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He never noticed Third and Constant rise to their feet. Third moved first. One moment he was making that incessant mumbling babble he used to communicate with his daemon, the next he fell silent and turned sharply towards the trees. Constant went similarly alert. Her ears swiveled to the tree line and her snout twitched at the air. When Third stood she followed his example. When he moved with a graceful swiftness that belied his age she walked a step behind him in rapt attendance.

They entered the dense undergrowth around the hut clearing. It was strange how the soft dirt pathways of World Zero remained clear of all debris but stray from them even half a foot and the ground became a thick tangle of roots and shoots and decaying leaves. (When the leaves fell from the perpetually green trees was anyone's guess.) The ground was slightly damp, squelching faintly beneath Third's feet. He had to pause and almost stumble across several twisting root barriers. The towering trees overhead required a complex lattice to bind them to the spongy earth.

In fact, what Third and Constant were walking on was not so much a planet as a vast interconnected network of roots grown into a planet. Though there were ponds and pools aplenty on World Zero, there were no seas or oceans. The entirety of the planet was like a giant mangrove grown on top of itself. Perhaps there had once been a solid ground, an actual earth of sand and stone, but it was hidden, only residual sediment drifting through the subarboreal water tunnels remaining.

The going was show and fairly arduous. Third clambered to the best of his skill, and while that skill was considerably more than it ought to have been, he was still a rather small and short little person and obstacles that a larger person could have stepped over with ease became monumental accomplishments. Twice he had to stop and help Constant over tall wall-like roots. The daemon bore this without complaint.

The bird and insect calls seemed to drop off into silence as they went along until suddenly the forest became very, very still, and Third stopped. He cast his gaze about the low branches and silvery trees. Constant cocked her head to the side a moment, then gave a sharp bark. A moment later she was on her feet, running three feet in front of Third and there stopping, yipping into the trees. "Arp! Arp! Arp arp arp!"

The source of her distress became quickly apparent as something that Third would later describe as a six-winged bat came floating through the trees. It followed a zigzag path clearly intended to bring it closer to Third and Constant without fully trusting them.

It was a natural tactic designed to tell the floating sphere of a creature whether or not the target was in fact a hostile creature. If it moved in a straight line and Third and Constant moved towards it, there was no telling if the motion was coincidental or not. By zigzagging, Third and Constant would have to change direction back and forth to approach, and it would be clear whether or not the creature was there intended target.

Or, if they remained where they were, the thing would learn nothing about them and they would learn more about it. If it wanted to see if they were predatory it was probably not a predator itself (though its behavior foretold the appearance of such hostile creatures) and since it had not turned back at the sound of Constant's barking or made any noise itself Third supposed it was probably deaf.

The thing came to a stop up in the air above Third and Constant well out of reach, perhaps twelve feet up in the air, its antennae waving slowly back and forth.

Third stared at it. Constant ceased in her yapping and panted in excitement, tongue lolling about her mouth. As they watched, the tips of the antennae opened up or inflated -- it was hard to tell at such a distance -- and looked somewhat like the eyestalks of a snail, except there were four of them. The six wings beat methodically against the air at a speed which seemed improbable for actual flight, much less hovering. Either the creature was feather-light or used some other means of levitation. Something in its furry body shifted and the thing opened what might have been a mouth or some method of spray or dart attack.

Third decided he'd had enough of this thing. Before it could potentially launch an assault he leaned down and picked up a handful of spongy earthstuffs. It came apart like cottage cheese in his hand. He flung it at the creature. It landed with a smack and knocked the creature back several feet in the air. The little wings went aflutter and the eyestalks/antennae retracted. The offending mouth disappeared from view. The thing then retreated as slowly and drunkenly as it had approached, meandering back and forth through the trees until it disappeared from view. Third thought it looked like a guilty child who has just been caught doing something bad and was now pretending nothing happened. Constant whimpered, perhaps disappointed she had not been allowed to catch and play with the creature.

They resumed their journey. The forest seemed to grow lighter up ahead. The trees began to thin out, the roots were less trouble, and even the ground seemed harder. Third noted the change with approval. That was how he had always wanted it. It looked more like a forest and less like a dank jungle now. Indeed, the vines Emperial frequently used for transport no longer grew here, and the leaves were lacy and intricate, not thick and waxy like back at the clearing. There was even a small brook, glistening and sparkling in the light filtering down from above. The light was strong enough here to cast a faint shadow and the leaves cast delicate patterns upon the ground.

Constant padded over towards the water's edge and sniffed at it. It was thin and clear, not the thick, viscous substance of the washing pool. Furthermore, it was very shallow, no more than two inches deep, as if the stream were only newly-formed, nothing like the quiet, still ponds near the clearing, those puddles that seemed as ancient as time itself.

Third squinted up at the unusual faint golden color of the light overhead. Through the leaves he could make out swirls of the pale yellow intermingled with the dark purples and blues of before. Where the two colors met there was a reddish tinge in some areas, a greyish tinge in others.

Onward they went, traveling along the stream's side until the empty spaces between the trees sprouted first grass and then rocks, until the rocks were rounded stones set into the ground and Third perceived an ancient, overgrown road.

Constant seemed unperturbed by these changes. She sniffed at the stones and the grass, marked a few, and moved along as a forward scout protecting her master. She hesitated briefly at the point where the scattered stones became a road, looked back at Third, and continued onto the worn and broken path. Third followed almost reluctantly, since the path took him away from the burgeoning stream.

There was a lot to do on either side of the path, new obstacles and sensations to experience, an occasional flutter in the trees that might have been a new creature, but the path was too solid, too determined a route to be ignored. It was more and more a road as they walked along it, its reddish stones worn grey in places with age. Surely it was not as old as the deep pools of water, but it was in its own time ancient. As they proceeded along the skies grew brighter and brighter still, more and more of the gold displacing the purple in the atmosphere above them. Eventually the purple disappeared completely and the gold brightened until it seemed a giant sun hanging overhead, filling the sky with its light.

The trees grew stranger still. Gone were the silver-skinned sentinels of Emperial's world, instead replaced by twig and rough bark and limbs of varying sizes and random placement. The succulent vegetation that crowded the jungle floor was no more. Instead grass and saplings pushed up from the earth.

The trees here were reminiscent of something Third could not quite remember , nothing like what he had learned to recognize on World Zero. These trees possessed none of the somber air of the giant jungle trees. They were somehow unmistakably trees and nothing more. There were no hidden secrets, no mysteries, no auras of intelligence or hidden networks of communication. Just trees, each a discrete unit, a single organism, surviving.

Finally the worn road ended in a circular well set into the ground. The rim was even with the road stones. It was as if there was merely a giant hole in the middle of the road. Inside the well was filled to within an inch of the rim with a black liquid. Third stepped up to the well's edge and peered into its inky depths. Only his reflection greeted him. The liquid was too thick in color to see through.

Constant hung back. While this well had many similarities to the pools around the clearing it was different in some intrinsic, almost inexplicable way. The jungle pools were silvery under the dusky sky but this well was black under the bright golden light that filtered through from overhead.

Third crouched down at the well's edge. It was foreboding, but he could intuit no danger from it. He took a broken piece of stone from the road and tossed it into the well. It landed with a heavy PLUNK and a small, thick splash. More like sludge than water in its consistency, really. It was almost like smooth, runny tar.

Third was still studying the well with careful eyes when sounds erupted from the woods around him. They were quiet at first, low and in the distance, guttural growls and moans and groans punctuated by low, bloodthirsty howls and hungry barks. They came from every direction and both Third and Constant sat upright with a start. Constant's ears flipped around in every direction and a low growl rumbled in her belly, threatening to emerge at any moment.

Third's face went quite pale, the color drained from his cheeks, and he stared off into the trees with wide eyes. Given the brightness of these woods and the spacing of the slender tree trunks it was possible to see a good deal farther than in the jungle. Strange dark shapes were moving in the distance, shadows darting back and forth amidst the trees, always too fast and too far to be caught by the naked eye.

