispered.

I sighed. I disentangled from him and he let me down. I tried to get the skirt down, managing in the front but not in the back. My tail was fully up and wasn't coming down. I took up a position near the centre of the room and faced the door. He came up beside me and took my hand in a strong, firm, but comfortable grip.

I heard Tara and Mom coming up the stairs. They came in the room.

Mom spoke first. ``Tara told me how you didn't expect to get her pregnant. I guess you have some wiggle room there. She also said that you're willing to go a long way to stay together.''

``As far as it takes.''

``Good. I'm going to set you up with an apartment. A place people don't ask questions. She will need to stay out of sight, and she will need you. When you finish college, I will expect to be reimbursed with an interest rate less than what the banks charge, not necessarily all at once.''

``What if I go away for college?''

``I will find another apartment. As long as it's a reasonably large city. Paying for an apartment in arrears, even with interest less than what the banks charge, will still be a major drain on your finances. That is the cost of what you've done.''

He turned to me. ``No going to your planet?''

I shook my head.

``Damn!''

I saw a hint of a grin on Tara's face. Mom was going for carefully neutral.

``Will you say something to my family?''

``Yes.''

``I agree.''

I was so happy I turned my whole body towards his.

``Would you lower your tail?'' Mom grumbled.

``She can't Mom, it goes up when she's \ldots{} extremely happy.''

``And you put the skirt over her tail?''

``Don't forget the bell.''

I turned back to Tara and Mom, who were making a hasty exit.

I dashed a few steps and found a strong arm around my waist. I turned back toward him, not worried about flashing anyone in the hallway. My anger was making my tail drop anyway. I heard them quickly descend the stairs.

``Tara dressed you?''

``It was a punishment for looking through her things.''

``If you get \ldots{} aroused, your tail goes up. You can't make it go down. It catches your skirt and the bell at the end of your tail lets everyone know to look?''

``And you held me back as they left!''

``That is so fucking hot.''

What Tara did made me angry but it was turning Jason on. I could smell it. I was arousing the boy in front of me, and his pheromones were making me aroused. I heard my tail bell. It was getting up near my head again. I could feel over my tail and on my ass that my skirt was bunching again.

``Since you seem to be in a question answering mood right now, what's your name?''

I was a little shocked. He had basically proposed, though without a ring. ``Call me Sierra.''

``That's pretty.''

``Thanks.''

He looked up as though expecting someone in the doorway to say something. I hadn't heard anyone come up the stairs but I was worried about flashing someone. I spun.

He grabbed my tail right near the bow and bell.

``Can't believe I fell for the oldest trick in the book.'' I tried to turn.

He grabbed my tail with his other hand, slid it down to the base getting under my skirt, and tightened his grip.

I squirmed and had to stop because of the pain near the base of my tail. I reached back to try to get his hand away, trying to pry his hand off, but got nowhere.

``I'm hoping that you're playing, and if you had a real problem, you'd tell me.''

``I would. The words came out breathy and aroused. ``You have me by the tail, physically and emotionally, and I love it.

Daughter of Bastet

``So, we're supposed to be here, right, Tyler?'' Ian asked me as we descended into the tomb. He had a very large backpack. I'd known him for about three days. He was in his early forties like myself, though he was a bit rougher around the edges in appearance and personality.

``You mean not offending the dead, the gods, the authorities?''

``Oh God. You think these gas masks will make sure we don't get any curses?''

``Yeah.''

``I'll ask it another way. Whose permission do we have to be here?''

``How much do you know about Egyptian politics?''

``Nothin'. We have someone's permission?''

``Yeah, for sure. Let's just do what we came for.''

I guided us down. There was no discussion until we got to the bottom. The sarcophagus dominated the room. The walls were dense with hieroglyphics.

``You're up, Ian.''

I helped him get his backpack off and onto the ground. It took him a few minutes to unpack everything and set it all up. I knew as much about his gear as he knew about Egyptian politics. It looked like ruggedized electronics. Every time somebody came up with something new, I was one of the guides.

He picked up a tablet and tapped several times. ``Cool.''

I could see an image on the tablet.

He held the tablet up and walked over to one wall. ``What the fuck?''

``You're gonna have to be more specific.''

``Do you see these channels?''

``I see some shapes on the tablet.''

``There's some kind of patterned structure behind the wall. He turned around. ``Behind all of them!

``The tablet has X--ray vision?'' I deadpanned.

``No, the equipment generates terahertz waves and processes them. The tablet's just a viewing device.''

He walked all around the room. His equipment mapped what he was calling channels while I supplied the meaning for the hieroglyphics that the channels connected to. There were twenty one.

I was racking my brain. There was nothing tying them together.

``Don't they have an order, like the dictionary?''

``No dictionaries survived. We've made some but they won't be in the same order.''

``You told me before that we didn't need full hazmat suits because bacteria needs food, viruses fall apart on hard surfaces after a few days, and all these surfaces have been checked out for mercury, arsenic, and all that.''

``Yeah.''

He held up the tablet. Before I could stop him he was touching hieroglyphics. The damage was done. I let him finish.

He turned and walked to a corner. ``No fucking way!''

I walked over to him and looked at the tablet. I could see a ladder. There were channels between us and the ladder. I looked at the floor. It looked solid.

``That wasn't there a second ago!''

``How did you know which order?''

``The channels have different lengths, then they bend and go down. Shortest to longest.''

``How far down is that ladder?''

``A foot or so.''

``How do we get down to it?''

He moved the tablet around the floor. He walked across the room and pulled what looked like a small paintbrush out of one of the boxes and brought it back. He gently brushed a part of the floor. There was a gap.

``That's new!''

He brushed away a line that made a square in the corner with the two walls. ``Seven channels. Much shorter. I need more resolution. He brought some of the equipment over to the other side of the room. ``OK. He pressed seven points on the floor.

The section of floor descended with no sound. It slid sideways into an unseen alcove, revealing the ladder.

I pointed, shocked. ``It's stainless steel! Untouched! No dust!''

``Yeah.'' Ian took another look with the tablet. ``I didn't see the alcove that block slid into. The ladder goes down and then \ldots{} nothing. But there's a room down there. The tablet will be useless down there and it would take several trips to get everything down and up.

I pulled the radio off my belt. ``We found something new.''

The radio crackled. ``Define new.''

Ian talked over it. ``Tell them to give us an hour.''

``We're gonna check it out. One hour till next checkin. Radio silence.''

``Confirmed.''

Ian beat me to it. He tested the first rung, tested the rung as low as he could start, and then descended.

It was tricky descending a ladder that had the first foot of rungs missing, but I managed it about as well as Ian had.

I got to the bottom. Light seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. There was a strange looking plinth in the centre of the room, as if a large upright TV had been grafted to the back end of a drafting table. The walls were semi--metallic grey like nothing I'd seen. Everything looked brand new.

Ian pumped a fist in the air. ``Yes! I knew aliens built the pyramids.''

I was about to launch into a tirade that I had ready and waiting for people who brought that up. Yet, he seemed to have a point.

Ian was finishing an inspection of the plinth, taking copious pictures with his phone. ``No rivets. No seams. No screws. No idea how to take it apart and see what's inside. I have a sneaking suspicion my gear would find nothing.''

I tried the radio. ``We've reached an unmapped room.''

There was nothing, not even static.

Ian touched the plinth.

``Has anyone told you you have a nasty habit of touching things?''

``You bet. Every single one of my many many girlfriends.''

``Yeah, whatever.''

The plinth came to life. A few hieroglyphics appeared on the TV portion and a couple dozen on the drafting table portion.

``What does it say?''

``First of all, the text is green on white. Green is the colour of fresh growth, vegetation, new life and resurrection. White is the colour of purity, sacredness, cleanliness and simplicity. It's asking for my name. The lower portion is all the consonants. Ancient Egyptians didn't write vowels. There's a word here which serves as an enter key, white on green. I think it's a keyboard.''

``Write your name!''

``What if it's the wrong one? What if it's a user ID?''

As Ian tried to get me to put in my name and I continued to say no, more text displayed on the screen.

``What does it say?''

``The concept of \textit{ma'at} is wide reaching. I think it wants the truth.''

``Did it hear us talking?''

``I don't think so. There's no way it could figure out English so quickly. I think it was timed.''

``If you don't, a whole bunch of other people are going to be in here, they'll take this out of our hands, they'll post guards with automatic weapons, and we'll never find out what this is.''

I typed the closest approximation of my name and pressed what passed for the enter key.

More text appeared. Something shifted on the plinth. There was a small stainless steel spike in a bowl shaped depression. Ian rushed over to take a closer look.

``What does it say?!''

``It wants blood to establish my identity.''

``It's biometric?! Wicked! Do it!''

``Easy for you to say.''

``It has to be good. If we can lock this session to your DNA then they can't freeze us out! It looks sterile. Everything in here does. Do you think it's going to kill you?''

More text appeared on the screen.

``Blood is required to continue. Prick your finger.''

``If there's any chance we could be part of the ongoing research, it's gotta be worth it.''

``Then you do it.''

As he reached toward the spike, a cover closed over it. More text appeared.

``It wants my blood. It's asking me by name. My name, my blood.''

Ian moved back. The cover opened.

With trepidation, I did it. It hurt. I immediately started sucking my finger.

More text appeared.

``What does it say?!''

``Still working that out. Did you think I was going to read it and then not tell you? The first part is just a greeting. This is really rough, but I think it's asking me to choose an avatar.''

``Meaning what?''

``No idea. And then a question. Male or female.''

``That's easy. I always choose a female avatar.''

I reached up and touched the glyph cluster for female. The colours inverted. More text appeared.

``Height?''

``Five--four.''

``Why \ldots{} oh. Your favourite ass kicking female from your favourite series of all time. Huh.''

``Glad I was able to wear away some of that ivory tower of yours in the couple days we've known each other. Maybe I'll be able to find you a girl.''

I was thinking of the height conversion as an interesting problem to be solved. I had an app on my phone that converted to ancient Egyptian units. ``Three cubits and a digit is almost five--three.''

``Cool.''

It took a bit to enter it. The interface was strangely like a phone, with completion suggestions popping up.

It accepted my entry and displayed more text. ``It's asking if we want a tail? I think?''

``That's so hot!''

``Alright.'' I tapped the glyph cluster on the TV portion on the plinth.

An image of a cat girl appeared on the right of the display in a simple white robe. A tail curled to one side. It was in full colour.

``Kinda looks like you, Tyler.''

``Oh, shut up.''

``Seriously. A cat girl.''

``Some say the goddess Bastet was the first cat girl.''

``Well my reading list just changed.''

``There are lots of interesting reasons to study ancient Egyptian culture but I don't think that's one of them. There's tons of options here. Voice? I think?''

``We don't have that much time. Just pick the cutest, hottest options and let's move on.''

``Well, I'll do my best. I ran through the options quickly. ``Now, I complete or confirm the selections. I tapped a glyph cluster.

More text appeared. ``Please wait.''

Ian groaned. ``No indication of how long?''

``Nope.''

``Starting to think the aliens have been here since.''

We waited nervously for several minutes. More text appeared.

``It's asking me by name to put my arm against the white square on the wall.''

``Holy shit!''

A square on the wall had suddenly turned from a semi--metallic grey to white.

More text appeared. ``It's estimating it will be 43 years before another avatar form can be chosen.''

``Why are you standing around? Let's go!''

In a daze, I walked over to the white square on the wall. I awkwardly stood so my arm could rest along the wall. I felt a jab through my top. ``Ow!''

We shared a glance. ``Shit!'' we chorused.

If I'd been injected with something, my primary goal was getting up the ladder. It would be a mess trying to get me up if I was unconscious or unable to climb. Ian understood and didn't move. I quickly got over to the ladder and started climbing. Ian wasn't far behind. I got to the top.

I pulled my radio from my belt. ``Code yellow, I repeat, code yellow. Copy.''

``Code yellow, copy.''

I turned to Ian, his head popping through and starting to turn.

``Get the fuck out. You don't know how this gear packs anyway.''

``Thanks, man.'' I left the tomb at the fastest speed I dared.

When I got to the entrance, I was surprised to see two people already in hazmat suits.

``When you said you found something new, we wanted to be ready for anything.'' He was speaking through a crackly speaker and I couldn't see his face. I couldn't tell who was who.

``Ian's packing up.''

``What did you find down there?''

``Evidence that aliens build the pyramids.''

He laughed. ``No, really.''

``You're not going to believe it. You'll have to wait for Ian. It would go quicker if you helped him.''

``Call me superstitious, but right here is the closest I ever get to a tomb. I didn't sign up for extraction.''

``What about you?'' I asked the other one.

``Newp.''

We waited in tense silence. We only had one Code Yellow team. Ian and I would have to go together.

At the 10 minute mark I was just about to head back in when he came out. We got in the back of the van with the equipment.

``You OK, Tyler?''

``Physically, fine. Mentally, don't ask.''

``Yeah.''

They drove us to a quarantine lab. It's impossible to put into words how boring life in quarantine is. Over the next few days we learned shockingly little. Another team had gone down and couldn't find the channels, the ladder, or the room, with exactly the same equipment. The pictures on Ian's phone were the only record of what was in that room. The channels had been recorded on the equipment. I had an unknown illness of an unknown type. Ian didn't and was released from quarantine. I felt like shit but I was still able to take care of the essentials. I was sleeping 16 hours a day.

It took weeks before the top epidemiologists in the world had the first indications that whatever I had was tailored specifically to my DNA. I was popular, yet sequestered.

By that point, they had noticed that the blend of viruses was having a huge effect on every one of my bodily systems. As they raced to come up with a cure, or at least a treatment, they discovered that even if they managed to cure me now, half of my body would fight the other half.

At that point, they decided that if they couldn't stop it, they would give my body every resource to fight it or let it take it's course. I agreed to a medically induced coma, half out of boredom.

I awoke to a cute nurse. I didn't have to look to know that I was on my back wearing a hospital gown in a hospital bed. The room was large. I was the only one in it. I didn't see any other beds.

``Morning,'' I said, full of gravel. My voice seemed wrong.

``Hey! I'm Abby. It's out of your system.''

I felt the bed, which was to be expected, but I wasn't feeling it with my legs, my back, my arms, or my head. The feel of the bed on each one of those was familiar. Sounds were different too but I couldn't put my finger on it.

``You're in perfect health.''

``Water,'' I croaked.

She slipped a straw between my lips.

I started slow but quickly drained it. ``What did the viruses do?'' I asked. Now that the gravel and croak were gone, I could tell it was a woman's voice. Possibly a girl's voice.

``You're younger. In better shape overall. Your muscles have atrophied but you'll be at full strength in no time.''

I looked down. I think they had tried to bind them but there was no disguising breasts that large. ``How old do I look?''

``You could pass for eighteen.''

I had been feeling the bed with a new limb. ``I have a tail.''

``Yes.''

``Is it cute?''

She grinned. ``Very!''

``Cat ears too?''

``Yes. Very cute. Both with short, white fur.''

``And I'm a woman with generous breasts.''

She hesitated.

``Yeah. So what now?''

``You've been in a coma for almost six months. We transferred you back to the United States. That was not easy with you full of viruses we've never seen. You're in Maryland. We'll want to slowly get you back on your feet.''

I winced. ``When are you going to let me have a mirror?''

She frowned. ``Do you feel like sleeping?''

``Yes.''

She nodded.

I was out so fast I wondered if she gave me something.

I woke. The lights were low. There was no window. The only exit was an airlock. I pressed the red button on the end of the cord.

``Hey! I'll be right in.''

I watched her walk through the airlock.

``What do you need?''

``What have you found out about the tomb?''

``No one has been able to get back in. Requests to dig in the tomb have been stonewalled. Ian still has the theory with the greatest number of adherents. Aliens left a puzzle box. Something that could only be opened with modern technology. Something that had to wait until our current level of development. A device that makes a bridge, an avatar, between us and them. You. If he's right, they're coming back. And you will be our ambassador.''

``No pressure.''

``They wanted a scientist. A linguist. Not a diplomat. That's you. We have to assume the machine sent some kind of signal. No one knows how long it will take to get to them or how long it will take for them to get to us. The terminal you interacted with is only the tip of the iceberg. We can't sequence DNA faster than it took that machine to produce several viruses based on your DNA. There must be a massive computing cluster connected to that terminal. But enough of that. Your focus should be gaining strength. We can give you some ankle weights. You can do some bicycles. We can bring in every piece of equipment from a typical gym. We'll have to work together on your tail. We believe you'll need it to be strong to keep it out of the way of your legs.''

``That's remarkably complete.''

``We knew you'd ask. I practiced. But everyone's talking about it. We've been lucky to keep your identity and location from getting out.''

``Why would it be bad if people knew where I was?''

``You're important. Everyone's talking about it. Some people just want to watch the world burn.''

``What happened to my stuff?''

``Your parents are paying your condo fees. You're very lucky to have it paid off.''

``I'm a loner. Don't need much room. Don't have expensive vices. Always was careful with money. So all my stuff is exactly where I left it?''

``Yes. Do you feel like sleeping, eating, or strengthening?''

``Sleeping.''

``Hit the red button when you're ready for something else.''

``Night.''

``I'll keep the lights lowered for you.''

The next day, Mom came in. She told me I was completely unrecognizable, so she asked me a ton of personal questions. She made sure I was comfortable and let me get more sleep.

Over the next few days, I built strength in my legs and arms. I was able to get a number of my favourite dishes. I tried not to think about the catheters. I discovered that Ian had done a full debrief and was taking my transformation hard. I told nurse Abby to pass a message to Ian: I was not out for his blood.

A week after I'd come out of the coma I could walk short distances. I walked slowly enough that my tail wasn't an issue. The bathroom was large. I was able to go, though I needed to sit sideways on the seat. I didn't recognize anything down there but I didn't need to potty train myself again. I was still wearing a hospital gown. I had a binding for my breasts like a ludicrously large and long bandage, not exactly a bra, but it was extremely helpful. It helped mentally that I wasn't wearing a bra.

Someone retrieved a video game console, my TV, my computer, and my monitors from my condo and Abby and I set them up. Internet and video games helped immensely. They got me my phone but took the SIM card out. They told me not to post anything online, for my own safety. Apparently, I was something of a celebrity.

I hated chairs, even with a hole. A bean bag chair and couch showed up and I loved them. I discovered I was not in the hospital but in a specially designed room in a lab. All the equipment was real medical equipment.

I needed to break up the monotony of exercise. I had done a little taekwondo in the past, only a few belts. I looked up videos of basic steps. I tried them in combinations at different speeds trying for fluidity. It would take time.

A day passed. A middle--aged woman who was very careful with her words and constantly seemed to be trying to gauge my mental state helped me with taking care of business downstairs, including during that time of the month. Then she told me my DNA was so different it was an open question as to whether I was still human, so she didn't know what to expect.

The next day, after Abby had taken my breakfast tray, she told me, ``You're done with the ankle and wrist weights. We want to try something like that on your tail. You're going to need to keep it up, at least a little, the entire time you're walking.''

We went through several things: too heavy, not heavy enough, wouldn't stay in place, too tight. Abby was determined to figure something out. The next day, she had found a long thin rectangular pad that was very slightly abrasive on both sides. She flitted it around the end of my tail and put a small white bow around it.

``Does that work?''

``It feels OK. It's insufferably cute.''

``No, insufferably cute would be large and pink.''

``Fine.''

Two days later with breakfast, Abby asked if I wanted some clothes.

``You think I'd say no?''

``You'll need a mirror.''

``Oh. I think I'm ready.''

They brought in a full length mirror mid--morning and gave me privacy.

I walked slowly up to the mirror. I was movie--star hot and super cute. The girl in the mirror was utterly shocked. My white ears were incredible. I had very short white hair. My tail was hidden behind the full--length hospital gown.

In a daze, I reached behind myself and untied the gown. I pulled it over my head and held it to my side. My breasts were bound and I was wearing a similar strip of cloth wrapped down there and tied off. Anything off the shelf didn't work with my tail. I tried not to think that I was wearing a diaper. My tail bow was barely visible.

If I wanted to be in a movie with no acting experience, I would be hired on the spot as long as I acted cute, on screen and off. I don't know how long I stared. I wasn't ready to see myself naked. I put the robe back on.

I ate lunch at a table on a bean bag chair.

After lunch, Abby came in to take my tray. She was in scrubs as usual. ``We received a number of applications to be your tailor.''

``I didn't know you posted something.''

``We didn't. We're concerned about the ability for a straight man to be professional, considering you're going to need underwear.''

``Sounds like you're stereotyping.''

``Do you understand your position? You're still gaining strength, you're going to be naked for some of it, you're in a hospital room, you're breathtakingly hot and exotic. You also don't know consistent nonverbal communication to shut a guy down. How's that going to play out?''

I said nothing.

``And your voice.''

``What's wrong with my voice?''

``Absolutely nothing. Do you want us to short list people for you? You can interview them over video chat or in person. You can be as involved as you like.''

``How many applications did you get?''

``Almost a hundred.''

``Short list twenty for me.''

``No problem.''

``Who's bankrolling all of this?''

``All major world governments want a piece of this. Private corporations too. We reimbursed your parents for the condo fees.''

``Why?''

``It appears you're going to be Earth's ambassador. They're sucking up. They're fighting over funding whatever you need.''

``I don't know how I feel about that.''

``Fair enough. I paused. ``It's always you. No other nurses. No doctors. You and my guests.

``You are my only responsibility.''

``Wow. What is that like?''

``Quiet. It works for me.''

``What if I need you and you're in the bathroom?''

She gestured to something small and black above her breasts.

``Huh?''

``Wireless mic and speaker. It connects to a transmitter under my scrubs.''

``Can't see it.''

She bent down. It looked like a tiny speaker. Something else became clear.

``Thanks.''

She stood.

``Thanks for clearing up something else.''

``What?''

``Not sure how to say this like a \ldots{} gentleman.''

``I sponge bathed you while you were unconscious. I think we're past that.''

``OK, fine. I still like girls. Ugh, that sounded wrong. Women.''

``You didn't know before?''

``My sex drive seems to be set a lot lower now.''

She nodded thoughtfully. ``How does that make you feel?''

I considered the question. ``Clean.''

``I don't know what I expected, exactly, and it's unprecedented, but you seem remarkably calm about the whole thing.''

``I saw it myself with my own eyes. The chamber below the tomb won't open again for over 40 years. Any news on my hormones?''

She shook her head.

``So transitioning is out. All the screaming in the world isn't going to help. Moving on is the only option.''

She nodded and left.

I pulled out my phone and opened the voice notes app.

I tried beseeching. ``I don't suppose there's any way you can make an exception, just this once?''

I tried sultry. ``It's time you found out what it's like to be with someone really wild.''

I tried angry. ``Damn you, you bitch!''

I tried nothing at all. ``Hi! I'm Tatiana.''

I played them back. They were all incredibly cute. Angry and sultry sounded silly. I started recording again.

``Hi! I'm Tori. I'm Tessa. I'm Tiffany.''

I played them back. I liked the sound of Tatiana.

I went all out with the cuteness. ``Hi! I'm Tatiana and I like kitties and puppies!''

I played it back. My jaw dropped. I could play a little girl character in an animated series for girls.

I walked over to my computer and started searching for short forms for Tatiana. I liked Ana the best. I also discovered to my disappointment that Tatiana meant fairy princess.

I played music on my phone and practiced singing. I was horrible. It would take time but I thought people would expect me to be able to, so I decided to stick with it.

Abby brought supper. I ate. When she was taking it away, I said, ``I really like the sound of Tatiana but I found out it means fairy princess.''

``Choosing a new name. That's good. A step forward. Not many would know what it means. If you like it, use it.''

``Can you make it official?''

``Yeah, but I think someone will need to come here in person. Clothes first.''

``Alright.''

Two days later, with breakfast, I had a folder of possibilities. By the end of the day, I narrowed it to three. I arranged for someone to do video interviews. A few days later, I reviewed them.

A week after that, Rose showed up. She had long blond hair and bright blue eyes. I didn't know much about fashion, but I presumed her black and white pantsuit was in fashion. She had a black purse and a bag. Her outfit and her personality were all business. She seemed tall but it was only because I was used to being five--eleven. Abby was short and I had been seated or in my bed for guests.

``I'm Rose.''

``Tatiana,'' I replied shaking her hand.

``Oh! That means fairy princess!''

I tried to keep a straight face. ``That's what they tell me.''

``Describe the clothing you want.''

I wasn't sure how to answer.

``Give me some adjectives.''

I frowned in thought. ``Unrestrictive? Light. To start with anyway. They keep the heat jacked up so I'm comfortable wearing an open backed gown. I looked behind myself and couldn't help twitching my tail. ``Accommodating.

``Yes! Of course.''

``How conservative do you usually dress?''

I frowned. ``I've never been out with this body. I wasn't ugly before, but, well. Conservative. Very.''

``I understand completely. Well. I understand where you're coming from and I respect your decision. I don't know that anyone could truly understand.''

Did she know I used to be a guy?

``Have you thought about shoes?''

``I'm getting the feeling I'm not going to be leaving any time soon.''

She looked offended. ``If I had my way, I'd march you straight outside and to hell with the consequences. You should be out there breaking mens' hearts, not cooped up in some lab.''

``I prefer women.''

``Oh. Well. I think you'll find you don't need to date them to break them. Shoes.''

``Like I said. I don't think they're going to let me.''

``Shoes are an essential part of any outfit. How tall are you?''

``Barely five--three.''

``Pumps.''

``I don't know.''

``Pumps.''

So she didn't know I used to be a guy. I couldn't tell her no. ``OK.''

``I'll need to take some measurements.''

``OK.''

``That was my subtle request for you to disrobe.''

``Oh. Right.'' I reached back and untied the gown. I noticed my sex drive was still low. I took it off and hung it on a hook near my bed.

``Are you wearing a white bow on your white tail?''

``It's for strengthening. Like an ankle weight.''

``Why not use it as an opportunity?''

``Thought anything else would be insufferably cute.''

``You're trying to downplay your cuteness?!''

``Never been out.''

She put her hand on her chest and looked at me with pain in her eyes. ``You're not used to attention.''

I shook my head.

``What type of makeup do you use?''

``I don't.''

She was shocked. ``You roll out of bed looking like that?!''

``I think I remembered to brush my hair this morning. I hope I did.''

She shook her head in incredulity. ``We should move on. I can see why they were specific about underwear. She walked over to the table. She pulled a tape measure and notebook out and left the purse and notebook on the table.

She measured me all over, going back every few measurements to take notes. ``They were very specific. No phones, no tablets, no laptops. Old school only. Now, I see why. They do not want so much as a picture of your upper back getting out.''

I said nothing.

When she was done with the measurements she pulled out what looked like two flattened shoeboxes. She had me sit down after taking off my socks. The shoeboxes were casts. I pressed each foot inside.

She nodded with satisfaction, put the lids on the boxes, and packed it up. ``I should measure you for your underwear.''

I undid the bows and tossed both long pieces of cloth in a laundry hamper.

``Did you say you preferred women?''

``I did. It's complicated.'' I walked across the room toward her wearing only a small, nearly invisible bow on my tail.

``I am immeasurably jealous.''

I said nothing.

She took the final measurements and wrote them down. ``I'm all set with the measurements. How do you go to the bathroom?''

I walked to the bathroom only vaguely aware I was naked. I showed her the semi--portable boxy Japanese toilet they had set up. Pipes connected water and waste. It looked improvised but they ran the pipes along the outside edge of the tub to keep me from stepping on them. ``I take my gown off, I take my underwear off, normally just the bottoms, I step up on here, I squat, flush, wash up, and put fresh underwear on.''

I washed up and grabbed fresh linens from the cabinet under the sink and made underwear out of them, tying each one off expertly.

``I'm straight and I'm struggling to maintain my professionalism.''

I walked back over near my bed and put my robe back on.

``Anything else you'd like to add?''

``No pink.''

She frowned.

``Please?!'' I blurted. I didn't like the way it came out.

``OK. But I strongly suggest you work with what you have.''

I frowned.

``You won't be able to stay here forever. You're better off working with your cuteness, not against it. If you want to avoid attention, you're better off putting yourself out of everyone's league.''

``We'll see.''

Rose had a haunted look. She packed up the rest of her things and left.

I told Abby I needed to work. She had someone come in and install some kind of special email program on my computer.

There was no shortage of people who wanted me specifically to double check a translation. My work was reviewed internally to ensure I hadn't left anything that could be traced back to my location and then sent on. I felt useful.

Caught (Level)

When sis came home from school, I was there. I was doing homework at the desk in my room.

She popped her head through the door. ``Are you planning to wear the outfit for Ryan tonight?''

``Hell, no!''

``Then you're going to need to get used to wearing something else.''

I gave her a sour look.

``Up to you.''

``Fine.'' I dropped my pen on the desk, marched all the way to her dresser and yanked the bottom drawer out.

There was a flash of light. I was Aiko again, wearing the short white dress.

As I went to leave, I heard her make a noise.

I turned. ``What?!''

``That's a shift. You don't wear it on top.''

``I don't care.''

``Mom will.''

``So what?''

``You're going to need her help.''

