"The whorls they gave?" She looked around her as she spoke, at the beamy brown boat in which we sat, and the broad blue sea, the blue sky dotted with clouds and white birds, and the distant shore; and I dared to hope, as I do still, that she was seeing them a little differently.

"Yes. The inhumi had effectively ruined their entire race, Vadsig. I don't mean that all of them were dead, but that the civilization they had built had failed them when the shock came. Many had left these whorls already, fleeing the inhumi but taking inhumi with them."

"Their blood to drink?" She shuddered, and there was nothing feigned about it. "Not I understand, mysire."

"I said that we could not see ourselves directly, Vadsig. We need mirrors for that. We cannot run away from ourselves, either."

I heard the clicking of Babbie's claws over the creaking of the rigging as I spoke, and looked around to see Jahlee's head emerging from the little hatch. I motioned for her to join us, and Vadsig whispered, "So beautiful she is!"

We three talked together then for an hour or more. But it will soon be too dark to write, and I smell supper. I will write about all that some other time, perhaps.

"You should not come in here, Olivine!" A glance showed that the tepid water was reassuringly obscured by suds and clouded with soap.

"You don't have to duck down like that… You don't have to duck down like that, Patera…"

He snorted. "Nor do you have to look in on me every five minutes. I'm not going to drown."

"I just wanted to tell you your new clothes are out… I just wanted to tell you your new clothes are out here."

The door shut softly, and he stood up. The towel, like everything else in the tiny room, was within easy reach. As he dried himself, he realized that his old clothing was gone, save for his shoes. She had taken his tunic, his trousers, his filthy stockings, and his underdrawers the first time she had opened the door, beyond a doubt; he had been too busy hiding to notice. His corn, the precious seed corn he had obtained so easily, had been in a trousers pocket; but presumably his old clothes were in the bedroom. He stepped out of the tub, took the plug from the drain, and sat on the necessary stool to dry his feet.

That done, he wrapped his loins in his towel. "Are you out there, Olivine?" He followed the words with three sharp raps on the door, but there was no reply. Cautiously, he opened it.

Clean drawers, black trousers, and a black tunic waited on the bed. Beside them lay what appeared to be an augur's black robe, neatly folded; his seed corn was on that, with a clean handkerchief, new stockings, his spectacles, two cards, and his newly found pen case, the whole surrounded by his prayer beads. His old clothes and the enameled lantern were nowhere to be seen. Sighing, he dressed.

The bedroom door opened as he was tying his shoes. "Can we go up now… Can we go up now, Patera?"

"You were watching me, weren't you, Olivine? You came in much too promptly."

She said nothing, shifting from one foot to the other; for the first time he realized that she herself had no shoes, only strips of the coarse cloth tied around her feet.

"Through the keyhole? That was very wrong of you."

Wordlessly, she showed him a chink in the paneling that separated the room in which they stood from the next.

"To see when I was finished? Was that it?"

"If you'd put them… If you'd put them on. And…"

"And what? I promise not to get angry with you." It was an easy promise to make when he knew that pity would overwhelm whatever anger he might feel.

"And I'd never seen a bio… And I'd never seen a bio man. Only… Only father."

"Who is not a bio. I didn't think so. You're a chem yourself, aren't you, Olivine?"

She nodded.

"Hold out your hands, please. I wish to examine them both, here at the window."

"I took our bread… I took our bread up? While you were… While you were washing?"

"And got me clean clothing. Also you disposed of my old ones, no doubt. You must have been very busy."

"You took a long… You took a long time."

"Perhaps I did." He glanced out, thinking to gauge the distance between the setting sun and horizon, then recalled that the Long Sun never set. How profoundly unnatural a sun that moved had seemed when they reached Blue!

"I'll wash them for… I'll wash them for you?"

"Thank you. Now hold out your hands as I asked. I will not ask again."

One hand was an assembly of blocks and rods, the otherapparently-living flesh. He said, "Since you spied on me while I was dressing, Olivine, it wouldn't be inappropriate for me to ask you to strip, now would it?"

She cowered.

"It would be fair, and it might even be an eminently just punishment for what you did; but I won't demand it. I only ask that you take off the cloth you've wrapped around your head and face. Do it, please. At once."

She did, and he embraced her for a time, feeling her deep sobs and stroking her smooth metal skull.

When ten minutes or more had passed, he said, "You look like your mother. Doesn't Hammerstone-doesn't your father-tell you that? Surely he must."

"Sometimes…"

He sat down upon the bed. "Do you imagine that you're so ugly, Olivine? You're not ugly to me, I assure you. Your mother is an old and dear friend. No one who resembled her as much as you do could ever seem ugly to me."

"I don't move… I don't move right."

Reluctantly, he nodded.

"I can't do what a woman… I can't do what a woman does. She went… She went away."

"She was captured by the Trivigauntis, Olivine, just as I was myself. When she got back here she went to Blue, because it was her duty to do so-the service she owed Great Pas. Do you understand?"

Slowly the shining metal head turned from side to side.

"I've been trying to remember what you were like when we left. You were still very small, however, and I'm afraid I didn't give you as much attention as I should."

"I didn't have a name… I didn't have a name yet. I couldn't talk… I couldn't talk, Patera."

Nor could she talk well now, he reflected. Hammerstone had been forced to construct her vocal apparatus alone, clearly, and the result had left something to be desired.

"Patera…"

He nodded. "You want me to go upstairs with you now, and to sacrifice for you and bless you, as Silk must have."

She nodded.

"For which you have dressed me in these clothes-clothes that I really should not have consented to wear, since I'm not entitled to them-and are fidgeting as we speak." He tried to recall whether he had ever seen a chem fidget before, and decided he had not. "But, Olivine, you're not going to divert me from my purpose. I'm going to the room I mentioned earlier, and you aren't coming with me. If its door is unlocked, I intend to stay there some time. Have you a pressing engagement?"

She was silent, and he was not sure she had understood. He added, "Another place to which you must go? Something else you have to do?"

She shook her head.

"Then you can wait, and you will have to. I-I'll try not to be too long."

She did not reply.

"When I come out, I'll sacrifice for you and give you my blessing, exactly as you wish. Then I would like to tell you about the errands that have brought me here and enlist your help, if you'll provide it." Unable to endure her silent scrutiny any longer, he turned away. "I'll come up to your floor and look for you, I promise."

Night waited outside the narrow window when he rose, dusted the knees of his new black trousers, and glanced around the room for the last time. Blowing out the candle, he opened the door and stepped out into the corridor again. It seemed empty at first, but as soon as he had closed the door behind him, a bit of grayish brown darkness detached itself from the shadows of another doorway and limped toward him. "You had a long wait," he said. "I'm sorry, Olivine."