But mere shadowy moans and growls in the distance were not enough to frighten Third. That alone he could have dealt with. It was the familiarity of the noises that frightened him, the idea that he had heard them once before in a dream, or more precisely, a nightmare.

Emotions did not rise easily to Third's mind. He could conjure them when he wished and was required to display them, but to be unable to control an emotion from taking over was deeply disturbing to him. He found himself unable to stop the fear rising from deep within his subconscious and was immediately horrified at its emergence. It was a reminder that regardless of his intelligence or discipline and bearing, he was still very much a small child on an alien world and no amount of self-control could make him cease being a small child, or cause him to be grown-up.

A shaky hand reached out and grabbed Constant by the tail. Were she any true dog she might have turned and bit him, but she was his daemon and that entailed a far deeper understanding than could be decently expressed in words. Constant quieted and turned to look at Third.

Third mumbled something at her in the almost-language they used for communication and she rumbled something back. His was worried, hers vaguely optimistic. Third found the exchange reassuring until a particularly loud howling scream from much closer shocked him into reaction and he tried to move backwards and recoil in fear, only there was no backwards. He went toppling back with a breathless yell into the well.

Down Third went like a stone. He landed on his back and had the briefest glimpse of the golden sky overhead before he closed his eyes tight shut. The impact caught him by surprise and he only managed a small gulping gasp for air before his head went under. He could still make out the muffled noises of Constant's anguished crying and he reached out madly with his hands.

He found the side of the well with his foot and tried to launch himself back up but it was as if the water in the well was the exact opposite of the water in Emperial's silvery pool. Instead of bobbing almost magnetically to the top he could feel himself being sucked irreversibly downwards. He tried to cry out at Constant, tell her to run and escape, but his mouth filled with blackness and he choked on it, suddenly coughing on what should have been air only wasn't.

And then the pain started. It was as if he could feel his heart being ripped out from his chest, like a giant creature had reached in and grabbed him and was twisting its claw around in his body. Third wanted to cry and scream but there was no air left with which to do so. He merely writhed in silent agony as every moment sent him further downwards and increased the pain tenfold. In his last act of courage he opened his eyes and looked up at the faint golden shimmer up above, his last sight of the incredible sky overhead.

Suddenly there was something dark in the middle of the gold and with anguished relief Third saw that it was Constant, not struggling to reach the top as he was but swimming straight down to join him. With her every stroke the pain grew lesser and Third stretched out his hands to receive her. The moment his fingers brushed her paws the pain was gone, only the dull throb of a memory in its place. Third took her by the paw and pulled her close, hugging her against his chest even as the last bit of gold disappeared from above them, crying invisible tears of joy and pain to know that she was here with him, and that he was about to die.

With the light gone it was impossible to know if he were still sinking. He felt suspended in the uneasy nothingness. He thought he should have drowned by now. There was definitely a lack of air in his lungs. He relaxed his eyes until he thought they were open, but it was too dark for him to tell. There was no way for him to tell how much time was passing. He felt as if he had fallen into a pocket of nonreality and ceased to exist but for the sensation of Constant's fur under his fingertips. Constant was his reminder that he was real, that this was real, wherever and whenever he was.

Finally it brightened in the direction he thought was below. He twisted in the water to see. Somewhere further down, something was glowing. It was the sort of glow one expected from a welcoming fire but without any of the warmth. They were drifting directly towards it as if being sucked in vortex. Third watched patiently as the darkness around him slowly illuminated with the color. Constant watched too.

Gradually he made out fuzzy smudges of color. It was as if he needed glasses to make out something in the distance, even though his eyes were fine, and as soon as the thought appeared in his head he saw something moving in the water and reached out for it. It was a pair of thick goggles. Nestling Constant in the space between his legs so she would not float away, he positioned the goggles over his eyes. They slipped over the back of his head as if the strap was too long, but once they were in place they fit snugly.

Third turned to look down again and this time he could make out a thousand million glowing gems spread out below him. With the goggles he could make out each gem in perfect clarity even though they were still over several dozen meters away. He could literally count the faces on each flawlessly cut stone. It was like seeing for the very first time. Third's mouth fell gently open without him realizing it.

As he fell through the piles of gems he could have reached out to take them by the handful but he was content to watch. As incredible as they were to watch, they would probably be disappointing to touch and hold and they did not interest Third even if he was impressed.

They drifted down through the piles of bright gems into dark hole. The light of the gems vanished just a little too quickly, but so smoothly the transition almost seemed natural. A new glow began further down, fairly close, and strengthening with each moment until shapes resolved themselves around Third. There was food of all kinds, everything Third could have dreamed for and many things he could not have, for he had never seen them before. All of it looked positively salivating. Again, he might have reached out to touch any of them, but he was not hungry.

They continued their descent into another dark hole and this time when the light arose once more he was surrounded by cages filled with many alien creatures. Each drifted pleasantly in its confines, looking at him with all manner of eyes, all seeming very friendly and some quite eager to play. Others regarded him with benign curiosity.

Third, however, did not reach out for any of them. He was not afraid of the creatures, he merely wanted to continue and was in some way worried that if he engaged the objects in any of these rooms, his journey would stop.

And then the creatures were gone, he was down another rabbit hole, and his journey did stop. He bounced lightly against a solid floor and came to a gentle rest. Suddenly it was as if everything was back to reality, time was passing, and he could stand, so he did. He kept Constant in his arms, just in case.

The room was totally bare, lit as the others were in a welcoming fashion but without warmth. The floor and walls were a hard dirt or congealed stone, bumpy like the walls of a limestone cave shaped by water, only without stalactites and stalagmites standing free.

The shape of the room was rather like a jug, the ceiling stretching up in the dark hole through which they had entered. Third knew without trying that it was impossible to swim back up and reclaim that hole, that once you were down you were down. It was a simple task to move around in here, but he had the impression of the dark water pressing in on him from above.

Third looked around the room, turning left and right until he saw the faint outline of a door. As he watched it seemed to cut itself away from the uneven surfaces around it and flatten out until it was a hard rectangle totally unlike the organic feel of the rest of the room. Something stirred on the door's surface. Sunken lines appeared and then arranged themselves into words.

Voicelessly, Third read the words: "The End of the World." How he knew what the door said was a faint mystery to him, but it was as if words and letters had always had meaning to him. He had known all along what they meant. They were somehow a part of him. At once he wished to have his slips of paper with him, the slips he had been clutching when first he came into being. (It was exactly that, he now realized, and wondered how he could have been so foolish as to think anything otherwise in the past.)

At once the paper was in his hand. He looked down at it totally without surprise and for the first time, read the words.



Third stared at the door. He felt as if he should open it, but there was no handle. Constant squirmed in his arms. Careful to keep her close, he reached out and ran his fingers along the door's smooth surface, so alien from the natural ribbing of the walls. What were to happen if he opened this door? Would the world end? Would he?

Third was still standing in the bare little room staring at the door to the End of the World and clutching his daemon and his paper scraps when he realized he was not alone. He turned abruptly and saw a figure faintly outlined against the bare wall. It was a girl. She smiled at him. It was difficult to see her. It was almost as if she wasn't quite there. Her lips moved but Third could not hear her. He stared at her, unmoving but for her lips, and finally approached.

Constant immediately squirmed in his arms, not wanting to approach. But Third leaned in close until he could just barely hear her faint whisper.

It was a song. "Ender doth flow down three fold oft wonder held!" she sang, so soft he had to strain to hear it even with his ear so close to her lips. "Droned wolf: the fold drown thee." The words repeated over and over, a mocking chant, and Third felt fear rise in his heart. It was if all the children were laughing at him, chanting at him.

And suddenly, they were. Ghastly faces seemed to emerge from the folds in the wall, their mouths open and grinning as they laughed out the words to the song. "The fold drown thee! The fold drown thee!"