I groaned.

Tara walked to her closet and took a look. She pulled out two dresses.

Caught (Locker Scene)

Ryan met Tara at her locker.

He pulled the owl out of his backpack. ``Here.''

``Cool.''

``You don't seem weirded out by any of this.''

Tara frowned.

``You're acting like any of what's going on is \ldots{} normal. And I'm not just talking about the \ldots he trailed off as he looked around. ``Shared dreams, he whispered. ``I thought we were done. That whatever we had was over. And then \ldots''

Tara said nothing.

``Did she tell you?''

``You two were intimate.''

``Uh. Yeah. Is she normally like that, about to crush your heart one minute and then \ldots''

``I haven't actually known her that long.''

``You gotta help me. Something. Anything.''

``Enjoy it while it lasts.''

``How do I make it last?''

``Ryan, from what I've heard and from what I've managed to piece together in the short time I've known her, she is a force of nature. You could be a perfect gentleman and still lose her. If you lose her, I highly doubt it will be your fault. Try not to take it personally. Try to move on as soon as you can.''

He frowned at Tara's locker.

``And if you two break up, you will get your statuette back. In one piece. Undamaged. She may be a force of nature, but she isn't cruel.''

``That wasn't the advice I was looking for. How do I keep her?''

Tara laughed and shook her head. ``How do you keep the wind?''

Ryan frowned.

``Ryan, I don't know the answer to your question. I don't know her that well.''

``Who does? Do you know her friends?''

Tara shook her head. ``For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I agree that the situation is unfair to you.''

``Then talk to her.''

``She doesn't listen to me.''

The bell rang. He nodded sadly and walked away.

https://www.google.ca/amp/s/www.geeksforgeeks.org/find-paths-given-source-destination/amp/

Caught

I woke to Mom knocking on my bedroom door. I bolted upright. I was male and wearing boxers.

I sighed dramatically.

``You must've forgotten to set your alarm. Tara said she got a text from Ryan. Avocado?''

``Shit. You said it wasn't going to happen again!''

``Tara and I talked after she got the text. What were you wearing when you met?''

``That ridiculous outfit.''

``You were wearing it, but you didn't choose it.''

``God, no!''

``It was him.''

``He's a witch?!''

``No. We would've noticed. He must have an artifact. Something in his bedroom. It must've triggered the night after you two met. We don't believe he understands what he has. Do you remember anything that might have seemed out of place or anything that drew your eye?''

``I was \ldots{} focused on him.'' I went red.

``Check next time. Get him to talk about everything in the room.''

``Next time?! You have to \textit{do} something!''

``I \textit{am} doing something. There's nothing I can do about an artifact that's in his room.''

``Can't you do anything from this end? Ward my bedroom or something? There has to be some way to stop it from happening again!''

``There is. You could find it before tonight.''

``How?!''

``By going to his bedroom today, before you sleep, and finding the artifact.''

Finally, I was getting somewhere. ``OK. How do I do that?''

``By being Aiko.''

I groaned. ``I am not going to his house and going into his bedroom, like that, for real!''

``That's what I thought, which is why I only mentioned it when you pressed me.''

``There must be some way of protecting myself.''

``You can say no. Tell him you don't like what's happening.''

``It's different in the moment. I can't seem to say no to him. When I'm with him, it's like I'm a love--sick girl.''

https://www.google.ca/amp/s/www.geeksforgeeks.org/find-paths-given-source-destination/amp/

Book Charlotte Update: Football Team

It was a Saturday, and Charlotte was walking to the library. She was walking down the street, surrounded by endless houses. A group of boys was walking towards her. Her situational awareness wasn’t much better than when she had left, but she couldn’t miss the sound of several pairs of feet behind her. She noticed a few more boys on the other side of the street. \textit{Trapped. Running isn’t an option.} She guessed that the footsteps behind her were closest. She stopped and turned.

They were all boys. ``Hey, Roswell! Eat dirt!’’

``\textit{Children.}’’

They looked at each other, aghast. \textit{Yep, I made them madder, but I only needed to shock them into stopping for a second. Do they believe the rumours?}

She shook her head derisively. ``You know you could beat me up if I chose not to use my powers, and I know that. So what’s the point? Are you calling me out? Do you want to go to the hospital today?’’

Their faces changed from angry to confused, and back to angry.

\textit{I’m too annoyed. I went too far. Time to show my hand.} Charlotte flung out one hand toward one group and one hand in the other direction. Boys in both groups jumped out of the way. \textit{They believe the rumours. Good.} She heated a tiny ball of air into a plasma in the centre of both groups and quenched it. \textit{Hopefully no one at the windows of the surrounding houses will have a clear view.}

Half the boys jumped and cursed. The other half were asking the others what happened.

In the chaos, Charlotte called out, ``Fine. You called my bluff. Are we done here?’’

``You called us children!’’ the lead boy called out.

``If you don’t want me to think of you as children, don’t act like children. You’re here to beat me up. Why? Because I’m too smart? Because I’m too popular? Because I’m too different? And if I let you, what then? I’m wasting my breath. You’re not old enough to understand.’’

``I’m old enough to understand anything you can!’’ the lead boy called out.

``Then prove it.’’ Charlotte sat on the sidewalk.

The lead boy sat, and everyone else followed, most sitting on the grass, and a few on the sidewalk. The group that had been across the street filled in around both groups. Charlotte was surrounded. Some of the boys tried to ask questions and were quickly shushed.

``A man hits another man, who pulls a gun. The first man dies. His son swears revenge and kills the other man. Whose son swears revenge, and so on. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, a life for a life. It used to be how things were. That was what was right. Most people don’t think it’s right anymore.

``A woman went to a shop, and the cashier was rude to her. She was about to give the cashier a nasty comment, but the woman realized it wasn’t about her. The cashier had probably had a terrible day. The woman said goodbye, and left.

``A man was cut off in traffic, and an accident almost happened. He honked his horn, and he was so mad he wasn’t paying attention and nearly side—swiped someone minutes later.

``Now, what did you learn?’’

His brow furrowed. He was really trying to understand. Some of the boys said something, and others shushed them.

He replied, ``Sometimes, if you do something bad to someone, it starts a cycle. A cycle of people getting hurt.’’

``Good. Anything else?’’

``If someone realizes it, they can stop the cycle?’’

``Yes. I’m going to add another wrinkle. The same person can be stuck in a cycle, then end a \textit{different} one an hour later. You can’t always be above. Sometimes you get dragged down. The point is constantly \textit{trying} to be above. Trying to see the cycles. If someone hurts you, you’re going to want to hurt them back, and get a eye for an eye. But if you can see from above, you can end a cycle, and you can prevent a lot of people getting hurt.’’

``Are you Jesus?’’

Charlotte nearly laughed, but at the last moment realized he was serious. ``Huh?’’

``Jesus spent time with the outcasts. So do you. He did things no one could explain. So do you. He taught people with riddles, and spoke with authority. So do you.’’

\textit{Oops.} ``No, I’m not Jesus. Who are you?’’

``Jason Allen.’’ He seemed surprised that she didn’t know his name.

\textit{Jason Allen? Quarterback of the Junior Football team Jason Allen? The football team has surrounded me. They wanted to teach me a lesson, and I’m teaching them one instead.}

``What happened while you were away?’’

``I saw the Earth from space. No names, no borders, no boundaries. It was whole. Not divided. It was beautiful. I couldn’t \textit{help} but see things from above. From up there, all our struggles and wars seemed so petty, regardless of how long ago they started, or why.’’

After a long pause, Jason whispered, ``I know adults that speak with less authority than you.’’

``I met someone who has lived almost a millennia, and expects to live a couple more millennia. That \textit{authority} rubbed off on me.’’

``Somebody said the principal talks to you like an equal.’’

``He treats me like an adult sometimes. I don’t think \textit{equal} is the right word.’’

A woman walked up the sidewalk to the group. ``What’s going on?’’

The boys shushed her.

Charlotte stopped herself from laughing.

``How can we talk like you?’’ Jason asked.

``Why do you want to talk like me?’’

``Nobody listens to us!’’

``Yeah!’’ the boys yelled.

``What are you trying to say?’’

``School sucks!’’

The boys cheered.

``I agree. And I’m sure every adult you tell that to thought that school sucked too. If you want people to listen, you have to say something new.’’

``Like what?’’

``Why does school suck \textit{for you}?’’

``It’s \textit{so. Boring}!’’

The boys cheered again. The woman was still standing next to the group, unsure of what to do.

``It was boring for the adults too. They see it as something you just have to do, because they did it.’’

``It’s a cycle!’’ Jason gasped. ``How do we end it?!’’

Charlotte spared a glance at the woman, who looked concerned. Charlotte turned back to Jason. ``School is pretty entrenched. It’ll take decades to dismantle it. But the ball is already rolling.’’

``You’re \ldots\ ending school?’’

\textit{Personally? They sure have a lot of faith in me. I’m girl Jesus, here to save all the children from the evil institution of school.} ``\textit{Me?} No. You’re going to want to find out about John Holt, who coined the term \textit{unschooling} in 1977.’’

Jason stood. ``Unschooling? I like the sound of that.’’

Charlotte stood. ``Decades, remember? You can save your own kids from school, but I doubt your parents are going to go for it. Can you take the hit, without hitting back, to end it?’’

``\textit{Yeah.} What was that guy’s name?’’

``John Holt.’’

``Let’s all go to the library!’’

The boys cheered and streamed around her as they left.

``What just happened?’’ the woman asked.

``The junior football team came here to beat me up on my way to the library. I showed them a magic trick, something small but enough to put them off balance. I followed it up by making their leader prove he could understand a concept. I taught him about forgiveness. Then you showed up.’’

``Their future children. Did you just \ldots\ change all their lives?’’

``I hope so.’’

``So telling them that stuff about unschooling wasn’t a \ldots\ ploy to get rid of them?’’

Charlotte giggled. ``I didn’t say \textit{that}.’’

``Who \texitit{are} you?’’

\textit{I wish I knew.} ``Charlotte Carr.’’

``Oh.’’

``I see my reputation precedes me.’’

``How old are you?’’

``I grew up fast. I had no choice.’’

The woman nodded sadly. ``I heard about what happened.’’

Charlotte nodded.

The woman said nothing.

 ``I was headed to the library before, but I don’t want to go there now. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll head back to my residence.’’

``Why not say your hom—- oh.’’

Charlotte walked around the woman. The woman thought Charlotte didn’t use the word \textit{home} because it was gone. Charlotte had a home, but she wasn’t going there right now. There was no point correcting the woman’s assumption.

Book Charlotte Update: Everest

Charlotte floated in weightlessness about five stories above the tallest peak above sea level in the world. Michael was on her right, and Derek was on her left. They faced East, toward the sun that was moments from cresting the Himalayas.

Charlotte spotted small lights below and knew they were headlamps belonging to a group of climbers, but she could barely make them out in the pre--dawn glow.

Her training to get here only involved learning her way around scuba gear. She didn't even need to be in a pool. She was sure the training of the climbers below had been much more rigorous. The three invisible interlopers breathed out partly used air. It pooled around them, letting them talk to one another. She pulled her mouthpiece out.

``Are they going to make it in time?'' Charlotte asked, still looking down.

``That depends what you mean by \textit{in time}, Michael replied. ``Usually people want to summit Everest just \textit{after} sunrise. Leave for the summit too early, and you climb in the cold and dark too long. The \textit{descent} is generally considered to be harder. Also, Mount Everest is known for having the weather degrade in the late afternoon. They want to be off the high slopes by then.

As the sun peeked above the peak, Charlotte's interest was piqued. The monochrome mountains leapt into full colour.

Charlotte gasped, her jaw dropped, and her mouthpiece floated in front of her. She caught it and put it back into her mouth.

``The golden hour,'' Derek intoned. His delivery was unusual for him. His tone was serious and momentous.

Charlotte turned to him with a quizzical look.

``The golden hour, he repeated. ``That's what photographers call it. The hour just after sunrise and just before sunset. He pulled a small fabric pouch out of his messenger bag, then pulled a camera out of the pouch.

It didn't take her long to figure it out. She snapped a few pictures, clicking and using the manual wind with ease. She handed it back, not wanting to use too many pictures on the roll.

Michael stretched out his hand to the left and said a single word. ``Tibet.''

China was bathed in golden light.

Michael turned fluidly to the right as he indicated three more areas of interest. ``Bhutan, Bangladesh, Nepal.''

Derek followed, and Charlotte clumsily turned with them.

The triangle shape of Everest cast a shadow far larger than any Charlotte had ever seen. It was still moments after sunrise, and the low light and low angle made the shadow indistinct and monstrous.

Charlotte pulled her mouthpiece out. ``I've heard that phrase that it's hard to live in someone's shadow. Is it easy or hard to live here?''

``I'd go with hard, Michael whispered. ``But you can see for yourself, if you want. Other than the other places I took you, have you been outside Southwestern Ontario?

``No.''

``Perhaps seeing it first hand right now wouldn't be a good idea.''

``It's really that bad?'' Charlotte asked, with a hint of a whine.

``You're young, and you've never travelled, other than me showing you the tourist spots. I should show you some other parts of the world first. Compared to what you're used to, it might be very unsettling.''

Charlotte turned to Derek.

He nodded sadly.

Book Charlotte Update: Math

Charlotte heard Mr. Bailey stop writing on the blackboard. She was bored out of her mind and reading ahead in the textbook.

``These steps appear to be a proof that 1 equals 2, Mr. Bailey began. ``But 1 \textit{doesn't} equal 2, obviously, so it's not a proof. Charlotte, since you still appear to be \textit{paying attention}, why don't you tell the class what's wrong with it?

``Step 5, where you divide by $a - b$,'' Charlotte rattled off without looking up.

Charlotte heard two steps as Mr. Bailey turned. ``That's right, he gasped. ``Why is that step wrong, Charlotte?

She looked up and dropped the heavy textbook to the desk. ``I just gave the class a massive hint, and you want me to add the flourish? \textit{Every question so far has been directed to me, appearing to pay attention or not. It's time for a new tactic.} ``This isn't the Mr. Bailey and Charlotte show.

There were titters as some students awkwardly turned in their desks to face her, impressed with her irreverence. Mr. Bailey furrowed his brow.

Charlotte looked over the class. ``What is $a - b$?''

No one answered.

``We're given $a = b$. What if $a$ is 3? What is $a - b$?''

``Zero,'' one boy called out, a little in awe.

``What if $a$ is something else? What is $a - b$?'' Charlotte pressed.

``It's always zero,'' another boy called out.

``Now, what's wrong with step 5?'' Charlotte asked.

An excited girl raised her hand. None of the students Charlotte could see were looking at the teacher. It was too much for Charlotte to answer someone with her hand up. She gestured toward the now very flummoxed Mr. Bailey. The students turned.

Mr. Bailey nodded for the girl to go ahead.

``You can't divide by $a - b$ because $a - b$ is zero, and you can't divide by zero!''

``That's exactly right.'' Mr. Bailey glared at Charlotte. Charlotte was pretty sure he wanted to send her to the principal's office, but she had given him back the class. She figured she had timed it just right.

Book Charlotte Update AU: Geography

``Charlotte. Why don't you tell us a little bit about Nepal?''

``It's most known for Mt. Everest, which it shares with Tibet, China. Tibet is on the north side of Earth's tallest peak, and Nepal is on the south side. On the west, south, and east, Nepal borders India. The capital of Nepal is Kathmandu. Nearly twenty million people live in Nepal, who speak Nepali and English. Nepal is Hindu, by a very large margin, and their major exports are carpets, legumes, and metal sheets. Just last year, King Birendra was faced with a movement against absolute monarchy, and agreed to create a parliamentary monarchy. Am I going too fast for you?''

The teacher was madly flipping through the textbook trying to verify all her statements. The students tittered.

``I don't see anything about a parliamentary democracy in here,'' the teacher muttered.

``I \textit{did} say it was last year. The textbook is three years old. Check the copyright page.''

The teacher flipped to the front of the book, checked it, and stared at her. ``How do you know so much about Nepal?''

``I read about it extensively after I got a ride to the top of Mt. Everest.''

``You're telling everyone you were abducted by aliens. Are you saying \textit{the aliens} gave you a ride to the top?''

``I've just been saying `aliens.' I wasn't abducted. They were very careful to ensure that they got my permission.''

The classroom erupted.

The teacher pierced her with a glare.

Charlotte ignored it.

``Aliens. From outer space. Came down, and asked you if you wanted a lift?''

Charlotte shrugged.

``And you decided to go with them.'' His words were ice.

``I was living on the streets. I was ready to say goodbye to Earth forever. I was angry, and proud, and I'd already burned a few bridges. Yeah, I said yes.''

``You only \textit{say} it was aliens because it stops the conversation.''

``Yep.''

``You don't want people to press any further.''

``Uh huh.''

``Why?!''

``Because the people who \textit{really} picked me up were really nice. They don't deserve the police getting into their business.''

``You're protecting them!''

``Of course.''

``If everything was above board, they wouldn't \textit{need} you to protect them.''

``I suppose that's true.''

``So what part of this whole scenario isn't above board?''

``Hmm \ldots\ that \textit{is} a very good point. Ah! I have it! They're all magicians. Very secretive. They don't want their secret identities to be revealed.''

The bell rang, drowning out the laughter.

Book Charlotte Update:

``And now, the most important thing of all --- we need to stay up all day and all night and watch movies.’’

``Huh?’’

`Your parents will expect you to be exhausted. You can’t fake that. So I’m going to tire you out before I take you back.’’

``That’s \ldots\ remarkably strong reasoning.’’

Book Charlotte Update: After Math

— remember to add writing in all the walls —- no dry erase

``So, why don’t they teach us \textit{this} stuff?’’

``You’d need to know Complex Numbers.’’

``Are those hard?’’

``Not really.’’

``Why don’t they teach it then?’’

``Well \ldots\ Complex Numbers are a bit \ldots\ subversive.’’

``There’s \textit{subversive} math?!’’

``Most ideas were subversive at one point. Consider negative numbers. How can someone have negative three of something?’’

``Maybe I owe three dollars?’’

``Yes. It’s so horrible what we’ve done with them. We let people have less than nothing. But enough of social policy. Complex Numbers. They’re not hard, you just have to keep in the back of your mind that you’re doing something that you were told before that you weren’t allowed to do.’’

``Keep talking.’’

``Three squared is nine. The square root of nine is three. To find a square root, you need to find two identical numbers that multiply together to get the number under the square root sign. If you multiply two positive numbers together, you get a positive number. If you multiply two negative numbers together, you \textit{still} get a positive number. You need a positive number and a negative number if you want to multiply them together to get a negative number. So a negative square root doesn’t make any sense. You need two identical numbers for a square root, so one of them can’t be positive and the other negative. That’s how it was until Geronimo Cardano published a paper in 1545. They’ve been getting less subversive since then, as other mathematicians have been adding to that basic idea.’’

``OK, but how are they useful?’’

Donna grabbed a marker and started writing on the nearest dry—erase board.

\begin{gather} $ax^2 + bx + c = 0
x=\frac{-b\pm\sqrt{b^2-4ac}}{2a} \end{gather}

``Huh?’’

``For the last couple years, you’ve been asked to factor equations by finding numbers that meet certain criteria. Like making a fire by rubbing two sticks together.’’ Donna gestured to what she had just written with her thumb. ``Remember that. It’s your lighter. Put $a$, $b$, and $c$ from the first equation into the second and you’ll have the two roots, letting you factor it. No mucking about with trying a whole bunch of numbers by trial and error.’’

``Why didn’t they teach us this already?!’’

``To make you appreciate it more?’’

``What does this equation have to do with complex numbers? Oh wait. Sometimes you get a negative under that square root sign.’’

``And then you’ve got yourself a Complex Number. Before, you’d say that there were no roots to an equation like that. But now, you can say that the equation has complex roots. The square root of negative one is $i$. We used to call them \textit{Imaginary Numbers}, but they’ve turned out to be so useful that we renamed them \textit{Complex Numbers}. But we still say that the square root of negative one is $i$, and not $c$. That one was already taken. It’s the speed of light.’’

``OK. How do we get from that,’’ Charlotte pointed to the equations, ``to those,’’ Charlotte pointed at the book of fractals.

Donna smiled. ``I’m overjoyed that you asked.’’

Book Charlotte Update: Math I

Charlotte struggled with what she was looking at on the dry—erase board. ``What’s the point? Why does any of this matter?’’

Donna put the marker down and took a moment for thought. ``They teach Math all wrong. They don’t show you the power and beauty of it until university. It’s like doing 12 years of music theory without hearing a single song.’’

``Power? Beauty?’’ Charlotte shot back.

``Let me show you. Follow me.’’

Charlotte followed Donna out of the meeting room and down Main Street towards the dorms. They walked around The Hill, and in a few minutes, Donna let Charlotte into her quarters.

Donna lit a few oil lamps with her gift. The light flickered as the wicks drew oil. Every square foot of wall was a dry—erase board and had equations written on it. Shadows jumped in the guttering light.

``Do you have any idea how creepy your quarters look?’’

Donna looked around. ``Is it really that bad? I think everybody here is used to it.’’

``Creepy. Very creepy.’’

The walls on the other side of Donna’s quarters were barely visible. If it was anyone else’s quarters, Charlotte would’ve thought that they were well beyond crazy.

The oil lamps settled into an even light, and Donna pulled down a textbook from the shelf above her desk.

``Hey, do think this is spiked?''

He gave me a confused look.

``Well, you can ladle your own if you don't trust me.''

``How do you know what alcohol tastes like?''

``Because I'm 21.''

``Sure you are.''

``Well I could pull out my ID \ldots I lied. ``But even if you went somewhere with better light you'd probably think it was fake anyway. I'm Darren's date. Natalie Simms.

His eyes widened slightly. He frowned.

``I see my reputation precedes me. Darren and I have talked for countless hours but tonight is only the second time I've seen him. Our first date. With plenty of chaperones. I didn't come over here to ask you to validate our very long--distance, chaste relationship. I came here to do my due diligence. Ball's in your court.'' I started to turn.

He gestured me forward. He took a sip. ``Shit.''

``That's what I said.''

``That's going to be the hardest part of the evening for me.''

``How do you figure?!''

``Because I'm going to have to convince a bunch of guys not only that I'm your girlfriend, your college age girlfriend, who has stuck with you though a long--distance relationship, but also that they somehow have no shot with me.''

``And you're going to do all that because?''

``Because otherwise they'll think I'm not really your girlfriend. You'll be a laughingstock and have a shitty rest of the year. And it might stick with you. People remember senior prom.''

``I knew it would be a stretch to have you come. I didn't think that far ahead.''

 ``Yep. It's that house. He's in there.''

I got out of the car in exactly what I had been wearing before, right down to the bows and the makeup. I walked up and knocked on the door.

No one answered.

I turned. Mom was leaning down to see me through the passenger window, giving me encouraging nods.

The door opened. It was Darren's Dad. ``Natalie?!''

``You remember me? I was like, 60 yards away.''

``I'll never forget you! How did you find us?!''

I had no idea what to say.

``The girl who has more confidence than half the adults I've met is at a loss for words?''

``I'm used to talking to boys. I'm not used to talking to boys' dads. I don't know how to say it without sounding like an overwrought gift card. I don't know, I followed my heart? Followed the trail of broken dreams? Where's Darren?''

``At school.''

``Oh.''

``What?''

``He's not. You're.''

``You're gonna need to finish a sentence if you want an answer. Sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. I'm working from home today. Darren's mom is at work.''

``Darren let me go. You wanted me back.''

``How the hell do you know that?'' he whispered.

``Women's intuition. That's really beautiful.''

``You were good for him.''

``That's something you say after six months. I was with him for five minutes.''

``Imagine the man he could be if you were with him for a lifetime.''

A broad smile broke across my face. ``That was very forward.''

``So was tracking us down.''

I smirked. ``True. I'm really touched. He let me go but it was you who wanted me back.''

``How old are you?''

My smile dropped. ``I have to be careful when I'm on the road. I much prefer it when I get hit on by boys. Men are a different story.''

``Didn't think boys would be worth your time. How old?''

``You're right. An actual relationship is going to have to wait.''

He arched an eyebrow.

``There's no way you're going to believe me. My mom is magic with makeup. I swear she could work for a movie studio. And I look young for my age to begin with.''

He crossed his arms.

He needed the truth. He'd find out my new identity eventually anyway and I was not going back to high school. ``I'm eighteen. I'm in college.''

He struggled with that for a moment.

``We can be pen pals. Texting and email. Maybe a real relationship later if we can still stand each other.''

``No eighteen--year--old girl would want to look that young.''

``I have to be careful.''

``You'll have to deal with men eventually.''

``I suppose.''

``Suppose? What's the alternative?''

``Women, obviously.''

``Oh. Right. I suppose I'm still old fashioned.''

``I'm still figuring that out. But if Darren has a dad like you, I think I should try.''

``I'm sure he'll be over the moon.''

``Please tell me Darren doesn't look old for his age.''

``Nope. Same boat as you. He's fifteen.''

``Oh! Thank God! So there is a chance in a few years. He deserves to know that the door isn't closed. If I give you my email, will he be too scared to send me a message?''

``I'll give you his, but give me at least a few hours to tell him so he doesn't accidentally delete it.''

I nodded. He gave it to me. I put it in my phone.

``Goodbye Natalie.''

I smirked. ``Goodbye, Darren's dad.''

``It's Greg.''

``Thanks, Greg. I'll send it tomorrow or the next day. Promise.''

He closed the door. I walked back to the car and got in.

``Where's Darren?''

``At school.''

``Oh. Oh!''

``Yeah. Darren's dad, Greg, made a wish. He wants me to marry his son because he thinks I would make him an incredible man. He didn't mean to lock me as a girl for his son. He had no idea. But it's kind of beautiful.''

Mom said nothing.

``Darren's 15. He has a shot. I promised his dad we'd be pen pals first. He gave me Darren's email. It's huge to jump into a relationship with the dad already on your side.''

``I'm proud of you for having the courage to open a door here.''

``Thanks Mom.''

https://www.youtube.com/watch?reload=9&v=toWzxjERiKE

https://www.pcworld.com/article/223787/mailed_credit_card.html

``I came up with something. We need to test the magic to free your personality before making it permanent, so I made you this adorable bow. Anastasia pulled a pink bow edged in white out of her pink heart--shaped purse. It was wider than her hand was long. ``I almost made you a hairband, but I know how you like to have your twin tails come up out of the top of your head.

Annabelle nodded and accepted the bow.

``You need to put it on your head. Push the centre and it will attach. Push again and it will come off.''

Annabelle held it to the back of her head and pushed. Her hands went to her sides, and the bow stayed on. It gave me ideas.

``You couldn't have made a bangle? she grumbled, sighed in relief, and immediately said, ``Sorry ma'am. I don't mean to be ungrateful.

``The spell is on your head. The further it is from your head, the more power is required. You \textit{do} want it to last?''

``Yes.''

``It'll last for at least a moon, whether you wear it or not. Don't keep wearing it after that or the magic may fade when you're in public. Be careful about wearing it in public until you're used to being \ldots{} you. Let me know how it works out. Then we'll see about making some other ones, then making them permanent.''

``So what if I grow up to be 21? If I take it off, or someone grabs it, I'll act like I'm a five--year--old girl?''

``Right now, I'm focused on keeping you sane until people would start to notice your behaviour. One step at a time.''

Annabelle pushed the centre and it came off. ``Why are you being so nice to me? she wondered, then put it straight back on. ``Excuse me, ma'am.

Anastasia laughed. ``I'm not offended. She looked at me. ``I think that spell was your finest work. The detail is incredible. She looked back at Annabelle. ``A few reasons. Celeste told me how quickly you adapted to the spell. When it counts, you're flexible and a quick learner. It seems the will of magic wants you to be a little girl for some reason. Your work speaks for itself. I don't think that it could be overstated that many men in your position would rather die. But most of all, that all adds up to my fervent belief that you will be very powerful one day. I want to help you achieve your potential. Perhaps you will help me one day with something, but I will help you now either way. I could also use a friend. Secret or otherwise. But most importantly, do you know how badly Celeste wants a daughter?''

Annabelle turned, swishing her skirts, looked straight into my eyes for a moment, and turned back around. ``Yes.''

``You're not the only friend I want to make.''

``Ah. Do you know how badly I wanted to be her daughter?''

The most powerful witch of Fitzgaim, possibly the whole region, was caught off guard for a few moments. ``Wanted? Past tense?''

``I \textit{am} her daughter. Annabelle took it off. ``She's my mommy.

I tried to hold back tears as Annabelle spun toward me. She looked into my eyes. ``It's OK to cry.''

``I like you better without that.''

Annabelle turned the bow over in her hands, then turned back to Anastasia. ``Thank you \textit{so} much. It worked. But if I can only wear it with mommy and you, and she doesn't like when I wear it, and I don't see you that often, then maybe I should wait a few moons. Annabelle held out the hairband. ``I'm sorry. I didn't know how much mommy wouldn't like it.

Anastasia picked it up and slowly put it back in her purse, watching Annabelle for a reaction. I didn't see her waver. I was too shocked to cry.

