But this thought, this notion, this wonderful, wonderful idea, would still be there in the morning, of that Mary was certain. It was too important to let slip away.

She hugged herself, nestled back into the cushions, and soon was asleep, very much at peace.

The next morning Christine gently woke Mary at the agreed upon time—two-thirds of the way through the tenth daytenth. Bandra’s Companion had been asked to wake her simultaneously, and did indeed seem to be doing so.

Mary smiled at Bandra. “Hey,” she said, reaching out to touch the Barast woman’s arm.

“Healthy day,” said Bandra. She blinked a few times, still waking up. “Let me get to work on breakfast.”

“Not yet,” said Mary. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

They were facing each other on the bed, only a short distance between them. “What?”

“When Two were last One,” said Mary, “Ponter and I had a talk about…about our future.”

Bandra evidently detected something in Mary’s tone. “Ah,” she said.

“You know we had some…some matters to work out.”

Bandra nodded.

“Ponter proposed a solution—or at least a partial solution.”

“I have been dreading this moment,” Bandra said softly.

“You knew that this situation could not last,” said Mary. “I…I can’t stay here forever.”

“Why not?” said Bandra, her voice plaintive.

“Just yesterday, Jock—my boss—was asking me when I’m coming home. And I do have to go back; I still have to complete the annulment of my marriage to Colm. Besides, I…”

“Yes?”

Mary moved the shoulder that she wasn’t leaning on. “I just can’t take it—being here, in this world, with Ponter so close and yet being unable to see him.”

Bandra closed her eyes. “So what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to return to my world,” said Mary.

“And that’s it? You’re leaving Ponter? You’re leaving me?”

“I’m not leaving Ponter,” said Mary. “I will come back here every month, when Two become One.”

“You will travel back and forth between worlds?”

“Yes. I will finish my contract at the Synergy Group, then try to get a job in Sudbury—that’s where the portal is located in my world. There’s a university there.”

“I see,” said Bandra, and Mary could hear the effort she was making to keep her tone even. “Well, I suppose that makes sense.”

Mary nodded.

“I will miss you, Mare. I will miss you greatly.”

Mary touched Bandra’s arm again. “This doesn’t have to be goodbye,” said Mary.

But Bandra shook her head. “I know what Two becoming One is like. Oh, for a few months, perhaps, you might make a token effort to see me briefly during each trip here, but you will really want to spend all your time with your man-mate.” Bandra raised a hand. “And I understand that. You have a good man, a fine human being. If I had the same…”

“You don’t need a man-mate,” said Mary. “No woman, on either side of the portal, does.”

Bandra’s voice was soft. “But I have a man-mate, so for me there is no alternative.”

Mary smiled. “A funny word, that: alternative.” She closed her eyes briefly, remembering. “I know, in your language, it is habadik. But unlike some words that only translate approximately, that one is an exact counterpart: the choice between two, and only two, possibilities. I have some biologist friends who would argue that the concept of alternatives is ingrained in us because of our body form: on the one hand, you could do this; on the other hand, you could do that. An articulate octopus might have no word for the condition of having only two choices.”

Bandra was staring at Mary. “What are you talking about?” she said at last, clearly exasperated.

“I’m talking about the fact that there are other possibilities for you.”

“I will do nothing to jeopardize my daughters’ ability to reproduce.”

“I know that,” said Mary. “Believe me, that’s the last thing I would want.”

“Then what?”

Mary pushed herself forward on the cushions, closing the distance between her and Bandra, and she kissed Bandra full on the lips. “Come with me,” said Mary, when she was done.

“What? ”

“Come with me, to the other side. To my world. To Sudbury.”

“How would that solve my problem?”

“You would stay in my world when Two become One. You would never have to see Harb again.”

“But my daughters…”

“Are just that: daughters. They will always live in the City Center. They will be safe from him.”

“But I would die if I could never see them again.”

“So come back when Two are separate. Come back when there is no chance of you seeing Harb. Come back and visit your daughters—and their children—as often as you wish.”

Bandra was clearly trying to take it all in. “You mean you and I would both commute between the two worlds, but we would each come back here at different times?”

“Exactly. I’d only come for visits when Two are One—and you’d only come for visits when they aren’t. Work schedules in Canada are five days on, two days off—we call the days off ‘weekends.’ You could come back for each weekend that didn’t happen to fall during Two becoming One.”

“Harb would be furious.”

“Who cares?”

“I would have to travel to the Rim in order to use the portal.”

“So just don’t ever do it alone. Make sure there’s no way he could approach you there.”

Bandra sounded dubious. “I…I suppose it might work.”

“It will,” said Mary firmly. “If he objected, or tried to see you at the wrong times of the month, the truth about him would come out. He may not care about what happens to you or to his daughters, but he doubtless doesn’t wish to be castrated himself.”

“You would do this for me?” said Bandra. “You would make a home with me in your world?”

Mary nodded and hugged her close.

“What would I do there?” asked Bandra.

“Teach, at Laurentian, with me. There’s not a university in my world that would turn down a chance to add a Neanderthal geologist to its faculty.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yes, indeed.”

“So we could live and work together in your world?”

“Yes.”

“But…but you told me that it was not the way of your people. Two women together…”

“It is not the way of most of my people,” said Mary. “But it is of some. And Ontario, where we’ll live, is one of the most understanding places in all my world about such things.”

“But…but would this make you happy?”

Mary smiled. “There are no perfect solutions. But this one comes close.”

Bandra was crying, but they were clearly tears of joy. “Thank you, Mary.”

“No,” said Mary. “Thank you. To you, and to Ponter.”

“Ponter I can understand, but me? Why?”

Mary hugged her again. “You both showed me new ways of being human. And for that, I’ll always be grateful.”

“Asshole!”

Jock knew the other driver couldn’t hear him—it was too cold a day for anyone to have their windows down—but he hated it when morons cut him off.

The traffic seemed intolerable today. Of course, Jock reflected, it was probably no worse than any other day driving here in Rochester, but everything seemed unbearable in comparison to the clean, idyllic beauty he’d seen on the other side.

“The other side.” Christ, his mother used to talk about heaven that way. “Things’ll be better on the other side.”

Jock didn’t believe in heaven—or hell, for that matter—but he couldn’t deny the reality of the Neanderthal world. Of course, it was pure dumb luck that they hadn’t made a mess of things. If real humans had noses like that, we probably wouldn’t have been willing to wallow in our own garbage, either.