Constant began to bark and yip at the faces, squirming and struggling in Third's arms. The little clouds of energy on her back seemed suddenly to grow in size as she wriggled free and into the space between Third and the lead figure. The realization that she was floating -- no, flying! -- in the liquid was momentarily distracting from the jarring chorus around them.

Without Constant in his arms, Third was free to crouch down on the floor, squeeze his eyes shut, and cover his ears with his hands. Even like this he felt as if he could still see and hear the chorus around him, pressing in, and the idea of their closing in around him was so strong he let out a muffled cry and opened his eyes, trying to scramble backwards to escape them.

They were gone. Constant floated in the water, her wings of energy stretched impossibly wide, looking in Third's direction but not at him. A white glow seemed to be spreading out from behind him. He turned and Emperial was there.

She was not the same as when he had last seen her. Her hair was longer and free and lighter in color, her glasses were gone, and she was dressed in a long white sarong dress decorated with silver filagree that exposed her breasts. Her gown and hair were flowing around her, moving as if buffeted by the ocean, only the water here was quite still. Vivid blue eyes looked down at him with all the warmth that these strangely-lit rooms of water lacked.

"Oh, Third," she said, kneeling down beside him. He thought she seemed taller and more graceful as she wrapped her arms around him and drew him up onto her lap. When she smiled at him it was like bathing in light. Constant came drifting down to rest at Emperial's feet. "Have I ever told you the story of the underworld?" She twisted her fingers together across Third's chest. He looked up at her mutely. He had not heard the story. So she began.

"Once upon a time there were two siblings, a man and a woman. The man was the god of the seasons and the woman was goddess of the Underworld. The man had a daughter who was so good and kind that all the creatures of the earth adored her.

"One day the woman was passing across the earth to collect the souls of the dead when she saw the girl sitting in a field. This girl was so bright that the woman decided to bring her down to the Underworld, which was very dark and full of terrible things. 'If I have this girl with me,' the woman thought to herself, 'the Underworld will become such a beautiful place that all the souls will rush down to enter it and never leave.' So she took the little girl by the hand and led her down, down into the depths of the Underworld.

"The little girl saw many wondrous things on her journey. First they came upon a hallways lined with torches and the woman said to the girl, 'This is the hall of souls, which we all walk when we die and when we are born again.' The hallway led to a giant chamber filled with sparkling gems and jewel. The woman said, 'These are all the riches of the Underworld which are at my disposal. Mankind may spend many eons digging through the earth for my wealth and never find treasures such as these.'

"Next they came upon a room full of thousands of cages filled with many creatures, monsters both vicious and tame. Said the woman, 'There are my pets, and so long as you are with me they will never hurt you and will be as tame as kittens and you may ride them and play with them as long as you like.' And to demonstrate this, the woman held up her hand in front of a manticore and the manticore bowed and let the little girl pet and kiss him.

"With the promise that the little girl could play with all the animals and treasures later, the woman led the little girl to her home where she had laid out a feast. But very few things grew in the Underworld and the little girl would not eat them. 'I do not like turnips and radishes and potatoes,' the little girl said. 'When I am with my father we eat only the freshest fruit picked straight from the tree, and the fields offer us their grains.'

"This made the woman angry, for she did not like to hear of the bounty in the world above. She cursed the child and locked her in a room where the little girl was sad and lonely and scared, with only the whispers of ghosts to comfort her.

"Meanwhile, the woman went to her gardens full of dead trees and bones and planted there a pomegranate seed. The soil in the underworld was very poor, but with all of her power the woman was able to coax the plant to grow until it produced a single, wrinkled fruit. She brought this fruit to the little girl and said, 'Here, I have brought you a pomegranate straight from the tree. Dry your tears and have something to eat.' The little girl took the pomegranate, for it was her favorite fruit, and ate several of the seeds. They were not as tasty as the ones up on earth, but after eating them she felt a little better and the woman then let her play with all the creatures and treasures of the underworld.

"Up on the earth, the little girl's father searched everywhere for her. He called out to the trees and the birds, 'Where is my daughter?' but they did not know. He cried to the animals and the fishes, but no one had seen his daughter. Finally he came upon a flower in the field where the little girl was taken. The flower told him how the woman had taken his daughter to the underworld. The man went immediately to see his sister.

"'Sister,' he said, 'you have taken my daughter to the underworld, a terrible and dark place. I demand that you return her.'

"The woman smiled. 'Very well, you may have her, but know that she has tasted of the food of the Underworld, and now some of this darkness and hatred of this place will forever be inside her. Once you have tasted of the fruit there is no going back.' And it was so. Wherever she went, no matter how much light the little girl tried to spread, there was always darkness, too, in the form of shadows, and suddenly those who saw her light were no longer awed by it but instead envied her for it. They taunted her and stole her light whenever they were able and replaced it with their own anger and fear until the little girl was a goddess no more."

Emperial's fingers ran through Third's hair and she leaned her head down until her breath tickled Third's scalp. "Sometimes we can create our own stories, and what we create becomes our reality. Tell me, Third, this place we are in, is this a story of your making or of mine?"

Third's mouth opened as if he might speak, but only a watery mumbling came out. However Emperial was talking, it was not possible for him. Third furrowed his brow in thought. A story of his own making? He turned his head and looked up at Emperial with big eyes.

Smiling, she tapped her finger against Third's nose. "If you don't like the story, you can always make a new one. It doesn't matter what the words are, it only matters what you make of them. Everyone is God."

Third wrinkled his nose at Emperial. He took her hand in his own and squeezed it to show he understood.

"Good boy," she said to him. "Now it's up to you to decide, Third. But remember, once you turn the page of the story, once you taste the fruit, there's no turning back. You can't erase what you know and you can't undo your actions. You can only move forward and sometimes that means leaving something behind."

Her gaze was steady upon him as she spoke, blue eyes searching the inscrutable darkness reflected in his face. Third patted her thigh and he half-slid to the floor, half allowed her to let him down with a gentle hand.

When he looked upon the room now it was with a newfound appreciation and understanding. These weren't just walls, they were his walls, and the things around them were familiar from his dreams. Yes, he had been here before, and he had been through the door as well. The door was there for him to use if he wanted and on the other side of that door was a whole other world, an amazingly wondrous world, a world all his own just as World Zero was Emperial's.

Even as the handle appeared on the door Third realized what the words inscribed there meant. The End of the World was not his own destruction. It was not an end to the half-remembered nightmares that chased him from his sleep, it was not a chance at everlasting peace. It was merely an end to what he was currently experiencing: this world, this life.

Seated, Emperial made no move to offer Third any advice on his choice. She watched him think with careful patience, a luxury she knew she did not have but was willing to pretend she did for Third's sake.

Third looked up at the darkness filling the mouth of the room. Constant bounced through the water around him, her wings shifting and filling out. Third reached a hand around to his own shoulder where he could just feel the disturbance of his own wings tickle his fingers. He had never really thought about them before since there had been no reason to. It was almost wrong to call them wings, they were more like founts of energy and normally so inactive barely a trickle of anything emerged. Judging by Constant's soaring bounds it was something within Third's control.

Third turned to Emperial, releasing the founts at his back, and said, "I'm ready to go home."

Without even a blink of surprise Emperial smiled. "I can't go with you."

It dawned upon Third that this time he had actually spoken, a sort of watery echo of a voice but a voice nonetheless. Now that he knew he could he was reluctant to repeat the feat. He stared at Emperial until she explained, "The mere fact that you could create this is indicative of a dimensional matrix problem. Since World Zero is my dimensional matrix, there's no point in my leaving."

Third stared at her, worry starting to crease his features for the first time in his current life.

Emperial rose from her pedestal, gown rippling out behind her, and knelt beside Third. She took his face in her hands. "I love you so much. I can't begin to tell you. If there were any way I could go with you, I would. But I can't. I have to stay here and make sure that you get out alive. I'm so sorry, Third. I never wanted it to happen like this. Promise me you'll do something for me."

In the water, it was impossible to tell if she was crying, but as he gazed up at her in utter awe he thought he tasted salt. He would do it, of course.