``Are you mad?''

``No, little one. That was a deep sacrifice.''

``I'm not mommy's little girl when I wear it, and I want to be. Maybe in a few moons we can try it again.''

Anastasia nodded and let herself out, correctly noticing that the conversation was about to be over. I was struggling with tears.

``Why didn't you keep it anyway?''

``Because I wanted to show you something. I love you, mommy.''

She had said the words before, but I thought she was just being cute. Now, there was something behind them. In the last moments before I couldn't see, I swept Annabelle into a tight hug.

I knew the exact day when Nicklas fell to the spell.

There was always something in his eyes, like he was a little scared of me. Then one day, it was gone. I put my hands up and he pulled me into a hug. I held on tight. He gave me a cute peck on the cheek and put me down. He smiled at me, and there was nothing but love. I smiled back. I ran off, not sure whether to be happy or sad. Even my words on the page are coming out like the spell. Maybe I should put Anastasia's bow on when I write.

No one expected the adorability curse to affect my body too. By the time I was seven, my hair was the envy of everyone, even some men. Long, strong, thick, full, shiny, and midnight black, perfect for pairing with any shade of pink. Not to mention, amazing for spinning in a circle, or twirling with my hand. There was tons of it. It was easier for boys to pull on it, but threatening to tell my mommy carried a lot of weight.

When I was seven and a half, I worried that my cursed personality was a bit too young. I used Anastasia's hair bow, but people didn't seem to like me as much. Moons passed, and then a few more. People still preferred my cursed personality. When I was eight or so, my cursed personality seemed to grow up a little. I was so happy. I gave in. I let go. The very last part of me became Annabelle.

I didn't know exactly when mommy fell to the spell. It was long and slow, but she fell just the same. It happened before I was nine. I didn't need the hair bow, and I didn't need any secret conversations with Anastasia about it. I kept the bow and wore it often, even though the magic had faded. Mommy forgot. It was better that way.

By the time I was eleven, it was clear that my cursed personality always seemed to lag my physical age. But it never posed a problem. It was who I was. I had always acted a little younger than I looked. It was what people expected. My last few concerns dried up about dispelling or overriding it, and I let the permanent curse ensure my personality stayed consistent.

When my breasts came in, they were adorable too, neither small nor large. Mommy and I quickly figured out that sexiness was not something I could pull off, but my cuteness was enough to hold a boy's attention. I could not be sexy, exactly, but I could be cute and attractive.

When I was fully grown, I was shorter than every other woman in the village. Yet it only served to heighten my cuteness. Mommy was right: even into adulthood, my cuteness remained my only way to get people to do what I needed and wanted, but it was more than enough.

``Annabelle, the adorability spell is the same one as your cursed personality.''

Her eyes went wide, then wider with every word. ``Fiddlesticks. Fudge. Poo. Fiddling poo. As she collapsed in a heap, her voice also fell. ``Oh gosh darn it all to heck.

``Annabelle!''

``Don't blame \textit{me}, \textit{I} didn't know how it was going to come out. That was the point.'' Tears burst out.

I pulled her into my arms. I don't know how long she cried.

``I guess \textit{something} had to go wrong. Will I be cursed to act like a little girl for the rest of my life?''

``I won't let that happen. There's always a way.''

``But will I like it?''

``We won't have to worry about it for years.''

``I'm cursed.''

I pulled her out of the hug and held her right in front of my face. ``Listen to me, Annabelle. There's always a way.''

``Please dress me. I want to see how I feel.''

Over the next few minutes, I got her dressed in her most adorable pink outfit. She spun in a few tight circles, twin tails flying. She spun in a few slow circles, hands up and out.

``How do feel?''

``Happy. Sad. A little bit angry.''

``What do you think of that outfit?''

``It's my favourite. It's pretty. I love it.''

``Any regrets?''

``Not since my daddy left me. She looked me right in the eyes, worry on her face. ``You're going to be my new mommy, right?

My heart melted. ``Of \textit{course}!'' I picked her up and gave her a tight hug.

https://getpocket.com/explore/item/the-three-strength-exercises-everyone-should-do?utm_source=pocket-newtab

https://www.actionforhappiness.org/mindful-march

https://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2019/04/airpods-open-plan-offices/588112/

https://getpocket.com/explore/item/sixteen-and-evangelical?utm_source=pocket-newtab

https://getpocket.com/explore/item/what-really-happens-when-you-donate-your-clothes-and-why-it-s-bad?utm_source=pocket-newtab

Buffer

https://liberationist.org/7-ways-to-promote-psychological-safety-in-the-workplace/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Untranslatability

https://matheducators.stackexchange.com/questions/17864/how-do-i-show-students-the-beauty-of-mathematics

Jeidey walked down the single dirt road through his village. No building was larger than a single room, but some were larger than others. All were made of wood, the one resource they had in abundance, though chimneys were stone. Usually, the little children at play would've boosted his spirits. His dour expression didn't seem to dull theirs. The older children were hard at work moving water and supplies from place to place, or maintaining the buildings. Beyond the buildings were the farms, where the older children, adults, and the few domesticated animals helped with the farming.

He arrived home. He pushed through the door, which was wobbling again. He'd have to check the fit of the door on the pins, one of the few pieces of metal they had. Cook pots and a few tiny but crucial items that made up the harnesses for the animals rounded out all the metal they had.

He knew they didn't have much, but he had never realized how little they had until today.

He took in the smell of his wife's cooking as he carefully closed the door, and hitched it shut. ``That smells so good.''

``Then why do you say so with such anguish?'' she called back, amused, not turning from the kettle over the fire. She wore a dark dress with mottling that wouldn't show splashes.

``Are our children hard at work?''

``Melnit and Jethram, certainly, but who can say about Illiam?''

He walked across the dirt floor to a small toy box, bed rolls and chests holding clothing on his right, the area for preparing food on his left. He sat on the floor and opened the box. Most of the toys were sanded blocks of wood. A few had been carved, given on special occasions.

``Why have you hitched the door?''

Jeidey closed the box and looked up. It was probably just as well that she had interrupted him. His wife was no longer amused. He stood. ``Aerith has fallen.''

He watched her face go through shock and denial before they embraced.

``Who knows?!''

``The courier asked to speak to me in private. Only us.''

``It's only a day's ride away!''

``You don't need to remind me.''

``Sorry, thinking out loud. Exactly like the others?''

``Exactly.''

``We can pool our resources ---''

``Our best weapons and our finest fighters were on their way to Gibron. A day later and they would've arrived. In the wrong town. Our best guess was wrong, we were lucky, and it still wasn't enough. Aerith held all our hopes. Weapons. Armour. Trained men. Now we have nothing.''

``What about blow darts?''

``I've been asking around. No one is willing to make the poison now. Not after what happened to Peibaz and Kildhey.''

``Sell me to a rich merchant. I'm sure I'm worth many men.''

``I hope you're kidding. Our children need their mother.''

``Then there's nothing we can do,'' she replied, brightening.

``You sound happy.''

``Of course. There is nothing we can do to stop the rains from flooding our fields and starving us. There is nothing we can do to stop the blight from rotting our crops. There is nothing we can do to stop the lightning from setting our village ablaze. Do we ruminate over these things?''

``I do. Sometimes.''

``Today, we are alive. We have food. We have logs for the fire. It does no good to think on what you cannot change.''

``It is not as it should be.''

``True, yet that doesn't change the deeper truth.''

``You are stronger than I thought.''

She smiled. ``Have some soup.''

He nodded and followed her.

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Ed Mia

I went beet red and looked over my shoulder, throwing an arm across my breasts and the other hand over my panties. My legs shook.

``Have you been practicing?'' he asked, voice dripping with sexual interest.

I looked at him. My jaw dropped. I was sure my face was filled with shock and horror. \textit{How can you not understand?}

He recoiled a little, his expression softening. ``Tell me the truth Mia, how do you feel?''

Somehow I knew I was bound by white magic. I could speak truth or say nothing. ``Embarrassed and ashamed.'' I looked over my shoulder again.

``Tell me the truth, Mia. Why?''

``I \ldots\ I \ldots\ don't know how to put it into words.''

``Take your time,'' he encouraged. There was a flash of light. I was standing in the room in my kicking around clothes. Ed was gone. The lingerie was back in the box.

He wasn't angry, but he wanted an answer. We had done it before. What happened? \textit{I reacted like Instinct Mia. But why?} I paced a little, trying to work it out.

``At first, I was going with the flow, learning what it was like to be Mia, letting it all just happen. But then I noticed that you didn't give me instincts to love you. So I had to start acting like Mia to add those little touches. I was acting, but it was never a chore. It didn't take long before it was fun. I'm not sure when it happened, but I fell in love with Public Mia's always positive and generous spirit. I loved the way people reacted to me, and it had nothing to do with sexual attraction. Mia's purity, coupled with the libido spell, captivated me in a way that's difficult to describe. You're the only other person who knows that there were a few decisions I made as Ed that I never made peace with. That's not happening any more. And now, I'm not acting any more. My magic mirror is always there to give me a boost so that I never feel like I'm pretending to be upbeat. Power given for the sole purpose of giving it to others is pure white magic, but I don't have to tell you that. Sorry, I forgot who I was talking to. I don't know when it happened, the subtle line between playing Mia and being Mia, but it happened.'' My last words came out with worry, shock, and amazement.

I walked over to the box and was filled with a deluge of conflicting emotions. I started to cry and didn't know why. I sat down on the bed. Sometime later I noticed that he was in the room, by the door. The door was open, suggesting he was a step away from leaving if I wanted him to. He opened his arms. I ran into him, hugging him tight, still crying.

``I can't \ldots\ don't \ldots\ do you \ldots''

``Shh. I thought you might have trouble playing two roles, but I didn't expect it to be because you had stopped playing. We can slow down.''

I hugged him tighter, speaking across his chest. ``Some part of me went along with all of this because I could have some fun, and there was a way back. I thought you'd get tired of being Ed. There's no way back now. And I don't care. And there's a very small part of me that's scared.''

``Ed would never say this, but I'm a little bit scared myself. I think that's healthy. We can be a little bit scared together.''

``It's OK to leave what we were about to do until later?''

``I can be patient.''

I looked in our memories. ``Yeah.''

We didn't say anything for a few moments. I felt something go and heard a squeaky fart. I blushed to the tips of my ears.

``You really are Mia, he breathed. ``I did that.

``\textit{You} made me toot?!''

``It had to be unplanned. Unexpected. Ed would've ignored it, or maybe with the two of us, some perfunctory excuse me. We proved it. You're Mia.''

``Are you at the point where if it happened during a big business meeting you wouldn't react other than to tell everyone in an annoyed tone to keep focused?''

He smirked. ``I guess we'll see.''

We were quiet for a little while.

My jaw dropped and my hand went to my mouth. My other arm was still around him. ``I became the woman you hated!''

``I didn't like \textit{playing} Mia. I felt constrained. I didn't have the options I wanted. That has nothing to do with loving \textit{you}.''

``You love me?''

He smirked.

I hugged him tight.

``I know you've been enjoying going with the flow, but I'm going to have to ask you what you want to do next. You can take some time ---''

I looked up at him, not letting him go. ``I want to show you a cheer.''

His eyebrows inched up.

``I'm sorry for interrupting you,'' I rushed out.

``Good girl, Mia.''

``You told me not to use the simulacrum to do anything that Mia wouldn't. Good advice. I've been practicing cheers. I want to show you.''

``You want to dress up like a cheerleader and show me a cheer?'' The heat of his gaze made my heart beat faster.

``\textit{Like?!}''

He was oblivious, or maybe he was playing.

``You didn't just give me your body, memories, and instincts. You gave me your accomplishments. \textit{I} am Mia. \{I} made head cheerleader my sophomore year. \{I} lead my team to victory in competition after competition. I'm not confused. You did those things, but you gave them to me. I'm Mia. There's no distinction anymore. Now, \textit{I've} done those things. I might've stopped cheerleading, but I never stopped being a cheerleader.''

``You must already have a way of doing it.''

``A gym is too big for a simulacrum. True. You can't watch me from the stands. But we could make it seamless if you weren't physically present. I think it would be hot for you to watch me however you want, invisibly.''

``I could watch you from close or far. I could be inches away from your breasts. I could look up your skirt without you knowing. I'd never be more than a room away. Wouldn't that destroy your concentration?''

``If it does, maybe that will be hot too.''

``If you're in \textit{my} simulacrum, I'd have to shift the gym around as you moved. It wouldn't be seamless.''

``Let's do a meadow in every direction.''

``OK. Do you have anything specific in mind that you want to wear?''

``Keep it PG. For now.''

``My costume. Interesting. Ready?''

``Yeah!''

There was a flash of light. I was standing in a flat meadow that went to infinity in all directions. My uniform was bright yellow with glitter at every hem and a few bands of glitter across the skirt. In high school, the bands of glitter had been white. I pulled my skirt tight around my body and saw comfortable bright yellow shoes with glitter accents and yellow thigh--highs with a small band of glitter at the top.

The air smelled like new growth after a long winter. It was spring here, my favourite season. It was a little cool, a perfect temperature for working up a sweat. There was another scent too. It took me a few moments to realize it was coming from my uniform. I smelled like roses and chocolate. It was subtle. Someone would need to be close to me to smell it. Someone probably was.

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https://www.fastcompany.com/90432143/im-a-time-management-coach-this-is-what-i-advise-about-procrastination?utm_source=pocket-newtab

https://getpocket.com/explore/item/neuroscience-shows-psychopaths-can-use-emotional-intelligence-to-harm-here-s-how-to-protect-yourself?utm_source=pocket-newtab

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fY6WQTG5q_4

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rAbI0fewc7w

Buffer

https://writing.stackexchange.com/questions/48822/is-it-possible-to-write-a-short-story-in-500-words

https://coderwall.com/p/i817wa/one-line-function-to-detect-mobile-devices-with-javascript

Rebecca sat on the bed. David turned the chair to face her. David was about to ask why she had come when she beat him to it.

``I'm going to marry you.''

``Is that a statement of intent, or a proposal?''

``A proposal.''

David's eyebrows shot up. \textit{He's completely gobsmacked. I was expecting a polite, but cold refusal.} ``Why?''

``The only way anyone will truly understand you is to live next to you, forever.''

``I can't fault your logic, and I'm very flattered by your interest, but that's not enough of a reason.''

``I'm \textit{desperately} allured by things I don't understand.''

``Are you \textit{also} drawn to proofs regarding homeomorphic endofunctors over a Hilbert space?''

She giggled. ``Maybe someday I'll get there. I see you all the time. You're \textit{there}. Math is in a book.''

David gaped, the slightest motion of his bottom lip. ``Math. You recognized the words.''

Rebecca smiled. ``Enough of them.''

David turned, looking around his quarters. ``There's no audience.''

``No audience. No secret camera.''

``That's the surest sign that it's not some trick. Tell me again.''

``Puzzles sing their siren song, and I swiftly submit.''

``You don't seem like the submissive type.''

``I have my moments.''

David gestured around. ``Walk around. Tell me what you see. Tell me about the man that lives here.''

Rebecca stood and took a quick look around. She knew where he was going. ``You like everything just so.''

``I am order. You are chaos. I mean no offence.''

``None taken. Opposites attract, but I see your point. You're worried I'm going to mess with your tidy quarters, and your tidy clothes, and your tidy life. So what. All relationships are messy. I can't promise to be just so for you, but I respect you enough not to \textit{deliberately} mess up any part of your life.''

``If you solve me before you die, are you going to want a divorce?''

``If you turn out to be an easy one, I'll be very disappointed. If that happens before kids, that might be best. But I highly doubt that.''

``Interesting. I give you a puzzle. What's your part?''

``What do you want? I've given a lot of men what they wanted.''

``Restraint.''

She frowned and nodded. It was the one thing that was the complete opposite of what she was. Tears started falling before Rebecca could try to stop them. ``That was stupid. I should never have come. I'm stupid.''

``No!''

``I've never heard you raise your voice,'' she whispered, worried. She was so shocked that the tears stopped, but her face was already covered.

He grabbed several tissues from the desk, and walked over to her, carefully cleaning her face as he softly continued, ``You are not stupid. Please don't say that. My answer is \textit{not today}. Do you understand the person you need to be if you want to be my wife?''

He walked the tissues to a waste basket, letting her think, then sat at his desk again.

``Conservative?''

``That's one way to put it. Conservative in dress, in speech. I'm not asking for a preacher's daughter, I'm asking you to wear what most people wear here. To speak the way the others do. If you can do that, you can be my wife.''

``That sounds \ldots\ constricting.''

``That's only in public. In private, there are other things I want. The kind of things I think you were talking about before.''

Her eyes lit up, then she frowned. ``You're agreeing to be my husband to give me a reason to be a better person.''

``Yes. Out of order, I suppose.''

``That's quite a commitment.''

``You're worth it.''

Rebecca was stunned.

``Under that porn--star exterior, now I know that you have a soft spot for Hilbert spaces.''

``Proofs are just another kind of puzzle.''

``Pretty words. Derive the quadratic formula. I want to watch.''

``High--school stuff.''

``True. I'm not going to ask you to do Riemann sums your first time.''

``You're right. I'm totally unprepared for that. I'll have to work up to it. Is proving my Math skills what you really want?''

``Today, I want to see if you're bluffing.'' He pulled a blank sheet of paper from a desk and set it down. He stood, and gestured to the chair.

They switched. Rebecca pulled a pencil out of the holder on the desk. She started with the quadratic equation, started off, but got stuck. She dropped the pencil. ``Damn.''

``It's not a test. Well, actually it \textit{is} a test, but you already passed. I know you're not bluffing.''

``I know I can do it.''

``And now, so do I.''

Rebecca slumped.

``Does being horny improve your focus?''

``Yes.''

``Most people get nervous when other people watch, but I know that you love it.''

``I do.''

``For most people, it would completely blow their concentration to sit in that chair in their underwear while I watch.''

``Is \textit{that} what you want?''

``Would it give you the focus you need?''

``I'll do that for you.'' She stood so fast the chair toppled. Her hands grabbed her top.

``One more thing. When no one is watching, do you strip, or do you undress?''

``I usually undress, unless I'm practising.''

``Stripping is lost on me in much the same way that shaping raw energy into an intricate pattern would be lost on pretty much everyone. It's a silly waste of energy. Do you know what I want?''

``You want me to undress like a good girl. One guy said he wanted that, then I gave him a taste of what he would miss. And then I stripped. I get it. You're going where no man has gone before.''

``That's the kind of man I am.''

Rebecca calmly walked over to the bed, leaving the chair on the floor. She turned toward him briefly, out of habit. She turned toward the bed and slid off her top, letting it fall on the bed. She collected her hair and threw it over her shoulder. \textit{What am I doing? I'm trying to impress David. Oh.} She pulled the tube top into a tight rectangle and lined it up with the edges of the bed. She heard a soft gasp. She stood and faced him in a lacy red bra, a tight red mini, and red wedge heels, but he only had eyes for the black tube top on his bed.

``You grow more interesting by the minute.''

She turned to the bed and bent down to undo the straps on her shoes, then flew up out of them and landed on an invisible platform a foot off the floor. She tugged the bottom hem of her skirt down and pushed them the rest of way off her body. She collected her skirt, picked herself up, and landed in her heels. She set the skirt on the bed, strapped her shoes back on, and arranged the skirt on the bed. She placed the tube top on top of the skirt leaving an even amount of space around it.

She walked toward him in a lacy red bra, matching panties, and red wedge heels, but his gaze was locked on his bed.

``That's how I do it at home while no one's watching. My quarters are dustier than yours, so I don't let my skirt hit the floor. Your floor is cleaner. I meant no disrespect.''

``Thank you.''

She came up to him and looked at the chair on the floor. ``I'm confused. I thought you'd pick it up immediately.''

``Under normal circumstances, I would.''

``You want \textit{me} to do it. You want me to bend down, in my underwear and heels, and pick it up. If you were a client, I'd understand. But I'm confused.''

``The human body is beautiful. The grace, efficiency, and power of muscles. I appreciate motion. Paintings are also beautiful, but they don't move.''

``There was a time when men competed naked in the Olympics.''

``That would've been a beautiful thing to see.''

``If I did an aerobic workout naked, would that do it?''

``It would be like an art history major seeing the Sistine Chapel for the first time. A moment to remember for a lifetime.''

``You think I'd be as pretty as the Sistine Chapel?''

``I'd love to find out.''

``But it wouldn't make you want to make love to me.''

David held up a finger.

Rebecca sat on the bed. David turned the chair to face her. David was about to ask why she had come when she beat him to it.

``I'm going to marry you.''

``Is that a statement of intent, or a proposal?''

``A proposal.''

David's eyebrows shot up. \textit{He's completely gobsmacked. I was expecting a polite, but cold refusal.} ``Why?''

``The only way anyone will truly understand you is to live next to you, forever.''

``I can't fault your logic, and I'm very flattered by your interest, but that's not enough of a reason.''

``I'm \textit{desperately} allured by things I don't understand.''

``Are you \textit{also} drawn to proofs regarding homeomorphic endofunctors over a Hilbert space?''

She giggled. ``Maybe someday I'll get there. I see you all the time. You're \textit{there}. Math is in a book.''

David gaped, the slightest motion of his bottom lip. ``Math. You recognized the words.''

Rebecca smiled. ``Enough of them.''

David turned, looking around his quarters. ``There's no audience.''

``No audience. No secret camera.''

``That's the surest sign that it's not some trick. Tell me again.''

``Puzzles sing their siren song, and I swiftly submit.''

``You don't seem like the submissive type.''

``I have my moments.''

David gestured around. ``Walk around. Tell me what you see. Tell me about the man that lives here.''

Rebecca stood and took a quick look around. She knew where he was going. ``You like everything just so.''

``I am order. You are chaos. I mean no offence.''

``None taken. Opposites attract, but I see your point. You're worried I'm going to mess with your tidy quarters, and your tidy clothes, and your tidy life. So what. All relationships are messy. I can't promise to be just so for you, but I respect you enough not to \textit{deliberately} mess up any part of your life.''

``If you solve me before you die, are you going to want a divorce?''

``If you turn out to be an easy one, I'll be very disappointed. If that happens before kids, that might be best. But I highly doubt that.''

``Interesting. I give you a puzzle. What's your part?''

``What do you want? I've given a lot of men what they wanted.''

``Restraint.''

She frowned and nodded. It was the one thing that was the complete opposite of what she was. Tears started falling before Rebecca could try to stop them. ``That was stupid. I should never have come. I'm stupid.''

``No!''

``I've never heard you raise your voice,'' she whispered, worried. She was so shocked that the tears stopped, but her face was already covered.

He grabbed several tissues from the desk, and walked over to her, carefully cleaning her face as he softly continued, ``You are not stupid. Please don't say that. My answer is \textit{not today}. Do you understand the person you need to be if you want to be my wife?''

He walked the tissues to a waste basket, letting her think, then sat at his desk again.

``Conservative?''

``That's one way to put it. Conservative in dress, in speech. I'm not asking for a preacher's daughter, I'm asking you to wear what most people wear here. To speak the way the others do. If you can do that, you can be my wife.''

``That sounds \ldots\ constricting.''

``That's only in public. In private, there are other things I want. The kind of things I think you were talking about before.''

Her eyes lit up, then she frowned. ``You're agreeing to be my husband to give me a reason to be a better person.''

``Yes. Out of order, I suppose.''

``That's quite a commitment.''

``You're worth it.''

Rebecca was stunned.

``Under that porn--star exterior, now I know that you have a soft spot for Hilbert spaces.''

``Proofs are just another kind of puzzle.''

``Pretty words. Derive the quadratic formula. I want to watch.''

``High--school stuff.''

``True. I'm not going to ask you to do Riemann sums your first time.''

``You're right. I'm totally unprepared for that. I'll have to work up to it. Is proving my Math skills what you really want?''

``Today, I want to see if you're bluffing.'' He pulled a blank sheet of paper from a desk and set it down. He stood, and gestured to the chair.

They switched. Rebecca pulled a pencil out of the holder on the desk. She started with the quadratic equation, started off, but got stuck. She dropped the pencil. ``Damn.''

``It's not a test. Well, actually it \textit{is} a test, but you already passed. I know you're not bluffing.''

``I know I can do it.''

``And now, so do I.''

Rebecca slumped.

``Does being horny improve your focus?''

``Yes.''

``Most people get nervous when other people watch, but I know that you love it.''

``I do.''

``For most people, it would completely blow their concentration to sit in that chair in their underwear while I watch.''

``Is \textit{that} what you want?''

``Would it give you the focus you need?''

``I'll do that for you.'' She stood so fast the chair toppled. Her hands grabbed her top.

``One more thing. When no one is watching, do you strip, or do you undress?''

``I usually undress, unless I'm practising.''

``Stripping is lost on me in much the same way that shaping raw energy into an intricate pattern would be lost on pretty much everyone. It's a silly waste of energy. Do you know what I want?''

``You want me to undress like a good girl. One guy said he wanted that, then I gave him a taste of what he would miss. And then I stripped. I get it. You're going where no man has gone before.''

``That's the kind of man I am.''

Rebecca calmly walked over to the bed, leaving the chair on the floor. She turned toward him briefly, out of habit. She turned toward the bed and slid off her top, letting it fall on the bed. She collected her hair and threw it over her shoulder. \textit{What am I doing? I'm trying to impress David. Oh.} She pulled the tube top into a tight rectangle and lined it up with the edges of the bed. She heard a soft gasp. She stood and faced him in a lacy red bra, a tight red mini, and red wedge heels, but he only had eyes for the black tube top on his bed.

``You grow more interesting by the minute.''

She turned to the bed and bent down to undo the straps on her shoes, then flew up out of them and landed on an invisible platform a foot off the floor. She tugged the bottom hem of her skirt down and pushed them the rest of way off her body. She collected her skirt, picked herself up, and landed in her heels. She set the skirt on the bed, strapped her shoes back on, and arranged the skirt on the bed. She placed the tube top on top of the skirt leaving an even amount of space around it.

She walked toward him in a lacy red bra, matching panties, and red wedge heels, but his gaze was locked on his bed.

``That's how I do it at home while no one's watching. My quarters are dustier than yours, so I don't let my skirt hit the floor. Your floor is cleaner. I meant no disrespect.''

``Thank you.''

She came up to him and looked at the chair on the floor. ``I'm confused. I thought you'd pick it up immediately.''

``Under normal circumstances, I would.''

``You want \textit{me} to do it. You want me to bend down, in my underwear and heels, and pick it up. If you were a client, I'd understand. But I'm confused.''

``The human body is beautiful. The grace, efficiency, and power of muscles. I appreciate motion. Paintings are also beautiful, but they don't move.''

``There was a time when men competed naked in the Olympics.''

``That would've been a beautiful thing to see.''

``If I did an aerobic workout naked, would that do it?''

``It would be like an art history major seeing the Sistine Chapel for the first time. A moment to remember for a lifetime.''

``You think I'd be as pretty as the Sistine Chapel?''

``I'd love to find out.''

``But it wouldn't make you want to make love to me.''

David held up a finger.

``OK, the costume is done. I just need to shrink you down to six inches high.''

``That's \textit{totally} impossible.''

``As usual, technically correct. But.''

Fiona knew her eyes were twinkling. ``But what?''

``There's this hot little moon. Gravity is one twelfth of Earth. High oxygen, higher pressure, tons of carbon for extra--strong organic structures. There's a jungle there. It almost looks like a twelve scale model of one of Earth's jungles, with a few notable differences. It makes a passable enchanted forest. If I take you there, you'll \textit{feel} six inches high. I call it Jurassica.''

Fiona's eyes lit up. ``Is it dangerous?''

``Of course. Ants two feet long. Rats and birds the size of \textit{you}. Dogs the size of \textit{buildings}. Trees so tall they screw with your sense of perspective and go to infinity. Toxins everywhere. But we can fly pretty fast, watch each other's backs, we don't smell very good to them, and the nanites can handle all the toxins.''

``And the leaves?''

``Some of the leaves there are \textit{almost} as long as blue whales, here.''

Fiona looked down. ``Did \textit{these} leaves come from there?''

``\textit{Hell} no. Then part of you would smell tasty. Bad plan.''

``What about ocean life?''

``A couple people have tried exploring the oceans. I heard they got eaten pretty much instantly.''

``Humans?''

``No. Thrill seekers from Gamarink. Bunch of crazy fools if you ask me. Only reason they don't die out is because they reproduce like rabbits. Humanity is \textit{cautious} and \textit{chaste} compared to them.''

``Hey!''

``You're a fairy princess, for the moment anyway. You're not Fiona, human woman, you're Fina, a fairy princess that loves and is sworn to protect the forest. Relax and have fun with it.''

``Oh. Right. Humans.'' Fiona rolled her eyes.

Celestina grinned. ``Perfect. Adorable.''

``Do you get a fairy princess name too? No, wait, never mind.''

Celestina grinned. ``You wanna go right now, I'll get dressed. Won't take long at all.''

``Take me!''

Celestina's eyes twinkled. ``Maybe when you're older. Today, you can watch me change. And then we'll go to Jurrasica.''

