“I love the Catholic Church,” said Mary. “And I love being a Catholic. But I refuse to relinquish control of my conscience to anyone. Still…”

“Yes?”

“The current Pope is old and ailing. I don’t expect he will be around too much longer. His replacement may relax the rules.”

“Ah,” said Ponter.

They continued on. The highway had veered away from Georgian Bay. To their left and right were Canadian Shield outcroppings and stands of pine trees.

“Have you thought about the future?” asked Mary, after a time.

“I think about nothing else these days.”

“I mean our future,” said Mary.

“So do I.”

“I—please don’t be upset; but I think we should at least talk about this possibility: when it’s time for me to return home, maybe you could come back with me. You know: move permanently to my world.”

“Why?” asked Ponter.

“Well, here we could be together all the time, not just four days a month.”

“That is true,” said Ponter, “but…but I have a life in my world.” He raised a large hand. “I know you have a life here,” he said at once. “But I have Adikor.”

“Maybe…I don’t know…maybe Adikor could come with us.”

Ponter’s one continuous eyebrow rolled up his browridge. “And what about Adikor’s woman-mate, Lurt Fradlo? Should she come with us, too?”

“Well, she—”

“And Dab, Adikor’s son, who is to move in with him and me the year after next? And, of course, there is Lurt’s woman-mate, and her woman-mate’s man-mate, and their children. And my minor daughter, Megameg.”

Mary blew out air. “I know. I know. It’s impractical, but…”

“Yes?”

She took one hand off the wheel, and squeezed his thigh. “But I love you so much, Ponter. To be limited to seeing you just four days a month…”

“Adikor very much loves Lurt, and that is all he sees of her. I very much loved Klast, but that was all I saw of her.” His face was impassive. “It is our way.”

“I know. I was just thinking.”

“And there are other problems. Your cities smell horribly. I doubt I could take that permanently.”

“We could live out in the country. Somewhere away from the cities, away from the cars. Somewhere where the air is clean. It wouldn’t matter to me where we were, so long as we are together.”

“I cannot abandon my culture,” said Ponter. “Or my family.”

Mary sighed. “I know.”

Ponter blinked several times. “I wish…I wish I could suggest a solution that would make you happy.”

“It’s not just about me,” said Mary. “What would make you happy?”

“Me?” said Ponter. “I would be content if you were in Saldak Center each time Two became One.”

“That would be enough for you? Four days a month?”

“You must understand, Mare, that I have difficulty conceiving of anything more than that. Yes, we have spent long stretches of days together here in your world, but my heart aches for Adikor while I am here.”

Mary’s face must have suggested that Ponter had said something insensitive. “I am sorry, Mare,” he went on, “but you cannot be jealous of Adikor. People in my world have two mates, one of each sex. To be resentful of my intimacy with Adikor is inappropriate.”

“Inappropriate!” snapped Mary. But then she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “No, you’re right. I understand that—intellectually, at least. And I’m trying to come to terms with it emotionally.”

“For what it is worth, Adikor is very fond of you, Mare, and he wishes you nothing but happiness.” He paused. “Surely you wish him the same, no?”

Mary said nothing. The sun was low on the horizon. The car sped on.

“Mare? Surely you wish Adikor happiness, do you not?”

“What?” she replied. “Oh, of course. Of course I do.”

Mary and Ponter pulled into Reuben Montego’s driveway just before 7:00P.M. Louise and Reuben both drove Ford Explorers—clear evidence, Mary thought with a grin, that they were meant for each other. Louise’s was black and Reuben’s was maroon. Mary parked her car, and she and Ponter headed for the front door. Mary had to pass Louise’s car; she thought about feeling the hood, but had no doubt it had long since cooled off.

Reuben had a couple of acres of land in Lively, a small town outside of Sudbury. Mary quite liked his house, which was two stories tall, large, and modern. She rang the doorbell, and a moment later Reuben appeared, with Louise standing behind him.

“Mary!” exclaimed Reuben, gathering Mary into a hug. “And Ponter!” he said, once he’d released Mary, hugging him as well.

Reuben Montego was trim, thirty-five, and black, with a shaved head. He was wearing a sweat suit with the Toronto Blue Jays logo across its chest.

“Come in, come in,” said Reuben, ushering them out of the cool evening air into his home. Mary removed her shoes, but Ponter couldn’t—because he wasn’t wearing any. He had on Neanderthal pants, which flared out at the bottoms into built-in footwear.

“It is a quarantine reunion!” declared Ponter, appraising their little group. And indeed it was: the four of them had been locked in together for four days by the order of Health Canada when Ponter had fallen ill during his first visit.

“Indeed it is, my friend,” said Reuben, acknowledging Ponter’s comment. Mary looked around; she very much liked the furnishings—a smart mixture of Caribbean and Canadian, with built-in bookcases and dark wood everywhere. Reuben himself was a bit of a slob, but his ex-wife had obviously had great taste.

Mary found herself immediately relaxing in this place. Of course, it didn’t hurt that this was where she’d begun to fall in love with Ponter, or that, indeed, this had become her refuge, safely locked in, with RCMP officers outside, just two days after she’d been raped by Cornelius Ruskin on the campus of Toronto’s York University.

“It’s a bit late in the season for it,” said Reuben, “but I thought we’d try a barbecue.”

“Yes, please!” said Ponter, most enthusiastically.

Reuben laughed. “All right, then. Let me get to it.”

Louise Benoît was a vegetarian, but she didn’t mind eating with those who were enjoying meat—which was a good thing, because Ponter really enjoyed meat. Reuben had put three giant slabs of beef on the grill, while Louise had busied herself making a salad. Reuben kept coming in from the backyard, working with Louise on getting everything set. Mary watched them puttering about the kitchen, working together, touching each other affectionately now and again. The early days of Mary’s marriage to Colm had been like that; later, it had seemed as though they were always in each other’s way.

Mary and Ponter had offered to help, but Reuben had said none was necessary, and soon enough dinner was on the table, and the four of them sat down to eat. It stunned Mary that she’d known these people—three of the most important people in her life—for only three months. When worlds collide, things change fast.

Mary and Reuben were eating their steaks with knives and forks. Ponter was wearing recyclable dining gloves he’d brought with him, grasping his hunk of meat and tearing chunks off with his teeth.

“It’s been an amazing few months,” said Reuben, perhaps thinking the same thing Mary had been. “For all of us.”

Indeed it had been. Ponter Boddit had accidentally been transferred to this version of reality when a quantum-computing experiment he’d been performing went awry. Back on his version of Earth, Ponter’s man-mate, Adikor Huld, had been accused of murdering him and then disposing of the body. Adikor, plus Ponter’s elder daughter, Jasmel Ket, had managed to re-establish the interuniversal portal long enough to bring Ponter home—and to exonerate Adikor in the process.