"I want you to tell the first person you meet outside World Zero: 'Code Omega.' Can you do that?"

Third nodded. "Code Omega," he repeated. Emperial's hand fell away from his face.

"Now go. There isn't much time. Remember I love you, I'll be with you always." And with a final sad smile, she took a step back.

It took a moment for Third's shock to clear. Constant came floating and leaping in front of him, and touching gently against the ground she propelled herself up into the water above Third's head, her wings of energy buoying her upwards. Third followed her with his eyes and then followed, feeling the energy at his back grip the water and push him towards where he wanted to go. Only when he was nearest to the darkness did he look down again at Emperial. His tiny hand uncurled into wave as she grew smaller and smaller, smiling up at him benignly until the darkness forced her from his gaze.

So focused was Third on the fading vision of Emperial below that he lost sight of where Constant was above him in the blackness. He could tell his daemon was nearby and, lacking any other sort of directional aid, he followed the feeling of her towards what he hoped was up.

Suddenly he found himself in a familiar room, the one filled with all the creatures. It was a strange transition, as if he had been in a dark room and suddenly someone turned on the light. He looked down and saw the dark hole leading back to the end of the world. For a moment he had the urge to return there, but when he looked up he saw Constant hanging in the water above him, waiting expectantly. He forced himself to focus on the dark hole waiting above them and not on the creatures around him or the hole leading back down.

The creatures receded behind them and the water grew dark once more. The longer he was in it, the better his sense of direction. With powerful strokes, he caught up to Constant in the darkness and was at her side when they were once again plunged into the light.

This time it was the room of food and after Emperial's story it was all the less appetizing. Third increased his pace, passing Constant in his yearning to get out. There were soon in darkness again and Third realized he had been holding his breath and hastily took in a lungful of the breathable water.

Finally the room with the gems. Third did not hurry his way through this one. Everywhere he looked, a brilliantly glinting surface, a thousand tiny specks of light in all the colors imaginable. So bright, so beautiful. Third tried to etch each gem into his mind as he drifted past and wondered what each was called and how it formed.

Constant pulled into the lead once more, drifting lazily ahead of Third until finally he tore his gaze from the delicate beauty of the stones and proceeded to follow her up. The light faded, and the rooms were gone. Perhaps if he swam back down he would still find them there, but perhaps not. Perhaps that whole world was now gone forever and a door was closed as permanently as if he had gone through the End of the World.

Third had to strain to catch up with Constant. Then he realized the strain was because he was having trouble breathing. Horrified, he realized that the strange dark water was disappearing along with the rooms and turning into regular water. The kind you drowned in.

Third immediately began to kick and thrash, struggling to swim with his arms as much as with his energy wings. He tried holding his breath but there was already too little of the breathable stuff in his lungs and he choked and tried to gasp. The goggles seemed to loosen from his head and suddenly there were spots in his eyes and he could just make out faint traces of light and Constant's silhouette above him, but it felt as if he was falling.

The world went black.

"And when I see him, I am going to wring his neck--!!"

"You'll do no such thing," came the calm, soft-spoken reply, accompanied by a knowing smile. Two men were walking down a hallway a step apart, one dark-haired and looking furious in his dark blue uniform, the other fair-haired and taller, clad immaculately in white with a cane at his side. Both wore glasses. It was the taller who had just spoken. Given the waves of anger emanating from his companion he seemed unnaturally calm.

The dark-haired one cursed, then growled out, "Well if I do it will be justified." His voice was accented, enough to identify the source as Eastern European.

"'Do justice and love mercy was the teaching of Micah, the prophet,'" quoted his companion with such benevolence it set the other's teeth on edge.

They turned a corner and entered a corridor with several other people. All wore uniforms of similar style to the two men but in different colors. They gave the men wide berth, perhaps because of the scowls the dark-haired man was sending at anyone who made the mistake of looking his way, perhaps because the two men were recognizable as being high in rank and thus worth moving aside for. The walls of the corridor were some sort of metal plating, in the middle of which was a thick black stripe. Several lights blinked along the stripe's length and then a word flashed across one section: "MESSAGE." The wall let out a beep and a woman who had been walking by stopped and tapped her finger on the notice. It displayed a missive directed to her. The two men walked by without paying her or the message on the wall any heed.

Stenciled on the metal section of the walls were letters and numbers identifying the many corridors and crossways. The two men emerged from "J-7719" and onto "M-5." They continued along in silence for several minutes. Finally the dark-haired one spoke up again, "I hate it when you--"

"--spout religious diatribe," the other man chimed in just as the words were spoken. Then he laughed, to his companion's considerable chagrin.

"And I hate it when you do that! Just because you have the ability to manipulate time--!"

"That has nothing to do with it," said the other calmly. "In this instance I knew what you were going to say anyway."

"Ptch. I don't know why I put up with you, Wilbur."

Wilbur just continued along, cane tapping against the floor, soft smile on his face. They stopped at a door labeled "DR 118" and it slid open before them.

One might have entirely expected the door to lead to something a little more grand. The room beyond was large enough to contain a small circus but, aside from several lines and warnings painted on the floor, completely bare. It was overlooked by a small windowed control area with no access into the room. Two white-clad figures sat behind the windows attending to several computer displays.

Someone was already in the room, standing sentinel just inside the door. His uniform was markedly different from the others. Olive in color, it seemed to be a throwback to the United States Army circa 1950. He nodded at the two men when they entered. Only Wilbur nodded back. His friend harrumphed.

A large shimmer formed in the middle of the room. Seemingly from nowhere, a small spacecraft materialized, a shuttle. It was a good twenty feet high and three times as long. There was a hissing noise as the landing gear relaxed, lowering the shuttle to the floor.

Four panels on the shuttle's side slid apart and the hatch opened. Standing there were two small children and a man in a black trench coat. The girl child had dark grey skin and white hair and wore a red kimono. The other, a boy, was dressed in black to match his black hair. A red and grey wolf stood at his side. The man hopped down from the shuttle, helping the girl after him. The boy and his dog jumped down on their own.

Wilbur placed a hand on his companion's shoulder. "Easy, Pavel."

"I can't believe this," Pavel said, watching with slitted eyes as the travelers disembarked. His shoulders trembled faintly.

The travelers approached, the man in the lead. He came to a stop ten feet in front of Pavel, enough of a distance that he could defend himself if necessary.

"General," said Pavel hoarsely.

The general's eyes flickered to Pavel's neck with faint surprise. "Admiral." His voice was drawn and weary. Hearing the strain in the greeting Pavel's anger subsided.

It was Wilbur who stepped forward and smiled at the children. "Hello Shizue, Third. I'm Wilbur." Both of the children seemed surprised to be identified so familiarly by this stranger. Wilbur turned and looked down at Third. He was a rather tall man with bright blue eyes. "Your mother asked me to meet you here."

Third did not hesitate. He fixed his gaze upon the stranger and said, "Code Omega."

A ripple of reaction spread through the adults. Pavel's mouth fell open, Doug turned on his heel, and the shadowed man in the army uniform uncrossed his arms. All eyes were on Third.

"What did you say?" said Pavel breathlessly. Third opened his mouth to repeat the words but Wilbur slammed his cane down on the floor.

"I think we all heard him the first time," said Wilbur softly. Without a word, the man in the army uniform turned and left the room.

Doug stared at Third in disbelief. "Where did you hear that?" he demanded. Third did not answer.

Again it was Wilbur who spoke. "The code has been ordered. Doug, I'm sure you have things to attend to with your daughter. Third, if you'll come with me?" Wilbur held out his palm in Third's direction.

"No," hissed Pavel. "I don't believe this. That code cannot be issued by a child!" He stepped between Wilbur and Third.

"Pasha," said Wilbur darkly, frowning.

"I will not accept this order! Dammit!" With a string of curses in Russian he stormed towards the exit.

Wilbur sighed. "General?"

Doug roughly took Shizue by the hand and followed suit, marching for the exit without so much as a look back. Third caught Shizue's eye as she was pulled along; there was an unspoken understanding between them in her lingering glance. Then she was gone.