Fiona blushed, clamped her hands over her mouth, and her eyes went wide.

Before Fiona could react, Celestina slipped something out of a hidden pocket, held it up, and put it away. She slid something else out of another pocket and fiddled with it for a few seconds. When she was done, it looked like she was holding a picture frame. She continued fiddling with it for several more seconds, then walked over to Fiona and handed it to her.

``I wished you could see the look on your face, and by the power of technology, I made my wish come true.''

In the picture frame was Fiona, in all her woodland fairy princess glory, with worried eyes, an adorable blush, and her hands covering her mouth. The background was artfully blurry, with different sized spots of white light. Fiona stared at the costume in the picture and couldn't believe it.

``Payment is rendered. I'll keep it to myself unless you want to share.''

Fiona's jaw dropped. ``You're like a cuteness succubus, making people cute and then feeding off their cuteness.''

Celestina tapped a finger to her chin. ``I find myself unable to deny your line of reasoning.''

``This looks like a magazine cover. You took this in \textit{seconds} with bad lighting.''

``I used a light--field camera. An early version of the tech exists on Earth already. Then I did a few quick touch ups courtesy of a little alien software package I like.''

``Does it translate to \textit{instant glitter}?''

``Yeah, that's a decent translation.''

``\textit{You are scary.} Are you in charge because of blackmail material?''

Celestina giggled. ``No. The blackmail material is \textit{entirely} incidental.''

Fiona looked at the device again. ``There's no way I look this good.''

Celestina walked over to the full--size mirror, turned it around, and wheeled it over. It was twice her height.

``It's human sized. I guess you help a lot of humans with their look.''

``Yep.''

The mirror was in place. Fiona stared at herself. She moved around a little, still not believing it. She held up the picture frame like device and compared it to the mirror. The picture frame was clearly retouched, but not by much.

``You must be able to print this?''

``Absolutely.''

``I want it, but I don't want anybody to find it.''

``Offer's always open. Now, for the rest of my part.'' Celestina walked over to the table and started emptying her pockets. Out came a compact, a lace handkerchief, the camera device she had used, and various other shiny devices in black, white, and pink that Fiona could only guess at.

``How many pockets do you have?!''

``In \textit{this} dress? Eight. I never liked purses, and the lace conceals the pockets \textit{perfectly}. Three main trading planets and three standards for everything is a pain. I like to be ready for anything.''

``You \textit{demolished} a \textit{solar system}.''

``Yeah, we asked the Holorans to find a solar system that was so boring that it was remarkable, where nothing would ever happen, a few anti--coreward of Kalivar.''

``A few \textit{universes} anti--coreward?''

``Yeah, obviously. It's not like we count anything else coreward and anti--coreward. Anyway, The Computer had already come up with a plan to solve the resource crisis. It involved making a rocket to blast off and take a few assemblers to one of their moons, using a little bit of the moon for energy and raw materials to make more assemblers, then launching missions from there to capture asteroids, turn the matter into energy, and beam it down to the planet. The rocket would've taken a lot of resources. They didn't have a rocket silo or any of the needed technologies still built and functional. They'd given up on space thousands of cycles ago as their budget started getting tight. The people would've had to make additional sacrifices. That plan died. But it gave us an idea. We could take Kalivarian assemblers to Dullsville.''

``The most boring solar system in known space.''

``Exactly.''

``And take it apart, and turn it into?''

``A Dyson swarm.''

``You needed extra computing power, so you built a Dyson swarm!''

``The Computer built it. We just handled the initial shipping.''

``To engineer living costumes \ldots''

``That was only the first application. Turns out there's a lot of use for a secret computing cluster the size of a solar system.''

Book III: The twin boys left the house. Their ears marked them immediately as Charlotte's. They had white hair that matched their ears. It tickled their shoulders, which Fiona quite liked. They were both wearing white tank tops and blue jeans, and both of them had their tail curled slightly around one leg. \textit{Like the twin sons of Bastet and Adonis. Wait \ldots\ am I mixing my mythologies? Whatever.} Charlotte's boys walked languidly in her direction. At five--eight, Fiona considered herself tall for a woman, but these boys must have been nearly seven feet tall.

As they came up to Fiona and David, the boys shifted their stance slightly and stretched their muscles. At first, Fiona thought that it was incidental or innocent, but she quickly realized that it was intentional. They were playing with her. She also realized that she wanted to be played with. They were wearing the most common clothes Fiona could imagine, but the boys made those clothes look good. She preferred wearing those kinds of clothes herself. As Fiona let her gaze wander over their lean ---

Fiona was distracted by some sort of scintillating light, and turned to see a very tall cat girl wearing a blue ankle--length princess dress with plenty of glitter. She was also wearing a thin choker covered in what looked like diamonds, but they couldn't be. Fiona didn't see a tail.

Felicia's bodice had plenty of lace in every colour from blue to white. More not--diamonds encircled her waist, making a \textit{V} in front of her. Her hair was every colour from blue to white, but it looked real, and not bleached. It cascaded to her shoulders. Fiona pulled her gaze away from Felicia's hair with difficulty.

``Why are you dressed like a princess?'' Fiona asked.

``People have told me I've acted like a princess my whole life. Seems fitting.''

``You dress like that \textit{all the time}?!''

Felicia nodded, as if confirming that it was windy today. ``I dress \textit{like} this, but this one's my favourite. This one has the most diamonds.'' She spun with an animal's grace, swishing her skirts and lighting up the glitter and gems on her outfit.

Fiona saw Felicia's tail as she spun and she could almost hear the bar chimes. It took her breath away. She had to gasp to talk. ``Did you say diamonds?''

``Yeah, Felicia downplayed. ``We make them here.

``You \textit{what}?!''

``Talk to Celestina. Or John.''

Fiona resolved to do that at the first opportunity. Charlotte and Derek came up to stand next to their children. Fiona looked at all of them.

``You're pretty cute for a human,'' Fiona thought aloud, looking toward Derek.

``Uh \ldots\ thanks?'' Derek replied.

Charlotte let a short non--human growl escape her lips.

Fiona clamped her hands over her mouth and looked over the family again. \textit{I am feeling sooo bi right now.}

``See, it's not just me,'' a woman's voice said.

Fiona looked around. No one was owning up to the comment. ``I said that \textit{out loud}?!''

The boys nodded, amused.

Felicia nodded, curious.

Derek smirked, casting a sidelong glance toward Charlotte. ``You know, it's kind of a compliment.''

Charlotte hissed. ``Derek's mine.''

Fiona noticed that Charlotte said nothing about anyone else. Fiona needed to get off this topic. \textit{Fast.}

``I'm a little surprised you don't show your tail,'' Fiona commented to Felicia.

The tip of Felicia's white tail peeked out from behind her skirts, waved, then darted back behind them.

\textit{So. Adorable. New topic. New topic!} ``You make \textit{diamonds} here?'' \textit{Oh wait, I already asked that.}

Everyone nodded, not seeming to mind that she'd brought it up again.

``\textit{How}?!''

``For the details, you'll have to talk with Celestina or John,'' Charlotte replied.

``Do you have other jewellery?'' Fiona asked Felicia.

They all nodded.

Felicia commented, ``I have a few ruby and diamond circlets. I don't like tiaras. My ears get tangled in them.''

\textit{She's a princess all right.} ``Are there \textit{real} princesses here?''

``Not since Celestina became queen,'' Charlotte supplied.

``Of \textit{this place}?!''

Charlotte giggled. ``She \textit{is} the closest thing we have to a leader here, but I don't know if too many would recognize her as their queen. No, she rules over a continent on her home planet. Goes back now and then to make sure everything is going smoothly.''

``How'd she become queen?''

``The usual way. Her father died.''

Fiona cringed. ``Oh, I walked right into that. Sorry.''

Charlotte nodded soberly.

``What was he like, the king?''

``Just, wise, and fair. He risked his life to free the people from tyrants. I knew him. He was a legend.''

``I'm sorry,'' Fiona repeated, but her sentiment was different this time.

``Thanks.''

Fiona turned back to Felicia. ``I can't believe you dress like that every day.''

Felicia simply shrugged.

\textit{There's that princess vibe again.} ``How long does it take you to get ready in the morning?''

``Oh, I just threw on the dress and did the bow up on the back to cinch the waist. Doesn't take any time to put it on at all. Or take it off,'' she finished nonchalantly.

Charlotte gave her daughter a quick sideways glare that Felicia probably didn't even see.

Fiona only got one word out. ``Bow?''

Felicia turned, swishing her skirts. There was a bow on the back of her dress that Fiona had missed before, because it was the same colour as the dress. Her white tail sprouted out of the bow. Entirely without looking, Felicia pulled the bow out, then tied it back together with practiced ease. The bow looked as perfect as if it had just come off an assembly line. Then she turned back toward Fiona.

``I see you have experience,'' Fiona praised.

Felicia nodded. ``Almost a hundred and fifty years.''

``You've been dressing like that for \textit{a hundred and fifty years}?!''

``The diamonds are new. When I was young I wore glass beads.''

\textit{I have nothing to say to that. Moving on.} ``I love your hair, Fiona gushed. ``How do you colour it?

``I don't. It comes out like that. Gene therapy.''

\textit{So nonchalant.} ``How?!''

``I asked The Computer.''

\textit{She just} asked. \textit{She just goes to another planet and asks the AI to do gene therapy on her to give her hair that looks like a waterfall. And the AI does it, just like that. And it's} gorgeous. \textit{It's like she has} no idea \textit{how mind--blowing that is.}

Felicia tossed it, and the individual strands shifted. Her hair looked like a waterfall in motion. Fiona stared, mouth agape.

Someone coughed. Fiona had to give her head a shake to snap out of it. ``What about makeup?'' she rushed out, trying to prove that she was back in the present, and not trying to imagine what it would be like in the future, to put her hands through that magnificent ---

``I use a special soap with two kinds of titanium dioxide. Different sized particles. It's sunscreen, deodorant, and it evens out my skin tone. Also makes it a bit lighter.''

``\textit{No makeup}?! You seriously just roll out of bed, toss on a princess dress, and walk out the door,'' Fiona pressed. It didn't have the tone of a question.

``I brushed my hair,'' Felicia countered, a bit testily.

``Brushed. \ldots\ Hair.'' Fiona cackled, a little crazily. \textit{I really can't wait to put my fingers through it.}

\namedvignette{Laurel's Quarters, Three Hours Later} Laurel was sitting in a chair at his table. He looked up from his book when he heard the knock. ``Yep!''

He saw and smelled Felicia come in. She was wearing a yellow princess dress with almost no lace. A thin yellow velvet choker completed the outfit. Her skirts fell almost straight down, and easily came through the door. It was one of her simpler outfits, the equivalent of jeans.

``Well it certainly smells like \textit{you} had a good time, Laurel remarked, amused. ``You showered after. Took your time.

``You \textit{always} know. \textit{How}?''

``All right, I guess I can tell you my secret. It's been long enough, and I've had my fun. You must've gone back to your quarters after. Picked up her scent while you picked up the laundry. Picked up \textit{all} of her scents.'' He sniffed at the air and grinned.

Felicia closed the door behind her. She sat down on the edge of the bed, flicking her tail to the side. ``Huh. I'll keep that in mind for next time. Yes. We \textit{did} have a good time. She's a quick learner. Better than most.''

``Had she been with a woman before?''

``No, but that's OK. It wasn't my first time with a woman who'd never been with a woman.''

The first time Laurel had heard her say that, it took him a second to work through it. Now, it was a catch phrase.

``So there I was, on top of her, my hair cascading all around her face, and she was playing with it like a kitten. Utterly fascinated. I casually mentioned that I was thinking about changing it.''

\textit{She'd never change her hair. Not in a million years.} ``Devious.''

``After that, she was putty in my hands.''

He smiled.

``She even did that thing with the milk,'' Felicia boasted.

Laurel's jaw dropped. ``Her \textit{first time}?!''

Felicia turned her head in his direction and nodded with a Cheshire grin. ``She needed a little extra. I wore the white leather collar for encouragement. The big one.''

``I know the one. That one has a golden bell. Kinky! White and gold are \textit{definitely} your colours. Hmm, I'll need to move up my plans for her.''

She snorted. ``You've \textit{never} planned \textit{anything} in your \textit{life}!''

``Oh, sister dear, you know me too well. So where ya gonna go from \textit{there}?''

``I'm going to have to give it some thought.'' She turned her head back to face forward. Felicia lazily flicked her tail back and forth on the bed as she tapped a finger to her chin.

Laurel remembered just how many hearts she could melt with that simple pair of gestures, especially when she was younger.

Her eyes twinkled and she bit her lip a bit like she was having dirty thoughts.

Laurel remembered how many times pheromones had launched into the air with that pair of gestures.

Felicia paused with her finger on her chin and turned back to him. ``You have to try a leather collar some time.'' She let her finger drop, but her tail kept flicking back and forth.

``It ---''

``Rubs against your Adam's apple, I know. You should get a collar that's hollowed out on the inside or something. Get it fitted. Whatever. It makes them ---''

``Beg like children. Yeah, you've told me. I have my ways.'' He smiled.

Her tail stopped. ``I wonder what it's like to date someone.''

Laurel gave her a confused expression.

``Everybody seems to be so freaked out about the multiverse finding out about us. We're stuck here unless somebody takes us somewhere. It's a cage nicer than any other that anyone has let us see, but it's still a cage. Or maybe an ivory tower. People come and go, and we stay. We have people who call on us, but we don't date. Not really.''

Laurel nodded. ``The books say that's what it used to be like for high--class women in the 20s and before.''

``Does that bother you?''

``\textit{Hell} no. Did you mention these feelings to Mom or Dad?''

``No. Why? I already know what they're going to say.''

``You lose nothing by asking. Maybe they'll surprise you.''

``Surprise me with what? They're just going to magically come up with someone who chooses to spend most of their time here? Just to date \textit{me}? Just based on people's reaction to me, sure, I'm amazing, but am I \textit{that} amazing? And what will we do? There's exactly three things to go out and do here. Board games in a meeting room, eating in the mess hall, and the few sports we have here.''

``There's skydiving,'' Laurel tried, forgetting for a moment that it was a bad idea.

``You know how my tail---''

``Yeah, yeah. Sorry. So stay in. Watch movies.''

Felicia nodded, lost in thought.

``Why bother dating, anyway? It's just a lead up to sex, which is easy enough to come by already.''

``Well that's a rather \textit{male} perspective \ldots Felicia snarked. ``What about the \textit{romance}?

``What \textit{about} the romance? I don't feel anything missing.''

Felicia grabbed the pillow from his bed and threw it at him.

He caught it easily and put it behind his back, making the chair more comfortable.

Felicia let a non--human growl out, then she relaxed until she was only annoyed. ``Mom's too close to this. I'm going to talk to Celestina.''

Laurel nodded. ``Good idea. Still don't think you're missing anything. Enjoy the simplicity of it.''

Felicia gave him one last annoyed glance and left, letting herself out.

``You might want to close your eyes for this next part.''

``\textit{Hell} no.''

``Alright.''

Everything spun. The planet showed most of the phases of the moon in seconds. Fiona knew that they were flipping around to the day side of the planet, but she had no reference for that. Fiona immediately concluded that what they had done had nothing to do with phases.

She spared a glance at David. He was unreadable as always. The direction arrow had a bright white tip. They plunged down toward the planet, but Fiona wasn't scared. The unnatural lack of the rush of air, gravity, and sound made it clear to Fiona that she was perfectly safe, as unaffected by everything as David seemed to be.

They dropped through the clouds, and David made a course correction, flying over the land fast and low like a fighter jet.

All she saw was hills until the last moment. There were twelve stone structures with red clay roofing tiles the size of high--school portables, six on each side of a road made of homemade patio stones on gravel. Several bright--white long thin structures were around the larger ones. Long mounds of Earth hemmed the buildings in, too straight to be artificial. A hill was past the buildings, down the road. There wasn't a soul to be seen.

``What's that?'' Fiona pointed almost straight down to a patch of some kind of weeds, half as big as a classroom. The tall yellow weeds contrasted with the short bluish--green grass everywhere else.

``That's the Landing Field. For practicing landings. We won't need it.''

``I could use a sense of direction.''

``The buildings and hill are North of the Landing Field.''

Fiona looked South of the Landing Field, found a large lake, and pointed.

``Do people swim there?''

``Some people do, on special occasions. Too much ammonia.''

``Can't you treat it?''

``We do. More seeps in.''

``Bummer.''

Fiona turned North and looked over the hills and buildings again. ``If I made a diagram, it would look like a spaceship.''

David quirked an eyebrow.

Fiona pointed to the long mounds of earth. ``Those are the nacelles. The buildings in the middle are the living and working spaces. The hill is the command decks and bridge.''

``And the Landing Field and lake?''

``They don't fit. Fine, so it's not a \textit{perfect} analogy.''

``Most people notice the spaceship as soon as they see a diagram. Not everyone notices having only seen the real thing. Put your arms out so I can can catch you after we phase in.''

``I can handle my own landing.''

``Phasing in and suddenly falling to the ground will put you off your game. Happens to everyone. You can do a lot of damage to yourself if you miss. Allow me.''

Fiona raised her arms. They floated down to the road, in front of the landing field.

Multiple things happened in quick succession. Suddenly, Fiona was falling. The sound of the wind was back. She felt someone very tall grab her under the armpits and set her down. David landed beside her.

``There's no one here!''

``You were the one that wanted to go immediately.''

``I didn't think it would be \textit{dead}.''

``There might be a few people in the mess hall. Everyone else will be in their quarters. Somebody might be dusting one of the buildings. I'll send out a burst.''

``Huh?''

David dug in his messenger bag and pulled out a Book. He flipped through it, then put it back into his bag.

``Huh? Oh yeah! It needs to charge up.''

Nothing happened.

Fiona quirked an eyebrow.

David remained impassive.

There was a burst of power. ``They may be a pain in the ass when we're watching and waiting until a potential completes Lesson 8, but they're really handy to get people's attention here. Too handy, actually. We had to set limits on their use.''

``Are \textit{all} asexuals as impassive as you?''

``I've never met anyone like me.''

Before Fiona could ask him what he meant, two girls were skimming the ground toward them. It took Fiona a moment to realize that the way they were moving suggested they were traveling on invisible platforms. \textit{Wicked!} As they got closer, Fiona realized that they were women in girls' clothing. One was wearing cat ears and an ankle--length ballet outfit. The other was in a very frilly white dress. The ballerina was very tall and white with long white hair, and the other woman was very short and dark brown, with long midnight--black hair.

``People cosplay here?''

``Sometimes. But she's not cosplaying. That's Charlotte. The other woman is Celestina.''

Fiona turned to David to see if he was kidding, but he was a sphinx as usual. By the time Fiona looked back to the two women, they were stepping down from their invisible platforms. Fiona could now see that Charlotte was also wearing a tail. Charlotte's dress shifted from deep blue at her waist to transparent at her ankles.

Fiona turned to the tall one. ``Do you \textit{always} meet new people wearing a ballet outfit and cat ears?''

``You're the first new person I've met since I got my new ears and started wearing romantic tutus, so \ldots\ I'd say that's a yes.''

``You wear that \textit{all the time}.''

David nodded impassively. Celestina grinned and nodded.

Charlotte picked up a large sheaf of her long white hair. There was no ear underneath. Charlotte's cat ears flicked, a perfectly natural motion, not like something robotically controlled. She turned to the side, and her tail swayed, again a natural motion.

Fiona started babbling. ``Charlotte. David said you're from Ontario, Canada, Earth. You're human.''

``I was.''

``You're a cat girl. A \textit{real} cat girl.''

Charlotte let her tail drop and turned back to Fiona. ``Yes.''

Fiona whirled on David. ``You didn't mention that.''

``No, I didn't.''

``That seems kind of important!''

``You wouldn't have believed me. Some things you have to see for yourself.''

Fiona turned back to Charlotte. ``\textit{How?!}''

``It was an accident.''

``How does someone \textit{accidentally turn into a cat girl?!}''

``Long story.''

``Shorten it!''

Charlotte looked at the others. ``Let's get some food.''

https://getpocket.com/explore/item/every-interview-question-is-really-this-question?utm_source=pocket-newtab https://www.cnbc.com/2019/09/05/a-simple-guide-to-becoming-more-productivity-that-millions-swear-by.html?utm_source=pocket-newtab

Buffer

I have made copious notes. I'm not expecting a point-by-point response. I'm providing these to you more as a demonstration that I have carefully considered what you've sent. There's no need to read the following notes before reading the new document. It may be helpful instead to refer to these at any point where you feel I've missed one of your comments.

I know from my recent writing courses that the tide has turned for "said", and it's in fashion again. It still feels wrong to me to use said, but I'll have to adapt. Of all your comments, cleaning up the dialogue tags required the most work by far.

I'll start with some of the larger changes that I've done, based on your comments. These jump around quite a bit, but should be more or less in order, based on the book.

I've included a few details about what the Raojavi Books teach. These are referenced in Michael's fight later in the book, when he only expects the warlord to know what's taught by the Books.

I've improved the beginning of Chapter 3 to make it clearer that it's E'il'nahad's point of view.

You're right: I buried the lead on the biggest reason why the A'al'wei didn't make contact with the people of Kalivar. When I first wrote it, I thought E'il'nahad would be embarrassed at not having made contact, leading to defensiveness. That only made sense in the old continuity, when the A'al'wei didn't have strong reasons. These new reasons for not making contact are quite valid. I cleaned it up, and I much prefer the new version.

It's true that the humans suggest far too much to E'il'nahad, who should be the one proposing the ideas. I've fixed that.

Here are some other notes, which should also be in order of appearance in the book.

My fellow classmates are well on their way to a degree in the exciting new field of Staring out the Window.

I see you've suggested de-capitalizing Staring. It's supposed to be a joke. It's a field, like Mathematics, or Geography.

The obvious word for "alien anthropologist" is "xenopologist", but I felt that having one of the characters break in and define the term would break the narrative flow here. The point of this paragraph is to establish that E'il'nahad undergoes medical treatment only available to a select few to prolong his life. Also, I think it's humorous the way it is. Another option might be to define "xenopologist" earlier so that I can use it in this spot without breaking the flow.

I've removed a lot of footnotes. The term "trellig" didn't have a footnote in the previous version, and you suggested I add one. It still seems like I would need to define it again when E'il'nahad talks to Michael about training the Kalivarians, so I've left it as is, with no footnote. Moving on, I wanted to have Herican's age in Earth years when I introduce him to help the reader visualize him, so I resolved that by removing the repetition later.

In Chapter 6, you left a comment that the paragraph explaining why no other race has made a Travelling rig raised more questions than it answered. If multiple races came up with a safe way to Travel, it wouldn't be long until everyone was using one, and Travel would be safe. I think I need to give a reason why only one race has them. I rewrote it a bit, and it's now in Chapter 5. If you still think it raises more questions than it answers, what are the biggest questions raised?

Although scuba is an acronym, the lowercase form is used considerably more at present. PADI's Open Water Diver Manual (Copyright 1999-2007) uses the lowercase form exclusively. Although the uppercase form had an initial lead, the lowercase form has been preferred since 1958, according to Google NGram Viewer.

At the end of one scene in "Always Yours", I wrote, "Somewhere, at that very moment, on Earth, A'al'wei Prime, Aribonn, and Veloden, a sun was setting. Somewhere on Earth, A'al'wei Prime, Aribonn, and Veloden, the same sun was rising." These sentences are a book end that complete the storyline that didn't finish in "False Sunset". These sentences establish this moment in the story as a significant ending and hint at a significant beginning. As far as the physics is concerned, no matter what time it is, somewhere in the world is having a sunrise, and somewhere in the world is having a sunset. There are many positive poetic conclusions: you can always start again; you don't have to wait for a new day to start fresh; tomorrow is another day; beginnings need endings, and endings need beginnings; and renewal is continuous.

"It's a new dawn, it's a new day" -- Nina Simone

Book I:

``Kalivar has a \textit{massive} creativity problem. They are one people, with one culture, speaking one language. The children are almost exclusively taught by an AI. This AI was deliberately designed to be uncreative, so that it could be controlled. They can solve today's problems. They can't solve tomorrow's problems. I wish we could give them a massive influx of new ideas, but we must be careful of unintended consequences.''

https://www.tor.com/2013/01/07/the-rithmatist-excerpt/

https://brandonsanderson.com/books/#book the stormlight archive is the one I was talking about and "the way of kings" is the first book

The name of the wind, Patrick rothfuss

Buffer

``Talk to her. But \textit{don't} scare her off. She said she'd go to one of our competitors. We can't let that happen. She said she was the only one of her kind, and I believe it. She can do things I've never seen, like she's taking a stroll, and I doubt we've scratched the surface.''

Lori crossed her arms. ``She's not really a \ldots''

Cassie shrugged, arms wide. ``I don't care \textit{what} she is, or where she came from. I'll work with her. If she's reliable and doesn't get stage fright, she'll headline. I suggest we keep her under wraps until her first show. Talk about making a splash. If everything goes right, our biggest problem is going to be corporate espionage.''

Lori nodded, then frowned.

``Don't worry. I'll vet her. She asked for a cut of each show, which means we don't have to pay her until we put her on.''

``Could it be a trick?''

Cassie and Ryan nodded emphatically. Cassie grinned. ``It's obviously some kind of trick, but who cares? As long as she can keep it up, that's less we have to pay for special effects.''

Lori noticed that they were completely dry. ``I guess you haven't been in there with her?''

They shook their heads no.

``Should've brought a bathing suit.''

Cassie smirked. ``Ellen's your size. Head to the costume department and pick out a few things. The racks are labelled. I'm sure she won't mind.''

Lori nodded and looked down. ``I'll drop my briefcase at my desk first. Would you tell her I'm coming? She'll think I'm a performer.''

``No problem.''

Lori left Cassie and Ryan at the security desk. Lori walked through the corridors to her office, using the extra time to think. \textit{They were both enchanted by our new arrival. But she broke in. That's troubling, and neither of them seemed bothered by it. I want to get up close and try to figure her out.}

Her thoughts swirled around these same points as she dropped her briefcase in her office, locked the door as she left, and headed to the costume department.

It wasn't hard to find Ellen's rack. The suits that didn't have too much glitter were covered in frills. The suits that had a small amount of frill and glitter were tiny. Lori considered herself to be a good looking 50--something, but none of these would do. She remembered Cassie's smirk, and it all fell into place. \textit{I have to hand it to them. They had me all the way up to this moment. But I'm not putting one of these on.}

Lori grabbed the costume that provided the most coverage: a navy--blue one piece that was covered in glitter but didn't have any frills. As she looked closer, the breasts and groin had the most glitter, with more lines of it going in every direction. She tossed it over her shoulder and marched to the main theatre. Lori made it to one set of doors and considered throwing them open dramatically, but thought better of it. She entered. Shannon was jumping through hoops. Shannon was jumping through hoops \textit{only dolphins could jump through}. I asked Ryan to set them up as high as we go. The mermaid went for the highest hoop, saw her on the way up, and waved, as if it was nothing. Cassie looked back and waved. Shannon dove into the water with virtually no splash. Lori carefully retrieved the costume from her shoulder and held it in front of her. \textit{It's not so bad.}

Lori rushed to the change room, thankful that the performers worked nights, so the change room was empty. If Ellen had been there, the resulting stories would've been immortal. She tossed off her clothes and took the costume to the shower. She tried to be thorough, not wanting to leave anything of hers on the costume, but she was fast. She carefully put the costume on. It was a little tight, but it was a little tight everywhere. It fit like a glove. \textit{Cassie knows her staff.}

Lori walked through and around the smaller tanks out to Tank A. She walked to the edge. Cassie was on the far side of the tank. She waved.

Ryan was at the security desk, the only security guard working the night shift, bored out of his mind. The sun had risen, and he was about to end his shift. He caught something out of the corner of his eye. He looked over to the bank of monitors, checking each one in turn. A few moments later, he saw a woman in a mermaid costume swimming underneath the surface of the water in the main tank.

\textit{Only in Vegas.} He stood, dropped a Back in Ten Minutes sign on the desk, and walked quickly through the empty corridors to the main tank.

He walked through the last set of doors into Theatre A, which surrounded Tank A. The tank was 150 feet long, 100 feet wide, and 25 feet deep. He walked down the ramp, passing row after row of chairs, watching her move. Her tail moved fluidly, not like she had legs underneath. Halfway down the ramp he realized that he had not seen her break the surface of the water. \textit{How long has it been? No, can't be.} As he watched her move, he slowed his pace. He wouldn't realize that he was slowing down until he watched the tape later.

There was something about her motion, quick movements interspersed with slow ones. \textit{She's swimming like a fish in every way.}

He made it to the edge of the tank, three feet tall and three feet wide. ``Hey, what are you doing in the tank!''

She wasn't facing him, and showed no sign that she had heard him.

He was about to call out again when she turned and then swam straight for him. She was fast. If he couldn't convince her to get out of the tank, he'd have to call in a team.

Her head popped above the water. She put her arms on the edge. He looked into her eyes and couldn't remember what he was supposed to say.

``Hi!''

He stood, dumb.

``I'd like to talk to the person in charge of hiring entertainers.''

In his consciousness, her words competed with her face, and the words lost.

``Nod or shake your head. Is the person in charge of hiring entertainers a man?''

He shook his head.

``Is she here yet?''

He shook his head.

``Tell her to see me when she gets in.'' She pushed off from the edge, and a moment later, she dove.

Ryan stared as she continued to swim in the same halting fish--like motion as before. \textit{What just happened?}

She still didn't come up for air.

He stood, still staring at her. He nearly called out to her a few times, but the words died in his throat. \textit{There's nothing else I can do here. I hope Cassie gets in soon. I'd better get back to the security desk.}

He returned through the corridors back to the security desk in a daze. He was about to pull the tape, when he realized something. \textit{It'll take a few seconds to eject the tape, a few seconds to put another one in, and a few more to start recording. What if she happens to surface during that time? What if someone argues that she picked that moment to surface? I can't pull the tape yet. What's the world record for swimming underwater?}

He continued to stare at the monitor. He still hadn't seen her surface. He heard someone come in. He looked up to see Cassie. He was never happier than to see her braided red hair and bright blue eyes.

``Ms. Pretz! Thank God you're here, you need to see this.'' He pointed.

She frowned and walked around the desk to take a look.

``She showed up, maybe 10 minutes ago, and asked for the person in charge of hiring entertainers. I've watched her swim underwater on the monitors for \ldots\ eight minutes. How long ---''

``That's impossible. Are you recording?''

``Always. I wanted to pull the tape to figure out how she got in, but we would've had a gap in the recording.''

``Good instincts. We can always pull it later. She \ldots\ showed up?''

``I didn't see her come in. She was there before I noticed.''

``She asked to talk to me?''

``Yeah. She didn't say anything else. Not even her name. Go talk to her before somebody else shows up.''

Cassie didn't wait to drop her bag off in her office. She went straight to the main theatre, watching the woman swim underwater from the moment Cassie walked through the doors to the moment she reached the edge of the tank.

The mysterious woman swam to the bottom of the tank, and swam fast to the surface. She breached the water, still gaining altitude, and waved as if she was simply having fun, and not like she had broken a few world records. She dove, leaving a tiny splash that would be the envy of an Olympic diver. She swam to the edge of the tank. Her head popped above the water. ``Hey. I'm Shannon.''

\textit{God, she's beautiful.}

``Are you in charge of hiring entertainers?''

\textit{Is it a prank? Could she be an actual mermaid? Where did she come from? How can she stay underwater so long? How can anyone be that pretty?}

The mermaid repeated her question while moving further away, and it was as if a spell had been broken.

``I'm Cassie Pretz. Yes, I'm the woman you want.'' Shannon's name made it through Cassie's mind.

Shannon swam back toward the edge, and Cassie was taken with the sight of her again. ``What drives me is seeing the look in someone's eyes when they think I might be a real mermaid. I want to work for you, but it's not about the money for me. Fifteen percent of gross, of the shows with me in them. There's only one of me in the world. You don't want me working for your competitors, do you?''

Cassie shook her head.

``Of \textit{course} you don't. What I showed you already is only a taste. Bring me a contract and I'll show you and the choreographer what I can \textit{really} do. While I'm waiting, could I try jumping through your hoops?''

Cassie looked up. All the hoops were fully retracted into the catwalks. ``Done! Don't go anywhere. Make yourself at home.''

``Check the tape. I bet the security guard is \textit{dying} to. There are some things I want to try with a hoop. Things you probably haven't seen before.''

``Like what?''

``You won't believe me until you see it.''

``How fast can you swim?''

Shannon pointed to one end of the tank. ``I'll swim over there, then swim to the other side.''

``I don't have a stop watch.''

``It won't matter.'' She took a breath and dove.

\textit{What does she mean by \ldots\ oh \ldots} Shannon moved very quickly to one side of the tank. \textit{Wow!}

Cassie was expecting Shannon to surface, but she didn't. Shannon torpedoed across.

\textit{One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi. Holy shit.}

Shannon \textit{still} didn't surface, and swam back to the edge of the tank where Cassie was standing.

``Why are you here?'' the principal muttered, bored.

``Mr. Bailey is concerned that I've fallen in with a bad crowd. His concern is touching, but unwarranted.''

The bored look vanished.``Unwarranted?''

``I am quite sure of who I am, Principal Stanley. The bad crowd that Mr. Bailey believes I am falling into should be more worried that I might change them into who \textit{I} am.''

``And who are you?''

``Curious, but careful.''

``And they're not.''

``The only thing they're curious about is what new drugs might let them escape their lives.''

``I'm surprised to hear you talk that way about your friends.''

``They're not my friends \textit{yet}, just people who happen to be on the same journey.'

``Why did you go straight for them as soon as you ---''

Charlotte cut him off with a laugh. ``I went to the cafeteria first. The stares alone told me I wasn't welcome.''

``You could've sat with your friends.''

``The people who knew me before had the biggest stares. They've heard the rumours. I've changed. They don't know me anymore.''

``So you turned around and went straight for the smokers.''

``I don't blame them. If drugs are the only way they know that they can feel better, well, that's not their fault. They need help, not punishment and pity.''

https://blog.myfitnesspal.com/gluten-free-almond-butter-zucchini-muffins-2/ http://www.hummusapien.com/banana-zucchini-oatmeal-cups/

The crowd erupted, but quickly quieted then whined when they discovered that she was swimming out to sea.

``Five hours, I barely said a word, and she didn't say goodbye,'' Walter complained.

Henry turned. ``I know. Believe me, I know. It wasn't what we'd hoped for. Swimming out into the sunset is very dramatic, but she's not really going anywhere. She would've said goodbye if it wasn't so risky. She'll still call. You'll see her again. We'll find a way that you can actually talk, but it might take time.''

``Hey, are you her agent?'' a familiar voice called out.

Henry turned. The lifeguard he had talked to earlier was walking up to them.

Henry's gaze flicked to the tower. Another lifeguard had taken his place. ``I'm her boyfriend. I'm her agent for now, until she gets a better one.''

``What just happened?''

``A test run.''

``Testing what?''

``Her new tail, what she can do with it, the crowd's reaction \ldots\ in short, we wanted to see what would happen.''

``Nobody moves like that.''

``Nobody with legs.''

``What, exactly, do you mean by that?''

``Usually, people who lose their legs have their pick between a wheelchair, and a motorized wheelchair. She got to pick a third option.''

``How does she control it?''

``I'm not really the science guy of this operation.''

``Who is?''

Henry turned back out to sea and muttered, ``The man who has never had a face, called by a name that is not a name. Sorry, I'm not at liberty to divulge that information. But I'm happy to take any requests you might have for her entertainment services to her for approval.''

``Is she expensive?''

Henry winced. ``Did you forget I'm her boyfriend?''

``No. I could've asked if she was cheap.''

Henry sighed. ``Point taken. It's not about the money for her. She wants to see the look in someone's face that says they believe she's real. Make an offer, be clear on what you want, and I'll take it to her for her approval. She wants to perform for a crowd. No small parties unless there's other people there that aren't in the party. Saltwater only, with access to the ocean. It'll help with her image. Keep the mystery alive.''

``I didn't see anyone drop her off. Unless they came in a rowboat. How far did she come from?''

``Further than you'll believe.''

``She broke every world record to do with swimming today, with room to spare, didn't she.''

``All the records except ones with depth. She wanted to stay close to the surface to reduce the risks. She'll have to break those some other day. She's done well for a girl with no legs, but she's only happy when she's showing off. If she can make someone believe she's a real mermaid, even for a moment, she'll flip for joy.''

``She had me convinced the whole way in. I knew she couldn't have legs underneath that tail. Couldn't believe my eyes. He shook his head. ``My daughter's got a birthday coming up.

``Perfect. There's just one rule. Make sure no adults get within 10 feet of her.''

``Yeah, you're her boyfriend.''

``It's not that, she can take care of herself. She's had a lot of experimental work done. Her pupillary dilation has been adjusted so she can see better underwater. At 10 feet, depending on the lighting, she can \ldots\ make it seem like you're falling in love with her.''

The lifeguard laughed.

``If that happens, you'll get tunnel vision and feel an intense attraction. If you want to keep your relationships, it's best to look away.''

Shannon swam as close as she could while still keeping most of her tail underwater. As each wave broke, the water briefly covered her tail. She was horizontal. She propped her head up with her hands. ``Hey Mom! Hey Dad!''

Mary had a bathing suit on and sat right in front of her daughter. ``Henry said you looked good, but I thought it was because he loves you. Wow! Doesn't she look amazing Walter?''

``She sure does.''

Most of the people in the water were moving in Shannon's direction.

``Give her some space!'' Henry called out, but it was no use. Now, everyone in the water was following the crowd, and people on the beach were starting to move.

Buffer

``Shannon met a scientist. I’m going to call him TC. Officially, TC doesn’t exist. No nation claims him or interferes with his work. TC doesn’t even have a name, or if he does, I don’t know what it is. I’ve had many discussions with TC. From my introduction of him so far, you might think him some kind of mad scientist, but TC isn’t like that. He does nothing without careful consideration of all the variables involved, including any risks. Shannon made a deal with TC for a mermaid tail.’’

Shannon’s parents gasped. Shannon’s dad added, ``I’m guessing this tail wasn’t simply a costume?’’

``It’s a living creature. It breathes underwater like a fish.’’

Shannon’s parents gaped.

``At first, the risks were low. She got into it and out of it with no problems. TC told her the risks were increasing. TC told \textit{me} the risks were increasing. It was her dream. Her choice. She wouldn’t be dissuaded. —-’’

``What happened?’’

``She had options. She chose the tail, more than once. She no longer has the use of her legs.’’

``How is she?’’

``She appears to be a mermaid in the peak of health.’’

``Appears to be?’’

``Well, there aren’t standards to assess a mermaid’s health, since she’s the first, as far as anyone knows.’’

``She’s actually a mermaid.’’

``She breathes air like dolphins. Also, like dolphins, she can swim for 15 minutes on one breath. That’s a secret. She tells people it’s a costume. But everyone who’s seen her tail and has seen her move doesn’t believe her. They think she’s real.’’

``How is she, mentally?’’

``Honestly? Bored.’’

https://www.fastcompany.com/90360061/youre-probably-answering-these-5-common-interview-questions-wrong?utm_source=pocket-newtab

https://www.davidstea.com/ca_en/tea/more/retiring-teas%3A-up-to-50-off/bergamot-kisses/10719DT01VAR0064160.html?cgid=retiring-teas https://www.davidstea.com/ca_en/tea/more/retiring-teas%3A-up-to-50-off/zest-wishes/10706DT01VAR0061321.html?cgid=retiring-teas https://www.davidstea.com/ca_en/tea/more/retiring-teas%3A-up-to-50-off/movie-night/10287DT01VAR004125.html?cgid=retiring-teas https://www.davidstea.com/ca_en/tea/more/retiring-teas%3A-up-to-50-off/cookie-dough/10379DT01VAR0016474.html?cgid=retiring-teas

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7XFLTDQ4JMk

Book II:

You can have him.

Huh? What? No speech?

I was working on a speech. Adding to it little by little over the years. And now I have to give you the opposite one.

Action Charlotte quirked an eyebrow.

I expected that you would go to him, mooning over him, thinking he could do no wrong. But he would. He’s not a bad person, but everybody makes mistakes. They’d build up, neither of you doing anything about it. Now, he’s going to be mooning over \textit{you}, thinking \textit{you} can do no wrong, and now \textit{you} have to make it right. Don’t wait for him to call you on your mistakes. He won’t. Not at first. You have to make it right, until you two get past the infatuation stage.

What then?

Partnership. You do things for him, he does things for you. If you’re both happy with those things, then your relationship will work.

That doesn’t sound very romantic.

Oh. Did I say it wrong? \textit{He} does \textit{things} for you, and \textit{you} do \textit{things} for him, and \ldots

Action Charlotte cut Celestina off with laugher. ``If I show up at his door and say it’s OK, he won’t believe me.’’

I’ll write you a note.

He’ll think I forged it.

I’ll sign it in pink crayon and add silver and gold glitter. You would \textit{never}.

You’re right. I \textit{would} never.

Action Celestina went to work, grabbing things from various drawers, writing the note, and signing it as only a little girl would. She added silver and gold glitter then sprayed the note with an aerosol can that simply said \textit{sealer}.

The Computer made that?

It was a collaboration. It requires a very even heat to work, which I’m providing now. Without that, it dries lumpy. Now to cool it down \ldots\ and \ldots\ there.’’ Celestina held up the note. ``I’m not having kittens any more. You’re legal. Go forth and multiply.

Action Charlotte took the note, written with the businesslike efficiency of an adult and touched with enough little girl to turn Charlotte’s stomach. There was no question where it had come from. Charlotte took it gingerly, at first afraid of getting glitter on herself, then remembered the sealer. She rubbed at the note tentatively and found that the glitter stayed on.

Thanks!

Action Charlotte \textit{floated} straight to Derek’s door and knocked.

Action Derek answered the door. ``I still can’t believe my eyes.’’

Would you believe your hands?

Derek frowned deeply. ``Don’t promise what you can’t deliver.’’

Action Charlotte held up the note.

He took it and read it several times, then looked at her. She stood outside as he set it down on his desk, then came back to her. She took his hands in hers, then brought them up to her ears. As he ran his fingers over her ears, they twitched and flicked.

Action Derek was entranced.

Are you going to invite me in?

Oh, yeah.

Action In a moment, Charlotte was inside, and the door slammed shut as they both closed it with their gift at the same time.

She took the purple gosahtoh\footnote{A gosahtoh is a light sleeveless top covering the same part of the body as a tank top. It’s slightly thicker than a T—shirt. The length of the straps over the shoulders can be adjusted at the back.} between her fingers, enjoying the soft feel of the fabric.

https://academo.org/demos/3d-surface-plotter/

https://www.latimes.com/home/la-hm-get-your-earthquake-kit-started-20190330-story.html

https://dariusforoux.com/beat-procrastination/

``You \textit{need} to call your parents.''

``And say what, exactly? I spent a couple months on the streets until a fairy space princess sent her \textit{cutest} scout to get me to agree to go with him to see her?''

Several expressions went by on Celestina's face, too quick to figure out. ``Anything you say will only lead to questions you can't answer. You can't tell anybody about us. You can't even drop a hint. As soon as you say people helped you, they'll try to track people down. If you refuse to answer, they'll think you're protecting us, which you are. Except the only reason someone wouldn't want to be identified is if there was something illegal going on. Well, that's what they'll \textit{think}. If they think you're protecting us because you have Stockholm Syndrome, they'll assign a councillor to drag the truth out of you.''

``Stockholm Syndrome? Seriously?''

``I happen to be an authority on the subject. I've been inside the heads of a hundred children with it. If an authority thinks that you have it, we'll have to come up with some serious damage control. We can't run the risk. You can't even tell them that you're \textit{safe}. Safe implies you're staying with someone. You need to tell your parents that you're OK, you're not in danger, and you're feeling really exposed in the brightly lit and clear plastic phone booth and need to leave. You'll hang up the phone, and in three minutes or less, a police car is going to be at that cell phone.''

``What if I hang up in less than 45 seconds?''

``I asked David about that. Everything's digital now. Nobody traces a call anymore. The phone companies keep complete logs of everything for years. They know exactly what phone called what number and for how long. They just look it up in the system. The time limit thing is only in movies. There's nothing you can say, and there's no time limit. You need to be out of there.''

``OK.''

``Then they'll tap your parents' phone.''

``\textit{Really?}''

``The police might suggest it after they missed you. Your mom and dad would say yes. We can't take the chance. If there's a tap on your phone, I can't guarantee you'll get off Earth unseen after the second call. If you got caught, you'd have to own it, and you'd get home that night, even if your mom had to drive an hour to get wherever you called from. So, if you made that second call, you'd want it to be near home.''

``You're paranoid.''

``I haven't kept the secret for over 30 years on Earth by being sloppy.''

Charlotte stared at the little girl. ``Fair enough. Are you going to drop me off on Earth with no way to leave?''

``That decision is going to need a vote. You're also going to need a compass, and a way to hide it. So I'd recommend \textit{not} calling a second time. Show up at home.''

https://www.latimes.com/home/la-hm-get-your-earthquake-kit-started-20190330-story.html

https://dariusforoux.com/beat-procrastination/

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s9aUmVyy6H0

TeX was invented by Donald Knuth, a luminary in early computer science, and best known for publishing The Art of Computer Programming in 1968, which had all the most important algorithms. He came up with the concept of TeX in the late 70s, and worked on it in the 80s. For each new version of TeX, Knuth adds another digit of pi, as each version is smaller than the last, and closer to perfection. Version 3.14159265 was released in 2014. Donald Knuth wrote his vision of beautiful text as a series of rules and guidelines that the code used to make decisions, and these can be tweaked. If you'd rather have the line spacing on some pages get a tiny bit taller than have the occasional line with text going very slightly into the margin, you can do that. For another example, the default is to let TeX move figures forward or backward a page for overall good looks, but if you want a figure right next to the text that references it, you can do that.

Today, I'm going to talk about typesetting, and particularly LaTeX, my favourite software for typesetting. I always like to start at the end, so people know where I'm going. Here's the end product: a bunch of typeset words.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WTWdP5DMdsM

Book I: ``It’s so eerie. There’s no sound. I don’t feel any wind. There’s no way I could forget that I’m only watching. I’m not a part of this universe.’’

160 years old? Established yet?

``It never completely goes away, and you wouldn’t want to forget.’’

Book I: ``Every race gives it a name,’’ The Computer intoned.

``We should also give it a name,’’ Jahliti suggested.

``It changes everything around it, while it stays the same. It can break up families and cause new ones to form. It speeds up trade and communication,’’ Yeker summarized.

Fr\`{a}m noted, ``The device changes how people relate to each other. Just as a catalyst breaks and reforms atomic bonds, this device does the same with the bonds between people. It speeds up communication and trade between people while staying the same, just as a catalyst speeds up chemical reactions without changing.’’

``The Catalyst Device,’’ Jahliti finished.

They all agreed.

``We’re going to want to do three quick blasts every five minutes until we hear someone whistle back.’’

``Then what?’’

``We need to tell them we need help for three people.’’

``How?’’

``Morse code.’’

``Do you know Morse code?’’

``Sort of.’’

``Anybody else know Morse Code?’’

Pause.

``OK. Work together on a message. It needs to be short and clear. Something that can’t be confused with something else. And don’t sound like a kid screwing around.’’

``How do I do that?’’

``Strong. Confident. Clear. The opposite of this.’’

Teresa heard a half—hearted blast.

``Three quick ones is an emergency?’’ Charlotte asked.

Pause.

``I’d say all the adults down is an emergency.’’

Teresa heard three quick whistle blasts. They were urgent, clear, and instantly put her on edge.

``Whistle like \textit{that}. \ldots\ That’s right, everyone, we’re in a state of emergency. Don’t forget it. We need everyone together on this.’’

——

``We’re going to want to do three quick blasts every five minutes until we hear someone whistle back.’’

``Then what?’’

``We need to tell them we need help for three people.’’

``How?’’

``Morse code.’’

``Do you know Morse code?’’

``Sort of.’’

``Anybody else know Morse Code?’’

Pause.

``OK. Work together on a message. It needs to be short and clear. Something that can’t be confused with something else. And don’t sound like a kid screwing around.’’

``How do I do that?’’

``Strong. Confident. Clear. The opposite of this.’’

Teresa heard a half—hearted blast.

``Three quick ones is an emergency?’’ Charlotte asked.

Pause.

``I’d say all the adults down is an emergency.’’

Teresa heard three quick whistle blasts. They were urgent, clear, and instantly put her on edge.

``Whistle like \textit{that}. \ldots\ That’s right, everyone, we’re in a state of emergency. Don’t forget it. We need everyone together on this.’’

``Don’t you mean \textit{mental}?’’ a girl asked.

``Nope. Metal. Like heavy metal.’’

``I don’t get it,’’ the same girl complained.

``Wow, no cred there,’’ another boy teased.

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Nurse Cooper walked into Charlotte’s ward. A little girl was sitting as close as she could to Charlotte, and staring intently at her. The little girl looked nothing like Charlotte or Charlotte’s foster family, but that worried, searching gaze screamed \textit{sister}.

``I’m Nurse Cooper. Are you Charlotte’s sister?’’

The little girl looked up and grinned. ``Hi! I’m Celestina. I am Charlotte’s sister in many ways, but not legally.’’

\textit{I have absolutely no response to that. Moving on.} ``Where are your parents?’’

``They died.’’

Nurse Cooper’s heart sank. ``Who takes care of you?’’

``Everyone.’’ The little girl turned back to Charlotte. ``Everything’s too low. Glutamate, Norepinephrine. But serotonin and dopamine are \textit{dangerously} low. She needs 5-HTP and a dopamine precursor, like TODO.’’

Nurse Cooper was floored. ``Are you a doctor?’’ she challenged.

``Yes, but my credentials are no good here.’’

``OK, your patient has an acute subdural hematoma —-‘’

Celestina’s eyes narrowed. ``No she doesn’t \ldots’’

Nurse Cooper’s eyes went wide and took a step back. \textit{That’s true. She doesn’t.} ``I meant \ldots\ it was a test. I was giving you a scenario.’’

``Oh. Proceed.’’

Nurse Cooper blinked.

``CT scans show that the condition in your \textit{hypothetical} patient is getting worse.’’

``Is the patient on blood thinners?’’

\textit{That’s one of most important questions to ask, if not the most important.} ``OK, I think we’re done here.’’

``Darn. I was having fun,’’ she tossed off, then got serious. ``She needs precursors for serotonin and dopamine. Soon.’’

``If you were having so much fun \ldots\ As another little test, why don’t you tell me why we can’t just \textit{give} her the serotonin and dopamine?’’

``Neither passes the blood—brain barrier.’’

``How much?’’

``She needs 200 milligrams of 5-HTP every 12 hours until her condition changes. I doubt anyone would authorize an injection of L—DOPA, so we’re probably looking at L—tyrosine as a precursor. Safe. Minimal chance of overdose. She needs 3,000 milligrams every 6 hours until her condition changes. And she’s going to need them soon. I’d take her to my clinic and do it myself if she was stable.’’

\textit{Clinic? No, I have a better question.} ``What are those numbers based on?’’

``Treating other patients with her condition, adjusted for her weight.’’

Nurse Cooper left the room at the fastest pace that wouldn’t cause a collision. It took her a minute to find a doctor. ``There’s a little girl with a new treatment plan for a patient. Would you talk to her?’’

The doctor smiled. ``That’s adorable. What’s the treatment plan?’’

``That would be 200 milligrams 5-HTP every 12 hours and 3,000 milligrams L—tyrosine every 6 hours until her condition changes.’’

The doctor frowned. ``Did you say \textit{little} girl?’’

``She looks like she’s five. You need to talk to her.’’

``How old is she?’’

``Obviously, not five. I never asked.’’

Nurse Cooper guided the doctor back to Charlotte’s ward.

Celestina slid off the too large chair and walked around Charlotte’s bed.

The nurse, the doctor, and Celestina looked awkwardly at each other for a few moments.

Celestina was first to speak. ``I need you to listen to my heart. Literally.’’

No one moved. The little girl gestured the doctor forward with one index finger while tapping on her heart with the other.

The doctor moved slowly toward her and put the eartips of his stethoscope in. She pulled up her top and he carefully moved the chest—piece into position.

\textit{That’s odd, I thought she was wearing a dress.}

``What?’’ he breathed. ``Are you OK?’’

``I’m amazing. Now listen to the other one.’’ She tapped on the other side of her chest.

He paused for a moment, then moved the chest—piece to the other side. He moved it back and forth. ``They’re hard to hear and not in sync.’’

``There’s nothing wrong with the rhythm of my hearts, by the standards of my people. Now, I have come a \textit{breathtakingly} long distance to save my friend. Do you have a plan to safely get her out of that coma in three days?’’

No one spoke.

``Then I suggest mine.’’

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``I melted his heart. And a few other things. There wasn’t much time. I had to be sure.’’

The other students repeated her words in incredulous tones.

Jason murmured, ``Wait. I thought organics burned.’’

``You need air to burn things,’’ Charlotte lectured. ``Pretty sure I melted it.’’

``That is \textit{so}. \textit{Fucking. Metal,}’’ a boy gushed.

``You do realize,’’ Charlotte intoned, ``that although I don’t give a shit about swearing, you’re going to have to stop when our rescuers get here.’’

Teresa heard wordless grumbling.

``Could you do to that to \ldots\ like, a human heart?’’ a boy whimpered.

``Of course not.’’

``Why not?’’ The boy asked.

``Because then I’d have people from at least three planets after me. Oh, and also, it’s wrong.’’

``You \textit{immobilized} the adults?’’ a girl gasped, her tone a mix of admiration and incredulity.

``Oh, don’t go all \textit{Lord of the Flies} on me, we’re not even going to spend the night here.’’

``I was on my back, under a tarp. We brought one. The students constructed a shelter over the three of us. I couldn’t figure out what the tarp was tied to. They looked like trees with no branches, but I looked out of the shelter and couldn’t see a single tree all the way to the river. It was quiet, and then I heard Charlotte’s voice.’’

\vignette

``They’ll be here in hours. It’ll be dark soon, but all of us are going to sleep \textit{most} of this night tonight in our beds, safe at home. We’re going to be tired, and wet, and cold, and it’s going to be miserable. But we’re all going to go home and take a nice hot shower and go to bed, and grumble about this night for the rest of our lives. We’re not really that far from civilization. Nobody’s in any danger.’’

``What about wild animals?’’ a girl worried.

``Charlotte will scare them off,’’ Jason replied with complete confidence, as if her mere presence would be enough.

\textit{Did I hear that right?}

``We can make shelter!’’ a boy called out.

``For 45 people? In half an hour?’’

There were furtive whispers.

``What do you expect me to do, pull iron ore out of the ground, smelt it in the air with my mind, then hammer it into a thin sheet?’’

More furtive whispers followed.

``No, I can’t do that.’’

More whispering.

``No, there isn’t enough iron ore here.’’

Silence, then whispers.

``No, I can’t check the composition of the ground with my mind,’’ Charlotte tossed back. ``If there was enough iron ore here, close to the surface, then this place wouldn’t be a hiking trail. It would be a mine.’’

\textit{OK, they’re screwing with me. They know I’m awake, and they’re \ldots}

Whispers.

``Clay,’’ a girl stated.

Silence.

``A ceramic shelter,’’ Charlotte mulled.

``It’ll fall apart in the rain. My Mom makes pottery. If you don’t glaze it, it’ll fall apart.’’

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—— She spoke into a radio. ``Send her out.’’

For a few seconds, nothing happened. Something moved in the tank. When the shape was halfway across, Brandy could tell that it was a mermaid. The term \textit{effortless} was not strong enough to describe her movement. She was \textit{coasting} without the smallest flick of her tail.

\textit{How can she do that with that much hair?}

The mermaid surfaced a dozen yards from the potentials. ``Hi! Congratulations on making it to the final 16. My marketing team wants to call me Tallulah, Enchantress of the Seven Seas. I think it’s over—the—top, but they say it’s perfect for Vegas. You can call me Shannon. Here are my credentials.’’

She took a deep breath and dove, flicking the end of her tail above the water for a split second. In seconds, she was at the bottom of the tank. Then she shot up from the bottom faster than any human Brandy had seen.

\textit{She’s going for the 20 foot hoop. That’s impossible. Even with a monofin, nobody can do more than get their body fully out of the water.}

Shannon burst from the water and grabbed the bottom of the 20 foot hoop.

\textit{Is there a wire?}

She pushed herself up on her elegant but weak looking arms, and through the hoop. She dove, entering the water with a splash smaller than an Olympic diver.

Brandy’s jaw dropped. She wanted to see the reaction of the other potentials, but she was riveted.

Shannon moved faster still, getting to the bottom in moments. She flipped bonelessly and headed up. She flew out of the water and dove directly through the hoop, seeming to slow down at the apex. She dove into the water again with equal precision. She swam under the water and her head poked above the surface about a dozen yards away.

No one spoke for a long time.

``The NDA covers you knowing that she exists,’’ Stephanie intoned. ``How she does it is still a trade secret.’’

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-Chris.

``Have a seat, wherever you feel comfortable.''

``Maybe later. Come with me.'' She walked through the door into the office, passing the therapist, and walked to the window. She looked out. There wasn't much activity in the parking lot below. Past that was endless houses. She looked back into the room.

He was standing in the middle of the room, ill at ease.

She beckoned him with a finger.

His footsteps approached.

She looked back. He was still giving her a lot of space. She beckoned him again.

He came to the window, still giving her space, and looked out. ``What are we looking at?''

``It used to be freedom.''

``Help me understand.''

``Do what I want, when I want. Eat when I want, sleep when I want \ldots\ be careful what you wish for.''

``Outside. It used to be freedom.''

``And now I know better. She turned to face him. ``What did they tell you?

``Rumours never help me understand. It's always best to hear things directly.''