With the others adults gone, Wilbur seemed to lose some degree of his decorum. He crouched down so his eyes were level with Third's. "I'm sorry we had to meet under these circumstances. I'm a good friend of your mother's. She asked me to look after you, and Constant too."

Third looked down at his daemon, standing obediently at attention beside him. She did not seem the least bit worried about this man, strange as he was.

"I understand if you're not comfortable. I promise your mother will be back soon." And his gaze was so knowing that Third was immediately convinced this man knew something the others did not.

"How do you know that?" Third ventured.

Wilbur laughed lightly. "All in good time. I'm sure you've had a long journey. Would you like to get something to eat?"

Third realized he was indeed hungry, and judging by how Constant's ears perked up, she was, too. He nodded.

"Very good then. Dim your wings. We'll see if we can't avoid your aunt." With that mysterious statement Wilbur stood and motioned for Third to follow him.

The next few days passed in complete and total bliss. Third learned that he was in North Carolina, it was early summer, and Mellie liked buying cookies for him at the bakery down the road. Best of all, he was allowed to go swimming in the lake, provided Wilbur or Mellie were nearby, and Mellie was more than happy to go swimming with him. "Even though I've lost some of my figure after two kids!" she exclaimed, modeling her swimsuit. The two kids were Annabelle and Jimmy, and they were camping with Wilbur's son from a previous marriage and his family.

The area Wilbur lived in was lightly forested and Third went out with a book on plants and a book on bugs and tried to learn as many of them as he was able. At this time of year, there were beetles in abundance and everything was green and flowering.

Constant was with him every step of the way. She sniffed at everything they came across, even a bug that proceeded to spray her with a nasty-smelling chemical, sending her crying towards the lake.

It wasn't perfect. Mellie was a pretty terrible cook, and at night when the stars were out Third was reminded of World Zero and Emperial and wondered if she was okay and cried a little bit.

On the fourth day Third was coming back from playing explorer (always within sight of the house, of course) when he saw Wilbur and a strange man talking on the deck. The stranger had thick glasses, unruly copper hair, and a long white labcoat totally wrong for the temperature. (Third was borrowing some of Jimmy's old clothes, which Wilbur seemed to have saved just for his visit. Such coincidences were commonplace around Wilbur.)

It was hard to make out the stranger's words. Wilbur's voice was clear enough, but the stranger had a gaspy voice and spoke softly, wheezing a lot. Only when Third was on the deck stairs did he pick up the conversation.

"He smashed... everything. It was... frightening. So much glass."

"It's a hard thing for him to accept," said Wilbur calmly, glancing over at Third. The stranger turned.

"Ah. Hello, Third. And Constant?" The stranger craned his neck towards the daemon. Third stopped and looked at the stranger. Short, skinny, and bouncing slightly. The lenses in his glasses were so thick as to be totally opaque. His face twitched. "I'm Dr. M. It's a... pleasant day, isn't it?"

As an attempt at small talk, it was pretty poor. Dr. M rocked on his feet and smiled briefly.

"I think Mellie has something for you," Wilbur suggested. Third nodded and continued inside, but he caught some more of the conversation on his way.

"It's... not like Emperial isn't important to us as well," said Dr. M. "She's very important to me."

"I know that. Let me deal with Pavel. You stick to your path group."

Third had to will himself into the kitchen where Mellie was waiting with a lemon shortbread cookie, Third's favorite so far, but hardly cheering under the circumstances. He took the cookie with only a mumbled thanks and quickly went back to listen in, hiding beneath the windows that looked onto the deck. The far window was open to let in the breeze.

"We could be looking at a full-scale path anarchy," Dr. M was saying. "The blacks are calling for retaliatory action, and the grey faction..."

"Go on," said Wilbur. Third tried to picture the face that went with that tone. Something far more serious than the Wilbur he was familiar with.

"What is your faction doing?" M said, exasperated. "No one knows."

There was a pause. A very long pause. Wilbur's cane tapped against the deck.

Dr. M sounded rather agitated as he said, "You're the Comptroller General. If anyone knows what's going on, it has to be you."

Wilbur's chair scraped against the deck. "The first rule of temporal regulation is noninterference. I'm sorry, M, but I can't help you. If you want to chase Pavel around looking for ghosts, that's your choice, but I recommend you stay with your faction."

There was nothing but the chirp of birds in the distance, then the noise of something falling against the boards of the deck. Not a sharp noise like Wilbur's cane, a dull thud.

"Contain yourself," said Wilbur sternly. "Mellie and Third are going to come back out here very soon." Apparently, whatever foreknowledge Wilbur possessed, it was not omnipotent, for he was unaware of Third listening beneath the window.

"Emi-- Emi--" choked out Dr. M, sounding like he was in tears.

"Get up," said Wilbur, more forcibly this time. Wilbur's chair scraped against the deck and he hauled Dr. M to his feet, an action Third could not see but imagined accurately. "Now sit yourself down and when my wife comes out here, thank her for her lemonade."

Dr. M sniffled dejectedly.

Mellie emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tray with the predicted pitched of lemonade. She saw Third and Constant sitting under the window. "You two want some lemonade?" she asked, and Third nodded dumbly. He got up and followed Mellie outside, mostly because Wilbur had said he would do just that. Constant tagged along behind him.

Wilbur and Dr. M sat at the table, the latter looking upset but sitting quietly. "Thank you, Mellie," said Wilbur, immediately followed by a small, "Yes, thank you," from Dr. M. Third climbed onto the chair next to the doctor while Mellie poured the glasses.

"I'll leave you boys now! Doctor, will you be joining us for dinner?" asked Mellie.

"No," said Wilbur. "I'm afraid he has other business to attend to."

"Apologies," said M from behind his glass, gripping it so tightly with his hands that it splashed and shook.

"Another time then!" said Mellie, disappearing into the kitchen.

Wilbur's geniality seemed to disappear. "We have five minutes." He reached around his chair and placed a dark bag on the table.

One benefit to the presence of the strange Dr. M was that Third saw his own confusion at Wilbur's statement mirrored on the little man. It was reassuring to know that he was not alone in perceiving Wilbur's words as indecipherable.

Wilbur set aside his lemonade untouched and laid his hands flat on the table, the bag in the middle. "Doctor, I want you to take Third and Constant and hide them. Somewhere I can't find them."

"But--"

A single look from Wilbur cut the doctor off. He gulped and buried his face in his lemonade. Third nibbled on his cookie halfheartedly.

"I'm trusting you on this, M. It's for the best." Wilbur pushed the bag towards the doctor and turned his gaze to Third. "Third. As much as I've enjoyed having you here, this location isn't safe any longer. It is imperative that you go as far away as possible and trust no one."

Under the table, Constant gave a yip and Wilbur's expression softened. "Excepting Constant, of course."

Third had no idea what to say to this, and he was hardly in the habit of asking questions. That duty fell to Dr. M.

"How long?"

Wilbur smiled faintly. "Until this is over. I'm afraid that's the best I can do under the circumstances. Please understand, my position as Comptroller General precludes me from revealing certain information regarding the passage of time."

A smile lit up Dr. M's face. "But it's going to end."

"'For dust you are, and to dust you will return.' All things are made equal in time. "

"Lovely," said the doctor, and attended to his lemonade once more. "Do you have anything to give us besides biblical platitudes?"

Wilbur considered that a moment, and then studied Third. "I can give you my word. You'll see me again. I look forward to it, in fact."

"Can you answer me one thing?" asked Dr. M.

Wilbur, perhaps already knowing the question, said, "Anything."

"How does your wife get the lemonade to taste like this?"

Immediately, Wilbur broke into laughter. He had yet to drink any of the lemonade himself. Third's portion was similarly untouched. Dr. M stared at his half-empty glass quizzically.

"A mystery of the universe, my good doctor. Perhaps one you'll yet solve."

"Doubtful," said M. "How are we going to know when it's safe to come out?"