``That's good. But \ldots\ I mean \ldots\ what did your boss tell you? Why am I here?''

``There are a lot of people concerned for you.''

Charlotte laughed, and muttered, ``More than you know. She called out, ``When does it end?

``When does \textit{what} end?'' he replied carefully.

``If I don't open up. If I keep things back. Do we go around in circles, with therapy sessions until the school board and Children's Aid give up, or the legal system decides I'm old enough to be allowed to keep secrets?''

``Three and a half years, until you're 18. That's a long time---''

Charlotte laughed. ``It certainly is. An eternity for me.''

``You can't say today that you won't open up in three and a half years,'' he entreated.

She looked back outside and muttered, ``My future depends on it.''

``Please help me understand.''

Charlotte remained silent.

``Your future depends on you keeping this secret. Your future with the people you're keeping the secret for?'' he ventured.

Charlotte said nothing.

``You want to go back. To the people that helped you.''

``They think that it would be best if I was here.''

``What do \textit{you} think?''

``I don't belong here.''

``Everyone your age feels that way.''

She whirled on him. ``Everyone my age is trying to figure out where they fit in this world. The smart ones are, anyway. The others are swimming with the current. I don't belong on this world \textit{at all}.''

He was quiet for a long moment. ``What's your plan?''

``I'm marking time until they decide this charade is over.''

``Tell me what that looks like.''

``Huh?''

``Describe it for me. The moment you know they came back for you.''

``They'd appear out of thin air, out of the blue. We'd hug. I'd probably cry. I'd get a few things, and we'd go, leaving everything behind.''

``Go? Describe it for me.''

``All those shows and movies with the star field are wrong. That's not what it's like. It's not like you're surrounded by darkness. It's like you're surrounded by light.''

``Then what?''

She deliberately romanticized it, though not by much. ``Then you're somewhere else.''

He gestured to the room. ``Let's sit.''

She sat on the couch, and he sat in a chair.

He ventured, ``You can't spend your whole life waiting---''

``I won't. A few years at most.''

``Charlotte, I think you should prepare for the idea that they might not come back.''

His tone was soft and considerate, but his words sliced through her defences, knocking down her carefully constructed fa\c{c}ade. She was a fifteen--year--old girl again. She had not prepared enough. Simultaneously, she shot to her feet, terror and pain in her eyes, and tears on the way. She opened and slammed the door before the first tear fell to the ground. She ran out of the building and didn't stop running until she found a phone booth.

It was a blur. \textit{Purse. Wallet. Quarter. Receiver. Deposit. Dial.}

``Davis Residence,'' Scott answered.

``Said something \ldots\ hurt me \ldots'' Charlotte blubbered.

``Your therapist said something to hurt you?''

``Yeah \ldots\ ran \ldots\ phone booth \ldots\ TODO.''

``I'm coming right now. Don't go anywhere.''

``OK.'' Charlotte hung up.

She could barely see through the tears, but she found the wall of the building next to the phone booth and leaned heavily against it. She tried to use Celestina's deep breathing technique, but the idea of her not coming back, or any of them not coming back, made more tears come.

Several people asked her if she was OK. She told them all that her dad was coming.

He pulled up, took one look at her and jumped out, leaving it running. She ran into his arms. After crying into his chest for a while, they headed home. Every time he tried to ask her a question she shook her head.

At home, Charlotte went to her room and Scott walked over to the phone with a very dark look on his face. Isabella and Chloe were with their mom at swimming practice.

Charlotte cried for a long time.

The knock at her door could only be Scott. ``Charlotte?''

``Coming.'' She looked at her face in the small mirror on her desk. She was a mess. \textit{Fine. Good.} She opened her door.

``I called your social worker. Your councillor already called. He apologized, saying he went too far. He took full responsibility. They're going to find you someone else.''

Charlotte said nothing.

``How do you feel about that?''

Charlotte considered several ways to answer and rejected all of them. ``I don't know.''

``He shouldn't have said \ldots\ whatever it was.''

``\textit{Obviously!}''

``That's not what I mean. A councillor shouldn't have gone that far in the first session, then lose you as you ran away.''

``I'm fast.''

``I know, but my point is \ldots\ he didn't just make a mistake, he screwed up. It sounded like he was too stunned to follow you. He might lose his job.''

Charlotte walked over to her bed, sat, then collapsed with her hands on her knees.

``It's not your fault.''

``I'm hearing a lot of that lately. And I'm starting to believe it less and less, she told the floor. ``This whole situation is getting way out of hand. I need advice.

``You're overflowing with people to talk to.''

``No one here can help. I'm going to need to talk with ---''

Charlotte sensed a raw energy burst. \textit{Did I imagine it?} There were two more. \textit{Someone's listening. They heard me.} Charlotte looked up.

``What?''

``Have you ever come to a realization, out of the blue?''

``Of course. Some people call that an epiphany.''

``Things are going to change. Soon. I can \textit{feel} it.''

TODO

``He was out of line to push that far on our first session.''

``Are you happy that you'll be seeing someone new?''

``It doesn't matter. He's not going to make that same mistake for a while, not with me or anyone else.''

``You'd see him \textit{again}?''

``Not tomorrow, but yeah.''

``That's a remarkably grown--up attitude.''

``\textit{Finally.} Someone who sees me as an adult.''

Hi Steve,

I hope you and yours had a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays.

I've finished all five online courses. I've learned a lot, particularly with economy of words, and plot. The character and setting courses were helpful too. I can give you more details about the courses if you're interested.

I've written a new first scene where we see Michael before his life gets turned upside down. I've included specific details in the first scene to set the story clearly in 1958.

I've taken all the repetition out of the warlord fights by consolidating all the material into a single fight, and I've added more action overall. That work was considerable: I had to rework the timeline of the whole book.

I've significantly decreased Michael's lines in the impossible Velodonian language, removing the scene with the clerk entirely. I'm going to do another pass to see if there's a way I can reduce those lines further.

I've removed headings for any jump in time that's less than a few hours. Near the end of the book, there's one shift in perspective for one paragraph and a shift back, without headings. I believe I've made the switches clear by including detail that would be clear to one character but not the other.

My wife read the first half of my latest draft (so far) and told me that it moves along better.

I've added a few new scenes: Michael takes a trip out of the galaxy and around the Local Group, Michael goes to A'al'wei Prime, and Michael's relationship with Gloria plays out to a conclusion.

I believe I've already incorporated all of your other feedback. I'm taking another pass now to remove words, sentences, and scenes that aren't important. I've identified a few scenes that still need to be added. I plan to show Michael learning how to get to the warehouse (the meeting location). I made a reference to a party being held in Michael's honour that was never shown. There's also a third scene that's needed now that the warlord fights have been consolidated.

I expect these changes to take 2-4 weeks, at which point I'm planning to send that draft to you.

Thanks again, -Chris.

Book I

Chapter 3

he boasted.

Remove

be able to see

to see

Matthew had been the first human E′il′nahad had revealed himself to, and his loss hurt more.

Matthew had been the first human E′il′nahad had revealed himself to. They had laid so much of the groundwork together, done so much research. Matthew's loss hurt more, but Kimberly's loss would always be on his heart.

Paragraph break after

forced his thoughts back to the present

This time, he was successful

To make our partnership mutually beneficial.

Remove, add paragraph break after with continuing quotes

We eleven

The ten of us?

You will need to find

We will need to find

this planet

Earth

this world

Earth

Book I

As she was giving him a soft landing, he opened his eyes and took in the scene at a glance.

As she was giving him a soft landing, he could already hear people talking. He opened his eyes. She had phased them in near the end of a short line of chairs. A few were seated, but most were standing. Gloria stood to Michael’s left. The chairs were in a slight arc, no doubt so that everyone could see each other better. All the chairs were different except for the two closest to Michael. One chair was smaller than the others, but it didn’t have the characteristic look of a child’s chair: it wasn’t brightly coloured, and it didn’t have animals on it. It looked like an office chair. Michael figured E′il′nahad must have brought it. There were 10 chairs. There was a lectern to Michael's right.

He sensed Gloria’s presence, but he sensed the others as a collective presence.

A few people noticed the new arrivals.

``Hey, it's Michael! Welcome! I'm Matthew.'' He came over.

The fully--grown three--foot--tall man skipped over to him.

E′il′nahad frowned. Everyone behind him looked like they were trying not to laugh.

Shake with Matthew and Eilnahad

six inches lower and on the other side of his body than where

15 cm

Michael paused, then moved on.

Remove

The others were all smiling and nodding. Glo- ria, still standing, giggled behind her hand. Michael counted seven seated people. Nine humans total, in- cluding Gloria and I.

Remove

Time to make the introductions.

The rest of the introductions

When it activates, it calls everyone with the gift from across the multiverse to its location.

Move to next paragraph, add:

Although how it works, who made it, how it was made, and when and where it appears are mysteries, we \textit{do} know \textit{exactly} what it does after it shows up. Not more than a few weeks after it is discovered, it activates, calling everyone with the gift from across the multiverse to its location.

two races have found each other that was not mediated by The Pendant of Destinies.”

two races have opened a dialogue that was not mediated by The Pendant of Destinies.”

our technology for now

our scanning technology for now and go back to The Pendant of Destinies.

No one knows where or when it will appear next. There is a time between when it appears and when it ac- tivates, and this too is unknown, and different from activation to activation. No one knows how to delib- erately activate it, and no one has been able to stop its activation.

Combine with previous

We don’t believe that the effect can be moved until it ends, but there is a story that a group of people managed to phase out the entire planet on which it had activated, and phasing out the planet stopped the effect. We believe this story is exaggerated, to say the least.

We don’t believe that the effect can be moved until it ends. But there is a story that a group of people managed to phase out the entire planet on which it had activated, and phasing out the planet stopped the effect. We believe this story is exaggerated, to say the least.

And the Holarans help all races they know, but there ar

Remove And

It was time for the next meeting. and Gloria

It was time for Michael's second meeting. Gloria

Her voice went up to a

She stopped whispering.

but no one noticed.

Remove following single quote

Chapter 3

he boasted.

Remove

be able to see

to see

Matthew had been the first human E′il′nahad had revealed himself to, and his loss hurt more.

Matthew had been the first human E′il′nahad had revealed himself to. They had laid so much of the groundwork together, done so much research. Matthew's loss hurt more, but Kimberly's loss would always be on his heart.

Paragraph break after

forced his thoughts back to the present

This time, he was successful

To make our partnership mutually beneficial.

Remove, add paragraph break after with continuing quotes

We eleven

The ten of us?

You will need to find

We will need to find

this planet

Earth

this world

Earth

``You haven't read any comic books?''

Marlene shook her head.

``No science--fiction books? No science--fiction movies?''

Marlene shook her head again.

\textit{There was no padding on the way down. No cushion waiting for her at the bottom of the hole. Must've been ghastly.} ``I remember asking Gloria if there were any other impossible things. I had to know that I'd hit bottom. He looked to the others. ``She \textit{is} at the bottom, right?

Donna nodded, then frowned. ``She hasn't been to a market yet. She hasn't seen the other races.''

Michael winced, remembering the mere description of the Maasgeel. ``Maybe we could show her pictures first?''

Book I:

``\Gls{Eilnahad} told me that you don't have money here,'' Michael began.

Jahliti racked her brain for several moments. ``I don't know how to answer.''

``Do you have a job?''

Jahliti's eyes lit up. ``Yes! I'm a writer.''

``Do you get paid for your work?''

``Yes.''

``So you sell your books, and \ldots''

Jahliti looked confused. ``I don't sell my books. I get paid based on how many people read my work. Books, movies, and all other entertainment that doesn't require labour for each copy is free.''

``What kind of entertainment \textit{isn't} free?''

``One example is live theatre.''

Michael summarized, ``No one buys your books, but you get compensation for every person who reads your work.''

``Yes! You understand!''

``I don't think I do. You get money, but people don't buy your books? Where does the money come from?''

``The Computer.''

``I'm still lost.''

``Where does the money come from on your world?''

``The government prints and circulates \ldots\ oh. On Kalivar, the Computer acts as the central bank, as well as everyone's retail bank.''

``Now \textit{I} don't understand.''

``The Computer controls the money supply, \textit{and} keeps track of everyone's balance. How much you all have in your account.''

``Yes.''

``You know, it \textit{sounds} like a horrible idea to combine those two things.''

Jahliti shrugged. ``Why?''

``No group or individual on my planet could be trusted with that kind of power, Michael muttered. ``You said before that it costs nothing to print a book?

``That's not true. \textit{Printing} a book \textit{does} have a cost associated with it. But people can read my work without printing a book. We have devices that can show each page of a book, displaying the next page when needed. It costs nothing to read a book that way.''

``Like microfiche?''

She gave him a confused look.

``We can make smaller versions of documents. When we want to read them, we have devices to magnify the smaller copies. We can move through the documents page by page with controls on the devices.''

``I'm not sure how those two things are related.''

``The image from the microfiche is projected onto a screen. The screen displays one page, then another. The words are projected, and not printed on it.''

``I see what you mean. Only in \textit{our} case, there's no small version to be reproduced for each person who wants to read the book. It costs nothing to duplicate words.''

``How many people read your work?''

``I have a small, loyal following of several thousand. My work pays for a few luxuries, like the apartment I share with my family.''

``Tell me about your family.''

``Seler and I are bound. Jahliti looked up. ``Is it like marriage?

The Computer replied, ``The word \textit{marriage} carries many connotations which will lead to accurate assumptions.''

Jahliti looked back at Michael. ``Seler is my husband. He sings.''

``Does he have records?''

``His work has been recorded, and he performs live. He has hundreds of thousands of fans.''

Michael's eyebrows went up. ``Hearing his work is free?''

``Yes.''

``Seeing him perform costs money?''

``Yes.''

``Do you have children?''

``We have a son. His name is Herican.''

``How old is he?''

Jahliti looked up in confusion. ``I don't know the conversion to Earth units.''

``He is 11 years old,'' The Computer supplied.

``Do you have school here?''

``Not like yours.''

https://stanforddailyarchive.com/cgi-bin/stanford?a=d&d=stanford19580528-01.2.39&e=-------en-20--1--txt-txIN-june+23%2c+1958------

Book I: Xenophilic?

The humans are xenophilic, then?

``It would seem so. Though the humans seem to have a strong aversion to the insects of their world. I doubt many humans would flirt with a ---''

\Gls{Eilnahad} made a sound like a spider in steel boots skittering across a floor.

``On the other hand, he continued. ``Perhaps there are a few who would. The length and breadth of humanity's interests and aversions is astounding.

Book I: Q and A

No flying cars? Not on any planet?

This is the part where we throw a wet blanket on some elements of the most popular and enduring stories of the modern era. (Hopefully our musings are taken in a respectful way. Make no mistake: these are the ones we like.) Those who aren't ready for hard truths should skip this answer.

As I write these very words, it's 2018. It's a time that still sounds futuristic to me, and it's a time of mild disillusionment. Out there, in the real world, personal flying cars don't seem to be any closer than they were when they were introduced. The closest thing to being on the market is a ``roadable aircraft'', which converts from an airplane to something that functions as a car, but doesn't look like one. It's likely to cost over \$100,000, and it will require a pilot's license. The idea that AI might fly our flying cars is well into the far--flung future. Multiple sources are reporting that our early AI is having trouble getting over a speed bump trying to drive our non--flying cars. We believe the principal reason we still don't have flying cars is that flight consumes a great deal of energy. There are two ways that would change: antigravity and cheap, plentiful, sustainable energy.

We're still trying to figure out how gravity works. At least we've found the Higgs boson. Even if we could one day control gravity like we control electricity, there is never a free lunch in physics. It's likely to require just as much energy, and probably more, to create antigravity compared with what perfectly ordinary powered flight requires.

Let's switch gears to abundant, clean, and cheap energy. Perhaps we'll figure out fusion, or fission safe enough that even a crash from 15,000 feet would pose no challenges. NASA can make fission devices safe enough to crash after failing to be launched into space, but they wouldn't provide enough energy to propel a car, and they're horribly expensive. At present, safe fusion or safe fission small enough to fit in a personal vehicle are looking closer than antigravity, but all of these seem very far off. In summary, personal flying cars are looking more and more impractical by the day, but hope springs eternal.

From the ``More Hard Truths Department'', a large burst of gamma rays will give you cancer or aplastic anemia, and won't turn you into a superhero. Being bitten by a radioactive spider isn't likely to be much different than being bitten by a non--radioactive spider of the same species. If the radioactive spider is still alive, that puts a limit on how radioactive it can be. The tiny quantity of radioactivity in the mandibles or the venom is unlikely to have a measurable effect. (But don't try it at home.)

In closing, The Siren Amulet was born in the midst of this disillusionment. We hope that in 20--50 years we won't all look back on this novel, gravity, and dark energy the same way we think about gamma rays and radioactivity now: well known things with clear boundaries about what they can and can't do. We still hope for fully immersive holographic displays and some kind of inexpensive air taxi. AI--piloted personal flying cars within reach of the middle class still seem so far away. Time will tell whether we've bet on the right ponies.

Book I:

\Gls{Eilnahad} took Michael to an industrial park on Aribonn. Semi trucks drove, parked, and departed from large, greyish, mostly nondescript buildings via normal looking roads. Low, subtle signs in Aribonnian announced which building was which, but Michael couldn't read them. \Gls{Eilnahad} phased them in near the entrance of one of the buildings.

``It feels a little weird phasing in in public,'' Michael muttered in English.

``Good. I hope you don't lose that feeling. Giving an extra thought to that may come in handy on Earth.''

The two Travellers stood on a sidewalk that stretched from the entrance around the corner of the building. Between the sidewalk and the street was a grid of trees that had no branches lower than eye level. Above eye level, they had a ball of slightly yellowish leaves. The shape was similar to an orange tree, but they didn't have fruit, or at least, there was nothing visible other than the leaves.

Michael watched a semi roll past on the street 40 yards\footnote{metres} away. ``They're a million years ahead of Earth and they still have trucks and roads? Michael commented, disappointed. ``The trucks are the same shape as on Earth. Even the lines on the road are dashed white.

``They have electric engines and advanced battery technology. Clean and efficient. Aerodynamics are the same everywhere, so yes, they have the same shape. Flight is expensive, energy-wise, not to mention risky. Subways aren't cheap either, but sometimes they make sense. There's a reason you use white dashed lines. White reflects light the best, and it's cheaper not to draw a solid line. I'm sure the paint itself is quite different, as well as the material they use for the road, but is it really that surprising?''

``Huh. You know, we could be anywhere on Earth where I don't understand the language.''

``Look harder,'' \Gls{Eilnahad} suggested.

Michael frowned and looked around. ``The trucks don't have exhaust pipes. The cabs are more sleek, sloping back. They're wider than on Earth, and the trailers aren't as long. And they're really quiet. I don't see any drivers. Oh! And the median line is purple.''

``Good. The trucks operate automatically most of the time, but they can be remotely controlled for those few occasions when it's necessary. And when things \textit{really} go wrong, they can be driven manually, like a vehicle on Earth.''

``And the purple?''

``They think of the colour spectrum in the opposite way you do. It's equivalent to your red. Let's move on.''

\Gls{Eilnahad} walked up to the transparent doors of the building with Michael in tow. \Gls{Eilnahad} continued, ``Aribonnian has evolved over time to be very easy to speak by a wide range of people. The closest you can expect anyone to get to your name is \textit{Maikale}. Avoid encouraging anyone to get closer. Some may consider it disrespectful. Their planet, their language, their rules.''

The doors slid open to each side automatically, which was still novel to Michael. Inside, the walls were light orange. Ahead, a young male receptionist with black hair touching his shoulders sat behind a semicircular black desk. Michael had the vaguest sense of culture shock. A pair of opaque doors painted the same light orange was on the left.

\Gls{Eilnahad} switched to Aribonnian and introduced them.

``Maikale. You're right on time, the receptionist replied. ``I'll page your trainer. Please have a seat. The receptionist gestured with an upturned hand. All five of his fingers were together with his thumb parted. \textit{Six total. That'll be difficult to get used to. Everything is like Earth but just slightly different.}

Michael managed to stop staring at the receptionist's hand and turned, finding seating along the back wall that he'd missed before. There were over a dozen chairs in four different sizes, with half on either side of the door.

\Gls{Eilnahad} switched back to English. ``I'll be here at the end of your session.''

Michael nodded and took a seat as \Gls{Eilnahad} left through the doors. Michael didn't wait long.

A pair of doors on Michael's left opened, and a man walked through. Michael couldn't help but look at the man's hands. He had five fingers and a thumb, which marked him as a native. \textit{Are they still called digits if there's twelve? I guess so.} The man looked newly into middle-age with close cropped dark hair and walked with an easy, confident stride. ``Maikale?''

Michael stood.

``I am Kaisu. I'll be your trainer. Follow me.''

Michael followed Kaisu through the orange automatic doors into a single room the size of a two--story factory. ``Wow!'' he breathed. He continued to look around as he followed Kaisu further into the room.

Small dividers on casters separated smaller areas, but most of the space was open. Light poured down from the ceiling from a grid, like the grout of a tile floor had been made white hot.

Michael wrenched his gaze away from the curious ceiling to look at the floor. Brightly coloured balls and blocks of every size and material were scattered around. Many areas had mats, and some areas had thicker mats. Where the floor was visible, it was featureless grey. Several dozen people from about three--feet high to about ten--feet high\footnote{One metre to three meters} in a variety of clothing were working alone, in pairs, or in small groups. The dividers suggested there might be more people.

``Knock this ball out of its holder,'' Kaisu directed.

Michael brought his attention back to the immediate area. A large red ball was sitting on or in some kind of plinth. It looked like a four foot tall Stanley Cup, though with much less ornamentation.

Michael stretched out his right hand and used a conversion to push the ball from the plinth. It bounced and rolled several yards until it hit a low divider.

``Don't \textit{dinshon}.''

``Sorry, I don't know that word.''

``By stretching out your arm, you're telling your opponent something's coming. Also, you look stupid.''

``It helps me focus,'' Michael complained.

``If your opponent knows your attack is coming, it will never land.''

The ball went up into the air and dropped back into the holder.

``Did you \ldots'' Michael started.

``Yes. You sensed nothing when I put it back?''

``No, nothing.''

``We'll get there, Kaisu promised. ``Again.

Michael's hand twitched. \textit{This is going to be harder than I thought.}

She cackled with glee. ``We never have to worry about abducting \textit{them}. If that full body giggle you saw before doesn't do it, I nudge the bell with my finger, twitch my ears, and give them a cute questioning look. After that, they'd follow me through hell. On a leash.''

I shuddered. I was sure she could feel it through my hand. ``You know Japanese?''

She giggled. ``I'm a cat girl. Isn't it practically required? I'm OK in Japanese. I don't need much.''

``No doubt \ldots''

Book I:

``Are there any little green men?''

``No. I'm afraid they are quite large.''

``Big green men?''

``Maasgeel men grow to over 8 feet tall, are covered in green scales, and have eyes that are red, white, and black.''

``Lizard people? Michael wondered aloud. ``I'm sorry, that was ---

``They may have evolved from a species similar to your lizards, but the similarity is only scale deep.''

Book I:

``His skin is too pink, his eyes are too small, his mouth is too big ---''

``Sounds like you don't think he's a good fit.''

``I'm just trying to see him as a Kalivarian would. Obviously I'm not doing a very good job of it. They chose him. No. He's an excellent choice. I have no reservations with his skill.''

Book I: Michael is chosen

``As you requested, I short--listed all the people that are available to train the Kalivarians and dropped off pictures with The Computer.''

``The Computer removed some of the more obvious poor choices, and presented that list to the Kalivarians. They all chose Michael.''

``One of the humans? Why did you include \textit{any} of the humans? They're all untrained or barely trained. This technology transfer is too important to ---''

``He is \textit{trellig}.''

She gasped, her expression and tone shifting from angry to excited in a moment. ``Tell me the story of how you discovered him!''

``They chose Michael.''

``I was surprised myself. He certainly has the right height and the right number of fingers. \Gls{Eilnanad} looked idly at his three fingers and thumb with amusement. ``His complexion is a reasonable match, and his hair and facial features would not be terribly out of place on Kalivar. But I was sure they were going to pick one of the Sidgellan, or perhaps a Nesset. Perhaps Michael is just different enough to be exotic. Certainly there is nothing more bewildering in the multiverse than personal preference.

``Why say \textit{personal} preference? They all chose him?''

``They are one people, speaking one language, having one culture. No rich nor poor. No money at all. No distinctiveness, other than in their dress, accessories, and how they decorate their residences. I have never seen anything like it. It would not surprise me if they thought the same as well.''

``No reason for someone to take up arms against another. Sounds like paradise.''

``Everything is rationed. Can you imagine giving up weeks of hot showers to take an extra trip? Or something like that, anyway. They may not have money, but everything is still accounted for. Everything extra requires a sacrifice. And The Computer has been lying to them. We're going to save them from something they didn't realize was coming. We're going to save them, and they won't know.''

Book I Time Notes: The sport was first introduced to the United States in about 1902 when then US President, Theodore Roosevelt, practiced in the White House. Judo began to develop in the 1950s when it became required for the US Air Force.

The United States Judo Federation (USJF) started in 1952. The concentration of the USJF is on the east and west coasts.

She had worn only underwear last night, which she preferred to do in summer. She had put it on clean, so there was no need to change it. The genetically engineered microbes on everyone's skin ate everything that caused odour, so there was no need to shower more than every few days. Unfortunately, the organisms didn't live on clothes, so she had to submit her clothes to be washed. It was necessary that the organisms only lived on human skin, to ensure they could be controlled.

She walked across the room to the two tiered rack that she shared with her partner. She had a choice between an iridescent blue blouse and pants, or a dark purple camisole and skirt. She took the edge of the camisol lightly in her fingers, enjoying the luxurious feel of the fabric. She figured she could get at least another cycle out of it before she needed to trade up.

A large wardrobe was unnecessary when she could request anything, and the longer in advance she requested it, the cheaper it would be. More time meant that the Computer could take more factors into account. Perhaps, if someone relatively close by was done with the same thing, and it was still in good shape, it would be nearly free. There were some who chose to put their karma into having a large selection of clothing, and wearing something different every day. Jahliti considered such displays to be showy selfishness. There was no greater insult than to be called selfish. She preferred to put her karma into less showy things. She put on the dark purple camisole and skirt and turned. Seler was still out cold.

The bed dominated the room. Two nightstands flanked the bed, each with two columns of drawers, six in all. Jahliti mused about how the word \textit{nightstand} had changed from describing a primitive, easily knocked over table to such a massive piece. Above the nightstands were tall, narrow windows. The bed and nightstands were the only furniture in the room. The nightstands held everything they needed, from jewellery to underwear. There was no need for any other furniture or additional rooms.

She walked over to her nightstand and opened her jewellery drawer. Dozens of necklaces and bracelets in every hue twinkled back at her. Just a few thousand cycles ago these would've cost a fortune. Now, no one would steal them, that was, if The Computer were to allow someone to invade their home. With the replicators, the only real cost was the mass of the item. All the settings were made of a gold or titanium alloy, which didn't tarnish. These gems didn't wear out, so everyone could have a drawer full of them. She selected matching amethyst and diamond bracelets in a titanium setting. She put them on and added the matching choker.

I woke up in a hospital bed, both hands handcuffed to a rail on either side. Every muscle complained. I pulled on the cuffs to no avail. I was wearing a hospital gown and had an IV in my right hand. I couldn't see, smell, or feel anything that was mine. They had taken everything from me.

"Is this really necessary?!" I yelled out.

A few moments later, a man in scrubs, a mask, and a hair net appeared at the foot of my bed. His walk, posture, and glare radiated smugness and anger in equal measures. He had greying hair and piercing brown eyes, his only two visible features. "Why were you in the tomb?'' he challenged.

When in doubt, use the truth, I thought. "I was looking for the recipe."

"The fabled recipe of ambrosia,'' he completed, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"The same," I confirmed, my voice unwavering.

"You know, my team had to wear full hazmat suits to pull you out? We are really getting tired of you tomb raiders. Especially you young punks. Do you have any idea what you found instead?"

I didn't reply.

"The tomb is protected, of course," he spat. "Did you think those writings you blithely passed by were ghost stories intended to frighten lesser evolved humans?"

"Curses are for children," I tossed back confidently.

"That's how people understood disease back then. Your body is full of something that makes the Black Death seem like a case of the sniffles, and I'm sure that you will be surprised to learn that I'm not actually exaggerating. Thank God it's not airborne, or we would've left you in that tomb to die. I'd be surprised if you lasted until tomorrow morning, and I can tell you right now that it's not going to be an open casket. Unless you agree never to go back."

"What kind of doctor are you, making my treatment contingent on anything?"

"I'm not a doctor. The scrubs are only for protection, from you. The soft approach on you people hasn't worked, so the powers that be decided we needed to get heavy-handed. So I'm here to offer you a deal. If you agree never to go back, I'll give you the antidote. If I give you the antidote, and you go back in later, we're not going to drag your sorry ass out of there. We'll seal you in and let you find out just how real that curse is."

"But finding the recipe is the only thing giving my life meaning!"

"Find another hobby, or die. Either way, we're all getting tired of cleaning up the mess you people are making. Getting all of you out safely takes resources, time, and effort, and we're tired of footing the bill. If it was up to me, I'd let you all rot down there. A doctor could never lay it down like that, so they brought me in. If it's any consolation, my people have been in there. We've seen everything there is to see. We've done laser scanning. We've done ultrasounds of the walls. There are no hidden compartments, and there are no hidden switches. If the recipe was in there, it's long since been stolen, or more likely, crumbled to dust. There's nothing in there for you."

I thought long and hard. "Third option. You give me the antidote. You show me your findings, you show me your translations of the writings, you show me the rest of the stuff you mentioned and prove to me that there's nothing there, and then I don't go back."

The man in scrubs paused in thought for a long time. I was thinking of a way to break the silence when he muttered, "Deal."

Connor was playing ice hockey with his friends on a small pond behind David's backyard. Connor wasn't very good, and had been thinking about telling the others that he had too much homework when they had come by. His mom convinced him to go, telling him it would be good for him.

He knew the others could tell he wasn't very good, but he was still having fun, right up until he got hit in the face by the puck. Drawing on strength and courage he didn't realize he had, he forced himself not to cry, especially not in front of his friends. His mouth felt weird, and he put his hand inside. It came out covered in blood with two teeth. When the boys saw that, they screamed for David's parents. None of them could run with their skates on. Connor was too surprised to say anything.

After that moment, time was weird. It seemed like time had slowed, but David's mom, Mrs. Stanley, seemed to be by his side in a moment. He was sitting down, then his skates were off, then his shoes were on, and then he was being carried through David's house.

"What's your phone number, sweetie?" Mrs. Stanley asked.

He mumbled his number, with difficulty. He heard the distinct rat-a-tat-tat sound of a rotary phone being dialled, then Mr. Stanley talking to his mother, he guessed.

"We're going to the hospital right now. Your mom will be right behind us," Mrs. Stanley promised.

    trick
    memory
    aboard
    tiger
    pretend
    carrot
    appliance
    cage
    rings
    crow
    filthy
    explode

https://eventing.coursera.org/redirectSigned/eyJrZXkiOiJlbWFpbC5saW5rLm9wZW4iLCJ2YWx1ZSI6eyJ1cmwiOiJodHRwczovL3d3dy5jb3Vyc2VyYS5vcmcvbGVhcm4vbmFub3dyaW1vLWNoYXJhY3Rlci9ob21lL3dlbGNvbWU_dXRtX21lZGl1bT1lbWFpbCZ1dG1fc291cmNlPW90aGVyJnV0bV9jYW1wYWlnbj1vcGVuY291cnNlLndlbGNvbWUubmFub3dyaW1vLWNoYXJhY3Rlci5-b3BlbmNvdXJzZS53ZWxjb21lLl9wSFF2UkRGRWVlSWpBNllHZk5pUGcuIiwidHJhY2tpbmciOnsidXNlcklkIjozNTk0NjcxNCwidXNlckVtYWlsIjoiY2hyaXN0b3BoZXIubGVlLmV2YW5zQGdtYWlsLmNvbSIsIm5vdGlmaWNhdGlvblR5cGUiOiJvcGVuY291cnNlLndlbGNvbWUiLCJjYW1wYWlnbklkIjoib3BlbmNvdXJzZS53ZWxjb21lLl9wSFF2UkRGRWVlSWpBNllHZk5pUGcuIiwiY2FtcGFpZ25Hcm91cCI6Im9wZW5jb3Vyc2Uud2VsY29tZS5uYW5vd3JpbW8tY2hhcmFjdGVyLiIsImxpbmtzIjpbXX19LCJ1c2VySWQiOjM1OTQ2NzE0fQ.CvzOAQYNJ9nr3oekqL_pwMJDY6xNxM2YQ1iiE2PD86A

Eve sat at a table for two by herself in the busy diner. She had finished eating, and her second milkshake was running out. I'll probably need two hours at the gym to burn one of these off. So worth it.

As she nervously tried to look at Mark, two booths down, she closed her eyes to avoid giving herself away.

As she was contemplating ordering a third milkshake, the pledge finally arrived. Eve looked away as he started to scan the diner.

"Mark? Alpha Epsilon Epsilon Omega?"

Eve didn't hear a reply. Mark must have given the pledge a nod or gesture to sit.

"I'm Scott. Mark, right?"

"Uh huh."

"Why four letters?"

"Three was gettin' cramped. We decided t' branch out."

"Huh. I hear you guys are hard to join."

"Yup. Sure are."

"So what do I need to do?"

"First, ya gotta sing."

"Well, I did do a little singing in high school choir."

"Choir boy huh? Well never mind. Not like that. You need to walk up to Needless Hell and scream: we don't need no education."

"Needles Hall?"

"Good, not a total frosh then."

"I presume one of you needs to be there?"

"Yep. Next ya gotta place."

"Well, I did get first place in--"

"No, not like that. You need a place an order on Amazon for us totalling a grand or more. Our wish list is public."

"That seems excessive..."

"We're not exactly hurtin' for pledges. Up to you. I don't care."

"Alright, let's say I sing and place. I'm guessing there's more?"

"Yeah. Next, ya gotta show."

"Please tell me that it doesn't involve public exhibition?"

Mark laughed hard. "Nothin' like that. You gotta show at three of our public events. Be there."

"Oh, good. Why do I have the feeling there's more?"

"'Cause there is. Next, ya gotta give."

"I'm not even going to ... just tell me."

https://eventing.coursera.org/redirectSigned/eyJrZXkiOiJlbWFpbC5saW5rLm9wZW4iLCJ2YWx1ZSI6eyJ1cmwiOiJodHRwczovL3d3dy5jb3Vyc2VyYS5vcmcvbGVhcm4vbmFub3dyaW1vLWNoYXJhY3Rlci9ob21lL3dlbGNvbWU_dXRtX21lZGl1bT1lbWFpbCZ1dG1fc291cmNlPW90aGVyJnV0bV9jYW1wYWlnbj1vcGVuY291cnNlLndlbGNvbWUubmFub3dyaW1vLWNoYXJhY3Rlci5-b3BlbmNvdXJzZS53ZWxjb21lLl9wSFF2UkRGRWVlSWpBNllHZk5pUGcuIiwidHJhY2tpbmciOnsidXNlcklkIjozNTk0NjcxNCwidXNlckVtYWlsIjoiY2hyaXN0b3BoZXIubGVlLmV2YW5zQGdtYWlsLmNvbSIsIm5vdGlmaWNhdGlvblR5cGUiOiJvcGVuY291cnNlLndlbGNvbWUiLCJjYW1wYWlnbklkIjoib3BlbmNvdXJzZS53ZWxjb21lLl9wSFF2UkRGRWVlSWpBNllHZk5pUGcuIiwiY2FtcGFpZ25Hcm91cCI6Im9wZW5jb3Vyc2Uud2VsY29tZS5uYW5vd3JpbW8tY2hhcmFjdGVyLiIsImxpbmtzIjpbXX19LCJ1c2VySWQiOjM1OTQ2NzE0fQ.CvzOAQYNJ9nr3oekqL_pwMJDY6xNxM2YQ1iiE2PD86A

Terry lived on a crescent road in St. Thomas, Ontario, Canada. Long stretches of time passed between seeing one car and seeing the next one.

It was cold enough during the winter that the snow would pile high overhead, and hot enough during the summer that on some nights, sleeping was very uncomfortable. Spring was rainy, but every once in a while, there was a blizzard. Fall came with all the colour that nature offered, even if the sky was almost always grey.

Terry grew up in the 1980s, which is to say, without cell phones, the Internet, and in the days before air conditioning in homes was common. Terry only felt the lack of one of these, for no one knew how cell phones and the Internet would one day change the world. Perhaps, if no one knew of air conditioning, those long hot summer nights would've been just a bit more bearable.

Dad would set the biggest standing fan in the house at the back door, which was in the kitchen. He would prop the storm door open, leaving the house protected by the screen door overnight. On those long, hot nights, they opened only the bedroom windows in their split-level house. Dad insisted that blowing the air out would cause a low-pressure region in the house that would pull air in through all the open windows. Terry was never fully satisfied by this explanation, but they only had one big fan, it seemed fair, and Terry didn't have a better idea.

Terry's memory began with an ending. Dad's dad passed away when Terry was three. They lived near Terry's mom's family, so Terry considered his mom's dad to be Grandpa. Although Terry never saw his dad cry, Terry knew that Dad was different after. It was subtle, and Terry could never put it into words.

Terry thought that he needed to say something, but he didn't know what to say. He shot up the long staircase from the level of the house with the rec room, the laundry machines, and the office, up to the main level with the kitchen, the living room, the dining room, and the half bath. Mom wasn't there, so Terry ran up the five steps to the upper level and found Mom cleaning in the full bath upstairs. Not sure whether to interrupt, Terry stood until she looked up.

"Dad is so sad. What can I say?" Terry asked.

Mom smiled. "Tell him you're really sorry his Dad passed away."

Terry ran down two flights of stairs, finding Dad on his way from the office through the laundry room.

"I'm really sorry your Dad passed away."

Dad's words were, "Thanks Terry," but even at three, Terry knew that the words Terry had said meant something to Dad.

\namedvignette{Lasalla's Residence, Unknown Planet, Unknown Time} Enough of \KTNeh's strength had returned that he was able to walk on his own, but he was still taking shaky steps. He had had breakfast and lunch, and was lying on the unoccupied couch simply conserving his strength. His suit was still on the other couch. What had seen haunted him. He was desperate to find out what had happened, but could do nothing. He heard a knock on the door, and he heard a conversation between Lasalla and a man whose voice he didn't recognize.

Lasalla and the man entered the common room. They were both nervous.

``I am Tebikan,'' Tebikan said in Common.

\KTNeh's eyes went wide. \textit{So the other person I talked to finally came through. Thank \TKSa.}

``I am \KTNeh.''

``My Common is a little rough. Please have mercy.''

``It sounds more than good enough to me.''

Tebikan nodded to Lasalla, and they both relaxed visibly.

``Why have you come?'' Tebikan asked.

``A brash decision. I leaped without looking. But it might have saved my life.''

Tebikan's eyebrows rose. He translated for Lasalla, and her eyebrows also rose.

``I have a video of what happened. It was just before I left through my homeworld's gate. The Fevellan must have destroyed it.''

Tebikan stared. ``I only caught half of that, and still I got a chill. The man who asked for me said something about an attack. The Fevellan are a race?''

``Yes. We had an uneasy truce with them. They attacked our gate without provocation or warning.''

``What is `video'?''

``A series of pictures. Images. A record of what happened.''

``Oh yes, of course. I didn't know the word. How did you get these pictures of the gate being destroyed, and then leave by the gate?''

``I was in the gate when they attacked.''

Tebikan uttered a stream of words. Lasalla winced. \KTNeh assumed it was profanity or vulgarity.

``The other ships not only destroyed the gate, but with you \textit{inside}?'' Tabikan confirmed.

\KTNeh nodded grimly.

``What's the gate ID?'' Tebikan breathed.

``Gate ID 36.''

Tebikan's eyes went wide. ``That must be on the other side of \ldots''

``It is.''

Tebikan translated everything he had heard so far. Lasalla screamed. A younger girl and an older woman came running. \KTNehs recognized them from yesterday, or perhaps earlier. They were probably Lasalla's family. The others must have been working outside or elsewhere in the village.

Lasalla pointed to \KTNehs and her words came out in a rush. She didn't stop for air until she was done. The older woman gasped and covered her mouth, and the younger girl started crying. The older woman moved to console the little girl.

``Do not worry,'' Tebikan reassured. ``I doubt they have ever been in twisted space, but everyone knows of gate travel and its dangers from the old stories. They are not scared of you. At least, no more than they were already.''

\KTNeh barked a laugh. ``Are these people her mother and sister?''

Tebikan conferred with Lasalla. ``Yes.''

``You said you have proof of the gate attack?''

``On my ship, yes.''

``Do you think you are strong enough to make it?''

``Time to find out,'' \KTNehs muttered.

Tebikan once again translated for Lasalla. Then he said, ``We will go to your ship and see the proof.'' He repeated his last line for the others, presumably.

Lasalla's mother and sister left before they could be introduced.

``Please ask Lasalla where my helmet is,'' \KTNehs asked.

Tebikan translated, and Lasalla pulled his helmet out of a small cabinet in the room that was not much bigger than his helmet. She brought it over to him, and he looked it over. It was not damaged, but he didn't need to look to know that it had no charge left.

With more courage than he felt, \KTNehs entreated, ``Let's go.''

\namedvignette{About Ten Minutes Later} People were still milling around the ship when \KTNeh, Tebikan, and Lasalla arrived. Several of those around the ship looked at the glossy black helmet in \KTNeh's hands, then looked at the glossy black ship. \KTNehs never had to ask anyone to give him room.

He walked over to one of the retracted legs and pressed a button. A keypad came to life, and he pressed a sequence of buttons. The ramp descended noisily, and the surrounding people backed away even further.

\KTNehs turned to Tebikan. ``There isn't much room up there. I will need a minute to connect the helmet to a power source and sit down, and then I will call you.''

Tebikan nodded and relayed the message to Lasalla.

It took no time at all for \KTNehs to get ready. ``Verify mic,'' he told the computer.

``Microphone verified, \KTNehs recognized,'' the computer replied with its slightly off putting delivery.

``Check current power.''

``Nuclear cell 1, 81\% capacity. Nuclear cell 2, 86\% capacity.''

``Damage report.''

``Structural integrity 97\%. All components nominal.''

\textit{Thank \TKSa.} ``Enable console.''

The previously black console lit up with colour. He pressed and held a button on the console. It felt odd: he had only ever touched it with gloves on.

``Come in,'' he said through the cockpit speakers. He let the button go.

Tebikan and Lasalla crowded in behind him. The video he had made played again, and he realized he had told the computer to play it if anyone came on board. He almost stopped it, but decided not to.

The video ended and neither of the others said anything. He pressed a few buttons on the console to cancel playback of the video in the future.

\KTNehs showed them the video in slow motion several times, alternating between talking to the computer and talking through the cabin speakers with the buttons on the console.

``Show me the best picture you have of the ships,'' Tebikan asked.

K'T'Neh jogged through the video and found one.

``Do you have a clean picture of what that ship looks like?'' Tebikan asked.

\KTNehs held the button to send his voice to both the computer and the cabin. ``Display Fevellan frigate, inset bottom right.''

The computer inset a picture as requested on top of the video frame.

``Are you sure it's the Fevellan?'' Tebikan asked.

``Yes,'' K'T'Neh replied dangerously.

``Could another race have stolen these ships?''

``Steal a Fevellan \textit{frigate}? They probably have a crew of a hundred.'' He laughed. ``They would rather destroy the ship, killing everyone on board, rather than let us get their technology. Unheard of.''

``Did you not steal this vessel?''

``That's different. I'm a pilot. I was already in control of the ship. I was supposed to be in control. I just changed the gate address.''

``Destroying a gate is already unheard of. Is there any way to make one vessel look like another?''

``I have never heard of such a thing,'' \KTNehs dismissed.

``Have you had dealings with the Fevellan before?''

``It started with the unprovoked destruction of one of our border worlds. They fought tooth and claw for it. Virtually everyone on that world perished. Eventually, we decided that we would let them have the world, even though that meant they had a foothold on our border. They dug in, protected it like crazy, then nothing.

``No attacks from either side in 25 standard years. We've never had them return any communication, not once, and we got nothing from their radio transmissions amongst their ships.''

``No communication ever? Then Fevellan is your name for them?''

``Yes.''

Tebikan translated for Lasalla. It took quite a while. At the end, Lasalla spoke only a single word, slowly and full of venom.

``Fevellan \ldots''

A curse that vile didn't belong in a mouth that young, but neither he nor Tebikan said anything about it.

\KTNehs directed his voice into the cabin. ``I need a power cell and charge cable from this ship so I can charge my suit and move it off the couch. I'm not sure I'm strong enough yet to carry one.''

``How heavy is it?''

``About twenty kilograms.''

``Sorry, I'm not good with off--world units. May I try?''

``Please.''

\KTNehs disconnected the helmet from the ship and directed Tebikan to a panel.

Less than five minutes later, the three of them had disembarked, the ramp was closed, and they had crossed the street. They had the power cell and charge cable. \KTNehs took one final glance back at the ship just before going in the house. There were a lot of people still surrounding the ship, but they were giving it a wide berth. That night, Tebikan stayed for supper and all of Lasalla's family was home.

Tebikan helped them all to introduce themselves. \KTNehs met Lasalla's mother, father, brother, and sister.

``\KTNehs, please leave your questions to the end of the meal. If I translate I won't eat a morsel.'' Tebikan winked.

K'T'Neh smiled and nodded. He was a little disappointed, but he agreed that it would be necessary.

Tebikan and Lasalla's family all said something in turn. Some repeated one of the others. Then they all said a word or short phrase together. They all grabbed a bowl of some type of food and started serving themselves. Over the meal, he tried several of the offerings, and found many to his liking.

After supper, \KTNehs offered to work around the house to pay them back for the room and board. After hearing the translation, Lasalla's father, Benhu, smiled and replied.

Tebikan translated, ``That's very kind of you, but it's not necessary. You must go at once and spread the news.''

``To who? I jumped here with no one here to receive me. Had I sent a public message to the gate, no one would have believed me.''

Tebikan repeated what K'T'Neh had said, but Tebikan was the one to reply. ``I will give you directions to the prelate of this region, who will verify your story and can send a signed message through the gate network. I will cover your transit cost to the target gate. It will be about 20 standard minutes in hyperspace. When the prelate verifies your story, he will refund me.''

Tebikan translated what he had just said. The others all nodded.

``That is very generous,'' \KTNehs replied, voice full of wonder.

``I am a merchant, and travel the gates frequently. It's no big deal for me,'' Tebikan said in both languages.

``That's how you know Common, and why it took a few days for you to get here.''

``Yes.''

Tebikan asked the others something, and they all nodded.

``There is no time to lose. You should leave immediately. The others all agreed.'' Tebikan's tone was beseeching.

``My suit needs enough charge for me to put it on and walk back to the ship.''

``How long will that take?'' Tebikan's tone was more curious than annoyed.

``I don't know. I've never done it before. It's going to be extremely uncomfortable putting it on by myself. It's bad enough doing it with help.''

\namedvignette{One Hour Later} \KTNehs plugged his suit into the ship and put the power cell back to recharge. He also connected the thick flexible pipe that would handle the bio--waste that had been accumulating in his suit from when he was still in it before. Luckily, the pipe was opaque: he didn't relish the idea of seeing the contents of the pipe, even accidentally. When he was ready, he used the speakers to call up Tebikan and Lasalla to take a spot behind him.

Tebikan gave K'T'Neh the directions to the prelate and provided a one time code for the gate to cover his travel costs. \KTNehs checked the HUD in his helmet and thought the suit's current charge would be enough to say goodbye. He disconnected the power cord from the suit and ushered Tebikan and Lasalla to the bottom of the ramp.

K'T'Neh opened his visor and said goodbye to Lasalla's family and Tebikan. A large crowd had gathered.

Through Tebikan, Benhu said, ``You are always welcome here, but next time, get permission.'' Benhu smiled.

``If I get home, my parents will probably ground me for life.''

After the translation, Benhu laughed. He didn't realize it wasn't a joke. He held a paper bag out, and \KTNehs took the bag with one hand. Inside there were several cans and a metal device. \KTNehs took the device out of the bag and looked it over. Benhu took it gently and pulled a can out of the bag with his other hand. He put them together.

``Oh, a can opener.''

Tebikan repeated that, Benhu nodded, and they put everything back in the bag.

\KTNehs turned to Tebikan. ``I wanted to ask about provisions, but I felt that I had already imposed too much. Thank you very much.''

Tebikan repeated his thanks to the others.

\KTNeh waved one last time and walked up the ramp. He sat in the pilot's seat and reconnected the power and data cords to his suit. He closed the visor. He was more than ready to go.

``Verify mic.'' he told the computer.

``Microphone verified, \KTNehs recognized.'' The computer's delivery was slightly off putting as usual.

``Retract ramp.''

He felt the rumble of the ramp retracting more than he heard it through the helmet.

``Done,'' the computer confirmed.

``Soft launch.'' \textit{I better be careful with so many people around.}

``Safety warning. One lifesign detected.''

``Where?''

``Left leg, strut three.''

``Open ramp.''

\KTNehs was a little disappointed, but the people probably didn't understand how much room he needed. He would simply need to tell them to give him more room. He hadn't made it as far as angry yet.

He disconnected the power and data cords from his suit and was walking down the ramp before it was on the ground.

It was sunset, and the people were arrayed on the side of the craft that still had the light. He checked behind strut three. Lasalla was hugging the strut, unseen until \KTNehs walked around it. \textit{She means to be a stowaway then. That's one thing I wish she hadn't have learned from me.} She had no sack or backpack, not even a briefcase. She was leaving with even less preparation than he had.

K'T'Neh was lucky that his visor was still down. His helmet swallowed his initial angry outburst. The struts folded for storage, and there was no place for her body in the hull. She would've been killed. She wouldn't have understood the words that the helmet kept back from her, but the tone would've been enough.

His anger was gone in a flash. He couldn't be angry at her for doing exactly what he did: jumping into the unknown, unprepared. He opened the visor, not wanting her last view of him to be all glossy black. They were out of view of all of the others. To call for Tebikan would be to reveal her presence, telling her family that she had tried to run away. He knew from his time here that a hug was something their two cultures shared. He opened his arms, careful that they wouldn't be seen on the other side of the strut.

Lasalla gave him a big hug. He was worried that it was too long and the others were going to get curious and come around, but she broke the hug. He motioned to her to walk a little distance away in a direction away from the others. With luck, the others would be focused entirely on his craft and wouldn't notice that she wasn't with them. She nodded.

He walked around the strut, gave another quick wave, went up the ramp, got seated, and connected the power and data cables to his suit.

``Verify mic.'' he told the computer.

``Microphone verified, \KTNehs recognized.''

``Retract ramp.''

He felt the rumble of the ramp again.

``Done,'' the computer confirmed.

``Soft launch.''

``Safety warning. One lifesign detected.''

\textit{Really? Seriously?? I'm not doing this again. I'm going to open up the external speakers and let her have \ldots}

``Warning cleared. Confirm.''

\textit{Thank \TKSa.} ``Confirm soft launch.''

``Soft launch in progress.''

The whine of the blades used for a soft launch went from a whisper to a noise that threatened to rattle his brain, but there was no way he was using jets to take off with so many people around. There were no further warnings from the computer, so the people must have stayed back.

``Display camera 5-3,'' he directed.

The display shifted, showing him the people on the ground, buffeted by the wind produced by the blades.

``Save image.''

``Done.''

``Display camera 5-2.''

He could make Lasalla out only by her clothing, and the fact that she was alone in the picture. ``Full optical magnification, area 3-2.''

Ilyia's image leapt into full view. She looked up with longing in her eyes, not trying to shield her face from the buffeting winds at all. A tear ran down her face.

``Save image.''

``Done.''

``Standard orbital launch for inhabited world. Save return vector.''

``Launch in progress. Calculating.''

``Standard display.''

The display shifted again. He noticed the absence of one particular symbol on the display. This planet didn't have compatible GPS signals. \textit{It'll require several images at different heights for the computer to be able to find this location again without GPS. Then we'll need to circle the planet.}

Ten minutes later, he was in orbit.

``Distance to closest gate.''

``3.1 AU,'' the computer replied.

\KTNehs pressed a few buttons on the console to send a message to the gate to reserve a slot and provide the one time code that Tebikan had given him to pay for passage. The message would travel at light speed and arrive before him.

``Accelerate to 5 G and hold until 20\% light, then continue acceleration at 2 G.''

``Acceleration in progress.''

Once the ship decelerated to 2 G, he launched a training simulator to take his mind off the boredom. Before he knew it he was at the gate. It was too soon.

He tried to tell himself that no one here had heard the information he had brought. A gate miss was still unthinkable. It had happened on the other side of known space. None of these thoughts calmed his fear.

He opened his mouth to ask the computer to enter the gate, but the words died in his throat. It took him three tries.

TODO

\namedvignette{Prelate Trimowe's Homeworld} He entered high orbit around the fourth planet in the system, the one that Tebikan had described. The display lit up. The planet was transmitting a wealth of data: GPS, landing patterns, no--fly zones, as well as a planetary authority for general inquiries.

He copied the co--ordinates from the note he had made when Tebikan had given him the information and pasted it into the navigation controller. The display showed him a location, and with his fast motion around the planet, it wasn't long before he got some basic information. It was in a major city. \textit{Thank T'K'Sa. It looks like I copied the co--ordinates down correctly. I suppose they still might be wrong. The co--ordinates aren't in the middle of the ocean or deep in impassable mountains or jungle anyway.}

``Verify landing,'' K'T'Neh said.

``Nearest allowed landing is 1.2 kilometres from the given co--ordinates.''

\textit{A bit of a walk, but I'm feeling a lot better.} ``Request clearance.''

``Clearance requires authorization. Channel open.''

\textit{Fetid boils! The clay--brained AI on this ship already opened the channel! I have to say something!} He mustered his courage. ``I am K'T'Neh. Tebikan sent me. I am here to see the prelate.''

There was a long pause. K'T'Neh opened his mouth to say something further.

``Clearance granted, the ship said. ``Landing in progress.

\textit{You could have told me you sent a message in advance, Tebikan.} K'T'Neh shook his head.

Ten minutes later, he landed on a pad. K'T'Neh checked his suit, and it was fully charged. It would be fine for a day and a half. He opened the ramp, left the ship, and instructed the ship to retract the ramp by using the panel on the strut. The ramp would retract on its own eventually without him there, but there was no reason to leave it to chance.

He took a look around. There were nine pads, and a few also had ships parked on them. Around him was the hustle and bustle of a decent sized city, with pedestrian, car, and ship traffic all trying to get from one place to another at whatever they thought was a reasonable speed. It seemed none were going whatever they thought was a reasonable speed. Even the ships seemed impatient, bunching up and then backing off.

He looked around, but all the buildings nearby were connected to the pads by walkways. He didn't know which way to go. He reached to his wrist display to connect his suit to the ship by radio, but he was stopped when he heard his name, or a reasonable approximation of it, anyway.

K'T'Neh looked up. A man was rushing toward him, wearing robes. He was out of breath.

``Are you Keteneh?'' the man asked in Common.

K'T'Neh opened his visor. ``Yes.''

``You are expected. Come. The man took a few breaths. ``I will take you to the prelate.

``The evidence is on my ship.''

``OK. A moment.''

After the man had caught his breath, he said, ``Are you able to read or write to this data card?''

K'T'Neh took the card and examined it closely. ``Probably.''

``Try. It has the prelate's public key stored on it. You can encrypt the video on your ship with the public key and then store the video on the card. Only he will be able to decrypt the data.''

``I don't think encryption will be necessary.''

The man was poleaxed.

``OK, if you feel that strongly about it, sure. What is your name?'' K'T'Neh asked.

``Bicken.''

``Pleased to meet you.''

``Likewise.''

In less than a minute, K'T'Neh and Bicken were on board K'T'Neh's craft. K'T'Neh confirmed that the data card was compatible with the onboard computer. K'T'Neh started encrypting the video.

``Do you know why I'm here to see the prelate?'' K'T'Neh asked.

Bicken looked down the ramp. K'T'Neh followed his gaze, having to sit up a little in his chair. K'T'Neh would recognize that look anywhere. Bicken was double--checking if he was being overheard.

``Why are you so worried?''

``Seriously??'' Bicken whispered in K'T'Neh's ear. ``What do you think would happen if people found out that gate travel wasn't safe anymore?''

``But that gate is over 4 billion light years away. It's on the other side of the gate network.''

``It doesn't matter. It's an urcrime.''

``I don't understand the word. Is that Common?''

``Probably not. That kind of act is a harbinger, the first of its kind. This news must be handled carefully.''

``Yeah, you're right.''

The computer beeped.

``OK, the encryption is done. Now we have to wait for it to copy,'' K'T'Neh said.

The time passed in uneasy silence. When the computer beeped, they both sighed in relief.

Two minutes later the ship was secure and K'T'Neh and Bicken were in the lobby of a large building. Bicken directed K'T'Neh to an elevator bay, and they quickly got an elevator. Bicken used a special key to allow him to activate the top button. The uneasy silence that had started on the ship continued.

It didn't take long to get to the reception desk on the top floor. \textit{That wasn't 1.2 kilometres. The co--ordinates must have been off after all.} Bicken said something K'T'Neh didn't recognize to the receptionist, she replied, and they were on their way again. As they walked, they saw three people with perturbed expressions leave an office. Bicken directed him inside the same office. As K'T'Neh passed through the door, he couldn't help but look over to the three, but they didn't look back.

The office was posh: tastefully expensive. It was designed to show wealth without being gaudy. There was a man behind the desk, and he stood. His robes made him look important. Bicken made the introductions, but not in Common. Bicken switched back to Common.