"I'll use the code word," said Wilbur. M whistled through his teeth.

"Pasha's going to throw a fit."

"And if you've listened to me, you won't be there when it happens. I'm going inside now. Be gone by the time I get back." Without another look at any of them, Wilbur picked up his cane and headed into the house.

"So," said the doctor.

Third stared expectantly, wondering how to balance Wilbur's instruction not to trust anyone with the instruction to follow Dr. M. Only, Wilbur had not given Third that instruction in so many words, had he? Third's brow furrowed and he mumbled his concerns to Constant, her belly rumbling in reply.

Abruptly, M stood from the table and grabbed the bag. He started for the steps leading down to the yard. "Coming?"

After a moment, Third followed him, Constant directly behind, leaving two full glasses and one half-empty on the table.

To Third's surprise, M curved around the stairs and walked into the shadowy space beneath the deck. There were some old apple crates and spider webs down there, but the soil and sunlight made it otherwise bare of plant and insect life. Unbeknownst to Third, the conical grooves in the silty dirt were the pits of ant lions, waiting for their next victims to happen by. As shoes and paws passed them by their sand traps filled up, saving the lives of the ants for today.

Dr. M took a seat on one of the crates and said curtly, "Make sure the dog stays quiet. Not a single sound from either of you."

Third frowned and almost objected -- Constant was no mere dog -- but followed the order. He look at M imploringly.

"Why here?" said the doctor. Third nodded. M grinned, a look that was vaguely predatory. It was hard to tell if the effect was intentional when his eyes were obscured so thoroughly. "The last place anyone looks is in their hand, or right under their noses. Wilbur told me to get you out of here, he'll assume we've left already. Besides, don't you want to know what they're going to say?" M nodded his head, agreeing with himself on Third's behalf. "Just don't let them hear you, no matter what happens."

They sat there, Constant's tail flicking, M staring out at the yard (or so Third presumed, since that was the direction his face was pointed -- it was impossible to tell with those glasses), the noise of insects in the distance and even the faint sounds of children laughing down by the lakeside. Constant laid herself down in the dirt and rested her head on her paws.

Above them, the boards of the deck creaked. Creak, tap, creak, creak, tap. Wilbur and his cane. He walked right over their heads without realizing. M lifted a finger to his lips for silence. Third inwardly groaned. He had understood the need for quiet the first time.

Wilbur paused by the shadow of the table. Suddenly there was a heavy thunk from the opposite side of the deck and a new shadow appeared.

Wilbur spoke. "Supreme Commander, what a pleasant surprise."

There was a pause. A woman's voice answered, but not anything like the voices of Emperial or Mellie. This voice was sleek, controlled, harsh and full of subtle implications, none of which were pleasant. "A surprise? What a strange thing to say, Wilbur."

Boards shifted as Wilbur turned around. "Not at all, Commander."

"If you're going to lie to me, Wilbur, you could at least make it believable. You have a guest."

Wilbur sounded nonplussed. "You were right. I wasn't surprised. I had Mellie bring out some lemonade for us. Was there something I could do for you?"

The Supreme Commander inhaled softly. "Well now," she said. "It seems you have something I want."

"That would be?"

There was a pause and more board creaking as she approached Wilbur's position. "This doesn't have to be hard, Wilbur. Hand over the child."

"Any child in particular? I have four."

"Don't play with me general, you know perfectly well why I'm here."

"I can make a guess. Trion Bartholomew is busy exterminating copies and Ken Ishida is unwilling to help. You've lost the Praetorians."

What happened next was too sudden to be followed, but there was a clatter as Wilbur's cane fell to the floor.

"Give me the child they call Third."

Wilbur wheezed in response. Third realized Wilbur was being choked. He kept still. Sunlight filtered down through the cracks in the boards. It seemed forever before Wilbur took a deep gasp of air. Third could hear his heavy breaths quite clearly. Said the woman, "We can do this the easy way or we can do it my way. It's your choice. I know he's here."

Wilbur leaned heavily against the table as he steadied himself. "He's not here."

"The disembarkation logs say otherwise."

Wilbur was silent to that.

The Supreme Commander leaned in close. "I will tear this dimension apart if I have to, killing everyone and everything you hold dear."

"No, you won't," said Wilbur.

"Watch me."

Wilber's voice was raspy from the trauma to his neck but his resolution unwavering. "Subsection eight of the war treaty states that all dimensions under the purview of temporal auditors are immune from persecution by either side and that violation of such zones is a breach of the war act. Addendum C extends this to include nonmilitarized permanent residences."

For a moment there was nothing. It felt as if even the insects had stopped their lazy afternoon buzz. Finally, a hiss. "You're right. But I do have a right to inspection. And if I find a military presence..."

"Inspection must be conducted with the full knowledge of the enemy," said Wilbur. "Or it constitutes unauthorized militarization of a neutral zone."

Another long pause. "There is one thing you're forgetting," the woman said. "The war act protects you and your precious dimension, but if your family were to mistakenly wander into one of my zones..."

Both Third and Constant flinched at the noise of someone shoving a chair to the floor. It could have been Wilbur in a fit of anger, it could have been a physical statement by the Supreme Commander. It took all of their collective willpower to remain still. Constant resisted the urge to growl. She dearly wanted to leap up and attack this woman, Third could tell. Somehow the scene was all the more frightening when the people involved were hidden from view.

When Wilbur spoke, he was still calm, and his voice was mostly recovered. "You're assuming Third and Constant are still here. That would make sense, since they didn't go through the disembarkation room. Except..."

"Except?" demanded the woman impatiently.

Third could just picture Wilbur with a smile on his face. No, a smirk, because no matter how much a smirk did not fit Wilbur's character, it certainly fit his words. "Except that's based on the assumption that the dimension I live in is controlled."

Seething with anger, the Supreme Commander said, "You'll regret this." Her boots scraped against the boards and then suddenly she and her shadow were gone into thin air.

With Wilbur still standing over them, the group huddled beneath the deck was forced to remain still. Third listened as Wilbur bent to retrieve his cane and then Mellie's voice came from the house.

"Wilbur? I heard a crash."

"Just tripped over a chair, everything's fine," Wilbur called back. There was nothing in his tone to suggest a recent throttling.

Mellie's voice neared. "Are you okay? Oh, where'd the boys go?"

"Dr. M took Third home."

Mellie headed back towards the kitchen. Wilbur followed her into the house. "What a shame," she said, her voice receding. "I hope they come back soon."

They waited several moments until it seemed Wilbur and Mellie were quite gone. Then Dr. M reached into the pocket of his long white coat and withdrew a metal box. The dark bag he shoved under his arm. "I think we can leave now." It was a surprise to hear the doctor sound so calm after what had just transpired. Constant jumped to her feet and licked Third's hand. Third rubbed her behind the ears.

Dr. M fiddled with the box a moment then gestured for Third and Constant to approach. "Hold on to my sleeve," he instructed. "And your dog."

Even as he obeyed Third could hear himself saying, "Constant's not a d--"

The space beneath the deck was empty. The ant lions began to rebuild their homes.

It took Third's eyes a moment to adjust to the change in lighting. Since Constant was not reacting negatively to the stranger, Third decided he was probably in no danger. The man behind the desk was hairless and his face strangely artificial. Lily quickly slipped to the side and stood in the far corner of the room.

Third tried to make out the features of the stranger in more detail but it was too difficult so instead he focused on the screens. A whole wall, each of them flashing images too fast for the eye to see. Third could only just barely make out images of corridors like the ones they had just left and corridors like the ones Wilbur had led him through when he first arrived. People flashed by so quickly it was impossible to tell who or what they were.

"My name is Colonel Adomital," said the figure. He sat quite rigidly in his chair. He sounded calm, methodical. "I apologize for our having to meet under these circumstances. You've come in the middle of a very uncertain time."

Third started to introduce himself since it seemed only right, but a sharp movement of Adomital's hand stopped him.

"No need, I know who you are and how you got here. That's my job. I'm the Director of Security. I monitor everything that goes on in the Fleet. I'm also a Grey. Do you know what that means?"

Third shook his head, recognizing the term from Wilbur's conversation with Dr. M.

"It means I don't intend to interfere or pass judgment on you. My goal is purely observational. I only act when it is necessary to protect the security of the Fleet."

Third ventured a question. "The Fleet. What is it?"

If it was a surprising question, Adomital gave no indication. "I'm afraid a complete answer would take more time than we have available. Will the explanation that we are a government not unlike most countries suffice?"

Third frowned. He knew a lot of things he really had no reason to know, but as far as what defined a typical country's government, he was at a loss. "I don't know what that means."

Adomital paused briefly. "A collection of individuals working towards a unified goal pooling their resources."

"Alright." Third paused, swallowing to boost his courage. When Constant nuzzled her head against his hand he found all the courage he needed. "What's going on?"

Adomital moved straight into answering without any detailed exposition. "We're coming up on a conference and the Empelus, whom you know as Emperial, have been compromised. Since we require a White praetor, the Greys and Blacks are both seeking the Prime. Unfortunately, you were with the Tenth. That makes you the closest link to her matrix. And, we're all aware of her affection for you. The Blacks intend to use you as bait in order to draw the Prime out prematurely and, pun not intended, blackmail her into influencing the conference. Naturally, the greys and whites oppose."

Third wasn't sure he followed that, but did not know where to even start. "Conference?" he decided.

"In this instance, it's when our leaders decide what form existence will take for the next cycle."

Less helpful than Third might have hoped. "Doug and Shizue were there."

Adomital steepled his fingers. Did he have ten fingers? If was hard ot tell in this lighting. "Excellent observation. Unfortunately, neither of them were as close to the breach as you, and neither contains enough White elements to have remnants of the breach in their matrices. Also, their fate lines are divergent with Emperial's. Yours is convergent. That makes you the ideal catalyst."

Third frowned and bit his lip. Adomital spoke rather complexly. He understood, though. Having come from a book full of words he had a natural affinity for them.

"Lily," said Adomital, sharply but not unkindly. More like his intention was to snap her to attention. "Are you confident that you can escort this boy to Gaia?"

Lily did not look up at first, biting her lip and balling her hands into small fists. "No," she said after a moment. "Not really. There's... there's no choice."

"There is always a choice," said Adomital. "The fire and ice proposition."

"'If it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate to know that for destruction ice is also great, and would suffice,'" came the smooth, even calm reply. Lily looked up with a smile, weak but clear. "It takes a long time to die of ice. But that's your department, Dom. 'I hold with those who favor fire.'"

"Very well then," said Adomital authoritatively. "I'll see you at the conference. Good luck with your appeal."

"Thank you!" said Lily, sounding almost happy. She looked at Third and Constant. "Uh-are you ready to go?"

Third nodded. Lily rolled to her feet and headed back out the way she had come. Third tried one last time to make out Adomital's features before following her out.

Constant let out a low grumble. In the tongue that only the two of them could ever understand, Third said to her, "I know, but we have no option."

The hopeful sound Constant made in return was clear even without translation. There was always a choice.

Dinner was a production, breaded boneless (and in the Fleet that really meant boneless) fish and bowtie pasta and a green salad. It tasted at least twice as good as it smelled. Since there was no designated eating area, they ate on the couch, TV displaying some sort of a singing competition which Billy and Lily both commented on endlessly, arguing about the contestants and judges. It was over Third's head and he could not bother himself to take an interest. Finally it ended and the plates were cleared.

"Ready for bed?" Billy, sounding friendlier with each passing hour.

Third shook his head. "No."

"What-what time do you, ah--" Lily, seeming less nervous but not quite sounding it.

"--Go to sleep?" finished Billy.

After World Zero, scheduling bedtime sounded a foreign concept to Third. Besides, he never really slept. He shrugged and looked up at them, lost.

"Uhh, well, um, you can, you can use my room," said Lily.

Billy rubbed at his nose. "I don't think so. It's not, uh, fit for habitation. Mine's fine."

"But-- but where--"

Third interrupted. "I can sleep out here." There was no reason he should take up their rooms when he was going to be awake anyway, and if those rooms were any reflection of either personality, it was probably better not to venture inside them anyway.

Billy and Lily paused. "Good idea!" exclaimed Lily, a tad too happy at the offer. "I'll getchoo, ah, um, sheets."

"Pillows," said Billy, and they both moved to go find the items. Soon the fluffy couch was a fluffy bed.

Billy and Lily kept hovering around, trying to figure out what they were supposed to do for Third in a parental capacity. Third simply said goodnight and released them from their indecision. They turned the lights out as they went, leaving the room totally dark (no windows, no nightlight) except for the slivers of light from underneath the bedroom doors. Third noticed the light from Lily's room was bluish, from Billy's, yellow. He was beginning to wonder what the two had in common, if anything.

He lay on the couch for some time, staring at the emptiness. He listened to Constant's slow, even breathing. He was quite capable of laying there staring at the ceiling for the duration of the night, but after some time he got up and felt his way to the desk and found the switch for the light.

The weak desk lamp left most of the room covered in shadows, but it was perfect for reading. First, though, Third went and took his things from the dark bag, changing into his old clothes. Then he went to the bookshelf and took out the very first book he saw and sat down to read.

This was exactly how Billy found Third when he stumbled from his bedroom to the bathroom nearly eight hours later. Third looked away from the book just long enough to note that Billy looked disheveled so early in the morning. Third always looked vaguely disheveled himself; he never slept and his hair resisted attempts to tame it.

The bathroom was occupied for a good long time. Third could hear through the door as Billy showered, shaved, and brushed his teeth. If he had bothered to look up when Billy re-emerged he would have seen the (not unappealing, according to Lily) sight of Billy walking back to his room with only a towel around his waist. It was probably a good thing that Third was thoroughly engrossed in a well-worn copy of the Casebook of Sherlock Holmes.

Some twenty or thirty pages later, Billy emerged once more and finally seemed to take note of the fact that Third was also awake. "You're up early," he said to the boy as he moved into the kitchen to fill a mug with coffee. Third answered with a nondescript hum and turned a page.

"You want breakfast?"

Third looked up. He almost expected to catch Billy looking at him and look Billy in the eye for a change but Billy was busy studying some notes on the fridge. "Okay," Third said.

"Eggs and bacon or pancakes?"

Third paused, considering. "What are those?"

Billy sounded amused as he slurped noisily at his coffee and said, "Okay, then, both. And sausage for Constant." He began to busy himself around the kitchen.

Curious, Third left the book on the table and went to watch Billy. He stood respectfully in the threshold, the tips of his toes just bordering on the kitchen. Billy, who never kept still for more than a second at a time, was in his element in the kitchen, jumping between frying pans and bowls and seasonings. Somewhere in the midst of it all he drew out a small stool and patted it twice. "Better view," he offered, so Third went and sat. Constant showed up a moment later, careful to sit behind the stool so she was not in Billy's way.

Third had no words for the smells. Constant had only one: hungry. Third could hear her stomach rumbling from behind the stool. Billy could too. With a pair of tongs he deftly picked up a piece of some sort of cooked meat and tossed it onto a plate which he put on the floor for Constant to enjoy. Enjoy it she did, and rather noisily.

Before long the plates were ready. Billy set one aside under some sort of fancy cover, for Lily most likely. Then he held up a plate for Third to see and pointed out the items. "Bacon, scrambled eggs, pancakes, maple syrup." A glass of what Billy identified as "orange juice" completed the meal.

There was another stool in the kitchen so they sat and ate there instead of in front of the TV. Third preferred this arrangement. It was quieter without the television to talk over.

"So, ah, how do you like the Fleet so far?"

Third shrugged. "Okay I guess."