``I presume you already know that you're looking at Prelate Trimowe.''

``That was fairly obvious, yes,'' K'T'Neh deadpanned.

The prelate and Bicken laughed.

``Oh good, you understand Common,'' K'T'Neh said.

The prelate frowned. ``It will serve.''

K'T'Neh passed Bicken the data card, who passed it to the prelate. The prelate put it into a slot in his desk and sat down. Bicken and K'T'Neh sat in the chairs in front of the prelate's desk.

The prelate tapped on his desk and part of the desk changed. The desk was a display. K'T'Neh looked over the desk but he didn't see any seams. It was impressive. The prelate tapped a few more times and a progress bar appeared on both the desk and the wall behind Prelate Trimowe. At this rate it would take a minute or two.

``I presume that's your flight suit?'' The prelate asked K'T'Neh.

``Yes.''

``It's awfully strange for me to meet someone dressed in such a manner, but I understand necessity.''

``I have no other change of clothing.''

``It's also very unusual for me to meet someone with only one change of clothing. It verifies your story.''

K'T'Neh nodded. ``Do you have access to a program that will reconstruct the original images taken while being folded in space?''

``Better. I have booked time on a supercomputer that can reconstruct the images to near perfect precision.''

K'T'Neh's eyes went wide.

``You came to the right place.'' The prelate smiled.

The progress bar started over. ``I have the data copied and decrypted. Now let's see what we can get from deconvolving the images.''

K'T'Neh turned to Bicken. ``Was that Common?''

``Not sure. Did you get the gist?''

``Yes.''

The prelate smiled.

They spent another minute in silence, and then the prelate played back the processed video in slow motion. The prelate moved back to an image with the Fevellan frigates clearly firing on the gate.

The prelate looked straight into K'T'Neh's eyes. ``One more second, and you would have been dead.''

The prelate put his head in his hands and slumped in his chair, and K'T'Neh thought Bicken had begun to pray. The moment passed, and the two men recovered a little.

``There is one other thing I'm not clear on,'' the prelate began. ``Exactly why are you here? Why did you jump clear across the gate network with no provisions or money? You would have set the destination gate before knowing the gate was about to be attacked.''

``I came to the conclusion that I was being lied to. A conspiracy that spread even to sanitizing the books that I have been presented with. The fundamental principle underlying my society is a lie. The system is unfair. I had to know.''

``Know what?''

``The truth.''

``You left with insufficient rations, no money, not even a change of clothing.''

``Full rations or a change of clothing would have been noticed. I wouldn't have been able to leave. And I have no money. My needs were provided for, and if I wanted certain preallowed things then I requested them.''

``No. I was planning on using my ship to make the exotic matter.''

``How long would that take?''

``Depending on the sun or suns in this system, a few standard days to a week.''

``If you didn't have enough food to last the journey, then why jump all the way across known space?''

``I thought I could stretch it.''

``Why stretch it at all?''

K'T'Neh paused in thought. ``I must admit, it was an emotional decision. It was foolhardy and brazen. I cannot justify it. At the time, I had a deep need to be as far away from there as possible.''

The prelate nodded and then tapped on the desktop. A small ball on a stick rose out of the desk. When it stopped, he began a statement. K'T'Neh didn't catch any of it. The prelate tapped on the desktop again, and the ball, clearly a camera, retracted into the desk. He tapped several more times.

``I have just sent word to the local chairs of planetary affairs of this event, and included the original video and the recovered video that we just watched. I highlighted the frame I showed. It will be sent privately to 14 gate destinations. I have not received any word yet of any \ldots He struggled to get the next words out. ``Gate misses. He took a slow breath to recover. ``May God have mercy on us all.''

K'T'Neh had missed another word, but it was obvious in context. Clearly, T'K'Sa was known here in this culture with no gender or caste markers as God.

K'T'Neh addressed the prelate. ``I'm glad Tebikan got word to you.''

``I received word only seconds before you requested clearance. It's possible that your own ship carried the message automatically from your source gate.''

``Huh.''

``I will transfer the funds to his account as requested.''

``What do I do now?'' K'T'Neh asked.

``That depends on how far you dare to jump in the gate network,'' the prelate replied.

``How far have the Fevellan been seen?''

The prelate tapped a multitude of times on the desktop. ``I have access to records where they have been seen. Nowhere within over two billion light years. Do you have provisions?''

``I have some canned food. Enough for a few days.''

``Unfortunately I cannot help you if your ship is not in good repair.''

``It will be fine for a while longer.''

``I will send you to the regional head, a trip of half a billion light years. I will cover your passage. I will store the co--ordinates and an access code for landing on the data card. You may take the card with you.''

``Thank you.''

``I have also sent an encrypted message to our gate that is addressed to the regional head. Bicken will wait with you at your ship until I receive confirmation from the gate that the message has been received.

``Your ship will probably be the first to transmit the message on the other side. Wait for all the messages your ship automatically picks up from this gate to be sent on the other side. Your ship will automatically include the sender ID of your ship with the messages it sends. Wait in high orbit to be contacted.''

``I hope you realize that I already know most of that,'' K'T'Neh said carefully.

``Of course,'' the prelate replied affably. ``In my position, clarity is of the utmost importance. I never meant to imply that you are unaware of how your ship functions, or how messages travel through the gate network.''

K'T'Neh nodded, taking the words at face value. Before K'T'Neh knew it, he had said goodbye to Prelate Trimowe and Bicken and he was on his way again.

However long it took, it was too soon when he got to the gate. He stared at it. The computer beeped: there was a lot of traffic and he was about to hold up everyone else. Not trusting his voice this time, he tapped the console. The computer didn't respond aloud, but the gate loomed large in the display. He tapped a button to cut the comm connection to the computer, closed his eyes, and prayed aloud.

``Is there writing all over the walls?''

``Yes,'' Tebikan confirmed, as if it were perfectly normal.

``Why?''

``Do you have an expression, to make a house a home?''

\KTNehs thought hard. ``I don't think so, but I have an idea.''

``Paint is too expensive here. To make a place theirs, the children are encouraged to write. At first, the children write words or phrases they like. Then idioms that are particularly true to their life. As they get older, and taller, they might write poetry, or very short stories. Anyone can look back on their progress anytime they like.''

``It's \ldots\ strangely beautiful. Children writing on the wall would be \ldots\ strictly rebuked in my culture. Had I had my full strength when I woke up, I would've bolted.''

Tebikan nodded, but \KTNehs could see the man was unsure.

``You really do come from the other side, Tebikan breathed. ``I'm surprised there isn't \textit{more} culture shock.

\KTNehs didn't understand the term, but it made sense in context. ``I was told that we were all one race once. I was told there was no one out here, at the other end of known space. I knew that couldn't be true. I was told a lot of things.''

``Every gate is near at least one inhabited planet,'' Tebikan began.

\KTNehs knew Gate 237 wasn't exactly near an inhabited planet, but he didn't interrupt.

``There are over 3000 gates.''

``Do you know of the Fevellan?''

``No,'' Tebikan admitted.

``Are there multiple races? Groups? In a sense, nations?''

``Yes. The Cotari Hegemony, the Levessan Federation, and the Nexil Alliance are in this region of space. There has been peace among them for generations. When I go to your end of space, I typically provide my wares in a market, and so I don't know much about the people or politics there. It's the same for the other places I go in known space as well, I'm afraid.''

``Are there wars, or rumours of wars?''

``The region around gate 1256 is infamously unstable. There's no point in me going anywhere near there. Trade is lucrative enough elsewhere.''

``Who is in that region?''

Tebikan laughed. ``It seems that every time I leave twisted space, I find that a new group with a new name has claimed to have seized control.''

The ship beeped as it left twisted space, but the sole occupant was unconscious. A small portion of the console pulsed with light multiple times, but the pilot was still out cold. The ship contacted the jumpgate it had just exited, requesting the navigational data for this region of space.

The ship needed some air. The oxygen level was dangerously low, and could not be recycled any further. Using the incoming navigational data, the ship plotted a course to the nearest planet with breathable air, and engaged.

\namedvignette{Bemaylia} ``Ilyia!''

Ilyia looked up from her book about love and life elsewhere in the galaxy to find her mother in the doorway. The look on Mother's face indicated that Ilyia had missed the first few times her name had been called.

``Perhaps there's a dishwashing machine in that story of yours, but here in this part of Bemaylia, the dishes don't wash themselves.'' Mother's tone was annoyed, but slightly bemused.

Ilyia sighed and shoved a bookmark in her book, setting it on the nightstand. ``Alright.''

Ilyia got out of bed. There was barely enough room around the two single beds to open the dresser drawers. She walked out of the bedroom that she shared with her sister. Mother was already gone, no doubt on some other errand.

Ilyia walked down the stairs, through the more spacious common room and into the small kitchen. She grabbed a pail from the cupboard under the sink and walked outside. Their home's location was the envy of most. It was one of several on the other side of the road from the park. The park was large enough that twenty houses could've fit on it.

Ilyia crossed the well-packed dirt road to the park without looking. Had there been a car, the sound would've stuck out over the quiet countryside. She made a bee-line to the fountain, the only thing in the park other than grass. It grew knee deep and stopped. She was glad cutting the grass wasn't on anyone's to do list, especially hers.

She continued mechanically, her thoughts light years away. Again, she wondered whether her stories were fiction or non--fiction, and eventually decided on both: based on a true story.

Everyone knew that all intelligent life came from the original civilization on Earth and had spread across a part of the galaxy. Like Earth of old, they didn't think of themselves as one people, and war flared up from time to time. There was a difference between knowing and seeing. She had not seen. Fiction or non--fiction?

The sound of the water pouring from the pail into the sink brought her back to the here and now. She berated herself for not paying attention on the way back. She wondered for the millionth time why her ancestors had bothered to settle on this planet, with its meagre resources. It seemed breathable air was good enough for them.

A sound interrupted her thoughts, a strange, unnatural sound comprised of a hum, a whine, and a rush of air. The sound was quiet at first. She realized that she had put soap in the water and had washed and rinsed a few of the dishes.

The sound grew louder. She had never heard anything like it. Initially frightened, she grew more and more curious. Eventually, her curiosity won over, and she ran from the house.

A small shiny black craft was descending from the sky. She followed its trajectory. It looked like it was going to land in the park. It was sleek and shiny like the ships in her stories, but the glossy black was new. The lack of ornamentation troubled her, like an ancient sailing vessel flying no flag.

The craft resembled a perfect sphere that had sprouted an X. As it got closer, she could see that all the angles were right angles, so she decided instead that it was a cross turned 45\degree. She was first in line when the craft landed, her home's enviable position giving her an edge over the others. Two smaller legs opened from each of the two lower arms of the craft.

The craft landed, and quieted. Then, nothing happened. A large crowd of children had formed. Stubbornly, nothing continued to happen, as Ilyia shifted her weight from foot to foot in nervous excitement. She looked around. A few parents had arrived. They were more concerned than excited.

Ilyia was just about to walk over to inspect one of the legs when a ramp started to descend. Everyone moved back without a word.

After all that, nothing happened again.

``Ilyia! Get back!'' Mother called out.

Ilyia looked for Father, but he wasn't there. No doubt he was still working in the fields. Had he seen or heard the craft, he would've immediately dismissed it as someone else's problem and continued working.

Mother moved through the children like a fish through water and was by her side. ``Get away from there!''

``What if he's hurt? We have to help!''

``You assume it's a \textit{he}? Mother chided, amused. ``A man in need of rescue that the heroine can take care of like one of your stories?

``We are all human. If someone is injured, and we can help, we must help. It is our way. It is The Way.''

The parents and children pondered this statement in silence.

While they were lost in thought, Ilyia spun and ran up the ramp. The ship seemed smaller on the inside. The tight space of the craft reminded her of her bedroom: only enough, no more. There was a chair, a console, and a view screen. The view screen was black, and the chair blocked most of the view of the console. The shoulders of a pilot were visible.

The view screen burst to life. Ilyia let out a short scream. A person wearing a glossy black suit with a helmet in a craft just like this one appeared on the display.

The figure on the display pressed two buttons on the chest of his suit. They were close to the collar. One was red, and one was yellow.

There was a hiss, and Ilyia jumped. The figure in the video took off the helmet. It was a man. He spoke clearly, precisely, and in no language she recognized. She strained her ears, trying to pick out whatever she could, but it was no use. The video cut to something else. She saw ships fire and destroy something. It looked important. The video spun. She looked away, but she still felt a pang of nausea. The view screen was the primary source of light. When the walls turned black, she looked back to the black view screen.

``Ilyia.''

Ilyia jumped, then turned. Mother was close behind her.

``I came up when you screamed.''

``I did not.''

``You did.''

``Did you hear what he said?!''

``Yes.''

``Did you understand?!''

``No. It was far speech. I will send for a translator with the morning post.''

``He's from the other side?'' Ilyia breathed.

``It would seem so.''

``It was him, in the video?''

``Most likely.''

Ilyia turned back to the chair and pilot. Before Mother could tell her no, she deftly pressed the red and yellow buttons near his collar.

``Ilyia!''

Ilyia never looked back. She took his helmet off. It was him, alright. She put her ear next to his nose and mouth. ``He's breathing. He's white and gaunt. He needs food.''

``Ilyia, those books of yours have \ldots Mother trailed off as she poked her head around the other side of the pilot. ``Never mind. You're right, Mother said, surprised. ``I suppose you were right before, as well. It is The Way. I will get the help of the other adults. We will move him to a couch in our common room and you can nurse him, as long as you keep to your other duties.''

Ilyia beamed.

Mother deadpanned, ``I can't believe it. He looks to have only a few years on you, and he is easy on the eyes. You must be the luckiest girl in the galaxy.''

Ilyia ignored Mother's tone and balled her fists to her chest in exaltation.

``It is too much. I don't think that you're the heroine of this story.''

Ilyia's mood dropped through the ground.

Goodbye, you say to the world as you launch the game and step through the monitor. You have crash landed on a world you call Not Home. You see green, brown, white, grey, and black, but there are two things you absolutely need to know before trying to make sense of anything else. The display on your arm tells you that your spacesuit is still in the correct number of pieces. There's one other key thing to be found in the information dense display on your arm: the air is close enough to breathable that your suit can do the rest.

You don't spare a single thought as to how you got here. You are too happy to be alive. Miraculously, you have survived, and even more miraculously, you aren't hurt.

Now, you look around. A twisted morass of every colour from sparkling white to midnight black surrounds you, except for the now absent view screen, through which you see a small patch of ground. It's boringly, but comfortingly, brown and green. Individual parts of the craft have been destroyed beyond all recognition. The components are a nauseating swirl. You want to see if any cargo made it in one piece, but you are driven to see this place first.

You carefully crawl through what used to be the view screen and start walking. The tiny boring blue lakes are the only things that aren't some kind of boring brown or boring green. There are no flowers worth the name. Boring is good. Boring means normal and immediately understandable. Pink ground with purple polka dots under a mauve sky would be pretty, but it would also mean a learning curve, and time is tight.

Curiously, trees stand in close groupings of isolated forests, as if curated, but there is no sign of intelligent life. Grass clumps together in curious blocky patterns. Somehow, neither the grass nor the trees managed to completely cover this place. You can find no reason for it. You wonder how so many different browns and greens can be so close together on the ground, yet so distinct. Something tugs at your mind that this landscape isn't real.

You continue walking. Iron ore and copper ore gleam atop the safe brown and green ground, impossible to miss as you pass. A coal patch sucks in the light. How you know what kind of ores these are is part of the dream, never explained. Accessible natural resources are good. They are yours for the taking. You will need them. You have a chance to return Home.

It's not the best place in space to crash, but it's not the worst. You walk back to the twisted wreckage. You half walk, half crawl into and through the twisted metal and plastic. The only things you can recover are an iron axe, a mining drill, and a gun with ten bullets. With these three things, and the natural resources of this planet, you will build everything you need. You have only a passing thought that if you hadn't found these things undamaged, you would've spent your life Not Home. You are saved, but it will not be easy.

Your long-distance communications equipment is slag. If you want to be rescued, you will need to let your people know where you are. You will need to build an industry, a massive factory to take you from the Stone Age to the Space Age.

You are civil engineer, civil planner, czar, Grand Poobah, chief, Prime Minister, or all of these. Give yourself whatever title you choose, for there are no other people here in this desolate, but boring, wasteland. The land is yours, but the trees and grass are alive. Life suggests creatures. Your activities will create pollution. You can limit it, but it is unavoidable. It will spread, and they will come for you, sooner or later. You cradle the cold steel of the gun in your hands. In time, you will need more than this humble weapon. No, it will definitely not be easy. But you have to try. Plans for this place form in your mind. Electricity with steam power will be your first milestone. You start to form a picture in your mind of where you will put it all.

A sound rockets you through time and space. You look up from the monitor. Your wife is watching you play Factorio, again. For a moment, the cluttered living room falls away. Her salt and pepper pixie cut is at once cute and mature. It suits her. In this moment, her amused face is your world. She gives you a knowing, understanding smile. Her clear blue eyes twinkle. She knows the power you wield on the other side of the monitor, the power to reshape a part of a world as you see fit, in order to get Home. She plays too. This understanding passes between you without words. In this moment, you are both content. Your wife lets you go, for now. There will be time to be together later.

You say goodbye again without a word. It is finally time to begin.

My grandma passed away yesterday, days after nearly all of her relatives in the London area (including me) celebrated her 92nd birthday.

I will be at home, and will be checking e-mail and Skype throughout the day.

I can't predict how I'll feel on Friday. I expect to be back in the office on Monday.

``When I asked him to study the galaxies that he could see from his own, and then moved us to another point in his universe, he again took us all the way back to his galaxy, and then to Jupiter --- the name of the planet I mentioned earlier. He is \textit{\gls{trellig}}. A one in a hundred find.

``The Kalivarians will be no less safe with Michael. Unfortunately, Kalivarian culture appears to be strongly xenophobic, and I'm concerned that the appearance of the Holarans will cause a rift.''

``You never did mention how the humans reacted to seeing the Holarans.''

``The humans have beloved animals on their world that they call \textit{cows}. The Holarans' skin pattern was reminiscent of these cows, and the Holarans had to fend off the humans. It was rather the opposite sort of situation than I expect would happen with the Kalivarians.''

``How curious. What of yourself?''

``The height difference apparently gives me a sort of natural cuteness to the humans. This cuteness appears to be accentuated by the way I walk on their planet. I have had to decline more than one intimate encounter.''

``The humans are \ldots\ xenophilic then?'' A'el'naria asked with a curious tone.

``It would appear so. Let's move on. I believe Michael will be a good fit to teach the Kalivarians. I have already given The Computer a massive leg up with English, as well as dropping off several loads of books. The Computer scanned them, and I returned them to Earth.

``I have other things to attend to. The Jaenerion and the Hiddlejaw are at it again. Has it been a hundred generations yet? They each have their own planet. They should just agree to leave each other alone. Honestly, I don't know why we bother with them.''

https://insidetheperimeter.ca/noethers-theorem-kindergarten-phd/

Book III: David gave Fiona a smooth landing. Tall yellow weeds were at their back, and a road covered in paving stones stretched out ahead of them. Stone buildings were along both sides of the street.

There were about a dozen people on the street. Those that were already facing David and Fiona seemed to take note of their presence, and then went back to what they were doing. Two stood out: one was very short, and one was tall. They were pointing at something that was on the outside of one of the buildings and talking.

The short one looked like a little girl, and was wearing something white and very frilly. Fiona thought she could see pink bows in the little girl's hair. The tall one was wearing a blue ballet outfit, as well as white cat ears and a white tail.

\textit{Cosplay? A cat girl ballerina? I don't know that character.} ``People cosplay here?'' Fiona asked.

David looked left, then looked back. ``That's Charlotte. She dresses like that every day.''

``She wears cat ears and a tail \textit{every day}?'' Fiona pressed.

``\textit{Wear} isn't the right verb. \textit{Has} would be more appropriate. She's \ldots\ not exactly human.''

``\textit{Cat girls are real?!}'' Fiona gasped.

``It was \ldots\ an accident. There are two cat girls that we know of, her, and her daughter.''

``\textit{There's an adorable little cat girl running around?!}'' Fiona squeaked.

``Not in a while, I'm afraid. She's full grown and six--four.\footnote{Charlotte's daughter is 193 cm tall.} He looked left again. ``Charlotte, quit pretending you can't hear and come meet the newbie.

\textit{How could anyone that far away hear over this wind? He didn't even raise his voice.}

Fiona gasped as Charlotte's ears actually perked up, then swivelled in their direction. Charlotte's tail curled up at the bottom.

\textit{Oh my God!} ``Who's that with Charlotte?'' Fiona asked.

``Celestina. Primary physician, primary councillor and therapist, master tailor, and the closest thing we have to a leader.''

Fiona laughed so hard she nearly doubled over. ``No, the little girl next to Charlotte.''

``Celestina is full grown, average height for her race, \textit{loves} to dress like a little girl \ldots\ and she has over a thousand years of memories.''

``\textit{No} \ldots\ \textit{way}!'' Fiona breathed.

``Way,'' David deadpanned.

``Whoa \ldots''

Celestina and Charlotte had nearly made it up to Fiona and David. Fiona was starting to see that Celestina had a more mature face than went with the outfit she was wearing. But Celestina couldn't divert her away from Charlotte for long.

``Wow, how tall are you, Charlotte?'' Fiona breathed.

``I'm five--ten. She wiggled her ears. ``Six--two with the ears. Six--\textit{four} with these heels.\footnote{Charlotte is 178 cm tall to the top of her head, 188 cm tall to the top of her ears, and 193 cm tall wearing heels.} Charlotte turned her ankle to show off her shoes.

``You're actually a cat girl,'' Fiona whispered.

Charlotte turned to the side and made her tail undulate.

Fiona gasped again. ``That is \textit{so} \ldots\ \textit{cool}, she effused. ``David said it was an accident?

Fiona immediately clapped her hands on her mouth. ``I'm sorry!'' she mumbled from behind her hands.

Charlotte giggled, her ears twitching, then turned back to face Fiona. ``It's OK. Long story.''

``David said you have a grown daughter,'' Fiona asked doubtfully.

Charlotte nodded.

``You look 25,'' Fiona replied, still doubtful.

Charlotte smiled. ``Thanks. I'm almost two hundred.''

``Alien DNA?'' Fiona rushed out.

``Nope. Nanites.''

``Tiny machines?''

``Yep.''

``How do I get some!'' Fiona nearly yelled, not in the tone of a question.

``Needle, Celestina broke in. ``Big one. We recommend people look away.

``Celestina?'' Fiona asked.

``That's me!'' Celestina bubbled, twisting and swishing her skirts.

``David said you have over a thousand years of memories.''

Celestina nodded.

``Why dress and act like you don't?'' Fiona asked, then clamped her hands on her mouth.

Charlotte and Celestina both smiled. The onslaught of cuteness between the two of them was making Fiona's head swim.

``Long story,'' David, Charlotte, and Celestina chorused.

``I thought I saw pink ribbons in your hair,'' Fiona commented.

Celestina spun.

\textit{Wow. They're even cuter than I thought. Four filmy pink bows, with a touch of glitter, at the top and bottom of both braids.}

``Do you \textit{always} dress like that?'' Fiona wondered aloud.

Celestina spun back to face Fiona, swishing her skirts and tossing her pigtails. ``Actually, I decided to dress older today. I put in silver barrettes instead of glitter ones,'' she elaborated matter--of--factly.

Fiona didn't take that comment at face value and turned slightly to Charlotte.

Charlotte nodded with an earnest expression.

Fiona turned to David, who nodded.

``Why do you usually dress like you're even \textit{younger}?'' Fiona whined.

All three of them spoke over top of each other.

``Because I want to,'' Celestina said matter--of--factly.

``Because she had a \textit{thousand--year--old childhood},'' Charlotte groaned.

``Because people wear what they want here,'' David added.

``Yeah, I noticed a couple of guys wearing dresses covered in floral accents,'' Fiona observed, confused.

``Probably on their way to, or from, Liffenhud. That's what everyone wears there, and you \textit{really} don't want to stick out \textit{there}.''

``\textit{Why?}'' Fiona drew out.

``There's a group of ne'er--do--wells making trouble for off--worlders. Bad for business, but the authorities just can't seem to get the upper hand,'' David informed.

``There's \textit{seriously} a place where a guy has to \textit{wear} a dress to \textit{not} be harassed?''

``You're having trouble with \textit{that}? David wondered aloud. ``That's got to be the \textit{least weird} weird thing I've brought up.

``Huh. Yeah, I guess.''

Fiona looked again at Charlotte's heels.

BREAK

“What an odd design. Where on Earth did you get them?” Their faces darkened. Fiona took a step back. “Uhm?” Derek offered, “You know, I really hope you’re not partial to that expression, ’cause I heard it got so old it was dead before the sun set on the first day of humans at The Village.” “Four and a half hours.” Celestina intoned. She shivered. Michael had been there, of course, though Fiona didn’t know about Michael yet. Fiona retraced their conversational steps. She started laughing. “Of course. You got them here.” She saw that a lot of people had shoes with a similar design. As she continued to laugh, the others joined in and the mood lightened.

BREAK

``Exactly how does someone \textit{accidentally} become a cat girl? You said `long story' before. \textit{Come on}! You've gotta give me \textit{something}!''

``I was doing a favour for The Computer and things didn’t quite go as planned,'' Charlotte answered without elaborating.

BREAK

“The Computer?” “We do a lot of business with a race called the Kalivarians. They built The Computer, and now it more or less runs their society. They still vote on the most important issues, but the smaller ones are dealt with by The Computer.” “You became a cat as a favour to The Computer? Why?” “Because the Kalivarians were running out of dirt.” Fiona looked at her incredulously. No one was laughing. What the hell? Fiona turned to David, “Is she for real? What the fuck?”

Book I: ``Did Hasheno tell them that they were ready to go on their own?'' Michael whispered, aiming to be just audible over the continuing argument.

``No.''

``Would they ask you to leave? That's not fair. To you \textit{or}me.''

``Such decisions are emotional ones, not rational ones. That doesn't automatically make them wrong. We are in the very early stages of a partnership. Tensions are high. People have long memories. If my presence is causing discomfort, then I should go. My people and I can afford to take a long view.''

``Would you teach me even if our group dissolves?''

As E'il'nahad opened his mouth to reply, the abandoned building became deathly quiet.

Book I: ``We must do something to remember them. To honour their memory.''

After a pause, Nathan offered, ``I'm Jewish. At the feast that marks the beginning of Passover, we leave an empty seat for the prophet Elijah, who is prophesied to arrive.''

As Michael opened his mouth to protest, he realized he was having trouble putting his feelings into words.

A series of excited voices came too quickly for Michael to tell who they were.

``We can bring extra chairs---''

``So we have a place for them---''

``To welcome them home---''

``Like leaving a light on---''

The others gave a murmur of agreement. Michael felt isolated.

Book I: ``Everybody seems to talk about a real \textit{connection} with someone. I \textit{definitely} didn't have it with her. We were too different. We wanted different things. We were going in different directions.''

Change karate to judo

There's a glottal stop --- a short break --- between the first two vowel sounds.

Take out `they made small talk'.

Michael asks why they didn't return the people to Earth

How is there air in the space between?

Book I

``The Beacon of Fate?'' Michael tried.

There was silence.

When Michael is introduced to The Protectorate: why Michael becomes a doctor- little brother

Michael & parents- high school sweetheart

There were four chairs, as always. One was empty, as always.

[merge]

``I never understood why you and Doris never made up,'' Dorothy started.

Michael sighed. ``That was two \textit{years} ago.''

``She was nice. You should call her.''

Michael didn't reply. He didn't think it would make a difference.

``You should pick up karate again.''

``Maybe after I'm done school. I need to focus on my studies. Mom, why are you always bugging me about everything? Can't we just eat?''

They ate in tense silence. It was worse than the conversation had been. Michael was barely old enough to remember when it had all gone wrong. His baby brother had gotten sick, and never got better. Michael had burned with a desperate need to do something. He had watched as his parents grew cold and distant, but he knew it wasn't his fault. He still burned with the need to stop the same thing from happening to some other child, to some other family.

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/govy/spacetime-coordinates-memento-acrylic-and-wood

Book II

\namedvignette{Celestina} ``Wait, \textit{seriously}? You're not going to get \textit{married}?!'' Celestina whined.

``Why?'' they chorused. Their shrugs made a perfect pair.

``I'm not going to be able to help you plan your \textit{wedding}?!'' Celestina whined in a rush.

``We don't have any official documents here,'' Derek commented.

``I'll prepare something. After you sign it we can put it in the library.''

``How do we decide who can officiate? So that it's fair?'' Derek asked.

``Why have a rule? It'll be up to the couple. If the couple chooses someone to officiate, and all parties agree, then that someone officiates.''

``Would \textit{you} marry us?'' Charlotte asked.

``I'd love to,'' Celestina effused.

``But \ldots\ we're making it all up. We have no traditions here. No customs. It's only official because we're \textit{making} it official,'' Derek proffered.