Billy grunted. "Our place doesn't look like much, but me and Lily, we like it like that. Now some places, they're really spectacular, the whole universe spread out in front of you. Now that's really something." Billy waved his fork in the air as he spoke, grabbing mouthfuls of food whenever he paused. "A lot of the Fleet, it's like this. Like Earth. You look around and see the same materials, the same culture and habits. But even if that's what you're seeing, that's not what you're really seeing. It's all under the surface. Right under the thin veneer of this supposed culture. The fact it looks like Earth, it's just for show, to make people feel comfortable. But you just look inside the walls and what do you find?"

Third munched quietly, eyes wide with admiration. Billy was a little off his rocker, but he was basically okay, and he was compelling to watch.

"You find robots, that's what you find. And computers. And- and security monitoring systems. If you look you realize you're not really living on a place like Earth, you're living in a spaceship that's painted up to look like a house. Which is pretty cool when you get down to it. Best amenities you'll ever find. Fresh food, clean air, clean water, everything delivers. You want something, you just say the word, and bam! It's there. And the vacations! Oh, man, you can go surfing and ten minutes later be on the slopes."

"Uh huh," agreed Third, grinning and nodding and almost laughing at Billy's performance.

"And if you've got any hobbies or interests? There's whole dimensions devoted to them. Sports, music, art, theatre, hiking, racing." Billy fell silent as he wrangled a piece of bacon onto his fork.

"Reading?" asked Third.

"Oh, sure, more books than you can read in a lifetime. Doesn't stop some people from trying. I heard a rumor there's this guy, they call him the Librarian. He disappeared into the Data Archives twenty years ago and no one's seen him since. He's in there, reading all the files, everything ever written." Billy paused and looked up a moment. "Of course, it's just a rumor, and it doesn't make any sense because the Fleet's only been around fifteen years, tops." He shrugged and worked on his eggs.

Everything ever written sounded quite interesting to Third, but he was smart enough to realize the unfeasibility of such a thing. It would take a long enough time just to get through all the books in the Den.

Billy noticed Third picking at his pancakes, pushing them around in the maple syrup. "Full?" he asked. Third nodded. "Alright." Billy relieved Third of his plate and put it on the counter.

Third swung his feet, hands gripping the seat of the stool. Just a few weeks earlier he would have thought he was quite high off the floor, but now it seemed like nothing.

Billy was soon done with his plate. He cleaned both, scraping the leftover bits of food into a pull-out trash can. From his perch, Third could see it was some sort of special trash can, since it was never emptied like the ones at Wilbur's house, but never filled. Some sort of automatic system, like everything else so far. The plates went into some sort of small dishwasher and were not seen again.

"I have to go to work," Billy said to Third, sounding apologetic about it. "Stay here and wait for Lily to wake up. Don't go anywhere without her. Kay?"

"Mh," agreed Third, nodding vigorously. Constant murmured helpfully at his feet.

Billy went back to his room to change and Third went back to his Sherlock Holmes. It was a good book, a collection of stories about a great detective, and there were illustrations, too. Some time later, Billy emerged from his room, took one of his jackets and some shoes from the closet and bid Third farewell.

The Den fell into silence. Constant sighed to lose her playmates and laid down at Third's feet.

It must have been hours before finally Lily emerged, yawning and shuffling into the kitchen. Like Billy earlier, she did not notice Third at first, retrieving her plate and sitting down to eat. Third thought her food would have been cold by now but apparently not. He kept his attention on his book.

She finished eating. Third heard her put her plate on the counter but not into the dishwasher. Lily came out and blinked at the child reading in the corner. "Uh, um, morning," she said.

"Morning," said Third. Constant lifted her head and looked at Lily, expecting a second breakfast.

"I, ah, I'm gonna get dressed and, and, um, we'll leave," announced Lily, disappearing to do just that. She emerged in a respectable brown vest and skirt with opaque black leggings and a frilly white shirt. Her shoes were brown with a little ruff of furry lining along the top. She walked up behind Third and peered at the book, immediately exclaiming, "Sherlock Holmes Case Book! I, ah, um, y-y-you can take that with you. It's-it's mine. Keep it." She smiled.

Third picked up the book and slid out of the chair, turning the lamp off as he went. Constant stood up and stretched, tail wagging at a new chance to move around.

They paused just a moment for Lily to worry over some sort of device attached to the wall near the front door. The digital readout showed some green letters and numbers: LT 11:56, FA 07:43. Lily smiled. "I-if we hurry, we-we can catch up t-to Billy." She fumbled with the door in excitement and rushed into the hall, barely waiting for Third and Constant to follow.

They ran along the corridors, Lily not even pausing to check the route. It was the same route she took every day, it was firmly ingrained in her mind. They passed no one, no security details or checks. It was hard for Third to remember the route himself: Lily was moving too fast and every corridor looked the same. Besides, he had the book to worry about. At this speed he could not afford to drop it. Lily might just run off.

Finally they were there. They turned a corner and the doors of Investigative Services greeted them. Standing right in front was Billy, one hand on the doors. He turned in surprise, looking just long enough to realize it was Third and Lily -- never long enough to make eye contact, never ever long enough for that -- and gave a little grunt of surprise.

"Mmbh," panted Lily, leaning against the wall. "Bieh-Billy!"

With a quiet smile, Billy turned back around and opened the doors. "After you." Lily stumbled past, followed by Third and Constant. The wood-paneled hall led to a wood-paneled corridor decorated with plants and art and a water cooler. There were severla doors with names on them and at the end of the short corridor the place opened up into a big room with lots of desks and light. Third could hear voices and noise coming from down there, but no one was actually visible. Billy went to the water cooler, letting the door swing shut behind them, and drew out a small cone of water for Lily.

"You should take them to your office," he suggested. "We'll be ready in an hour for DR. I'll be in the bullpen."

Lily practically inhaled the water as she shuffled Third and Constant toward one of the named doors. It read "Empilu Antreiden-Pierrot, Operational Support." She practically pushed the child and the daemon into the office and quickly shut the door behind them.

The room lit up upon their entrance. The place was small and horrifically cluttered. Papers were spilling off the desk onto the floor. Lily hastily walked around her desk, picked them up, and dropped them in a pile. "S-s-sit. Ahh..." She waved her hand and a display flickered to life in midair, momentarily throwing Third and Constant. The little daemon gave a small bark.

Lily stared a moment at the aerial display. She took a deep breath. She sat down in her chair and focused her attention totally on the glowing words in front of her. In exceedingly calm tones she said, "Initiate login procedure. Identify Lily Antreiden-Pierrot." Third watched the display blink and shift. Lily's last name was pronounced surprisingly softly despite all the consonants.

From Third's view, all the words were backwards, and he decided that trying to read them from here would probably give him a headache, so eh returned to the book. He was over halfway through now.

Lily's interaction with her computer system was almost entirely verbal, broken only by pauses as she read over the various screens. "File login. Open. Shut, go to case number 813-41-8C. Cross-reference file logins. Initiate standard data crosslog. Highlight all instances of possible outreach in purple, highlight all unaccountables in green. Save file, ship to C-NOD with note: recommend further background testing. Praetorian priority override. Relog file at back of queue. Finish case, next case." It went on like this for quite some time.

At Third's feet, Constant let out a rumble of a sigh and lay down. Third could only frown in sympathy. He would gladly have shared his book, but Constant would hardly get the same sort of enjoyment from it as Third. The most Third could offer his daemon was a reassuring scratch behind the ears as Lily worked.

Finally there was a knock on the door. One knock, a pause, then three more. "In Billy!" said Lily, and Billy's head popped in the door. Constant began to wag her tail in expectation of food.

Sadly, no food, only more work. "We're heading out now. Keep back and set the timer for ten minutes."

Lily swallowed nervously. "Yieh, yeah," she half-whispered, all of the confidence she had with her computer gone.

"Lily," said Billy reproachfully. "We don't get another chance."

"I know. I'll take care of it." Lily nodded and Billy's head disappeared back through the door. She looked at Third and said, "Ten minutes." Then, with a weak smile, she resumed her work.

A little readout appeared in midair. Third could see the numbers counting down in midair. Counting down from ten minutes.