Brain Plague

'Not now.' Too many non-carriers about.

Daeren added, 'Working with a new tester is an important step. You made a good transition.'

'I hope you like the show.'

'You've captured the essence of micro people—exactly how they appear to us.' He looked to the portrait of Garnet's favorite, the ring of forest green, its filaments bending in waves, its body slowly turning and bending just slightly, as if nodding. 'That's just how they look when they're happy. Before, only we could see them. But now, everyone can see them as we do.' His irises flickered blue.

Jonquil flashed, 'The blue angels thank us for rescuing all those defectors.'

Praise was sweeter than any drink.

In her eye the call light blinked. It was Ilia, her sprite clothed in her talar of butterflies. 'I'm so sorry to miss your Opening.' The gallery director rolled her eyes. 'We have a major fundraising event.'

'Of course, I understand.'

'However, I would like to stop by next week, if you don't mind. For a private tour.'

After the Opening, Chrys basked in the attention and tried to put out of mind the fact that of the Seven, only Zircon and Moraeg had come. Her window drowned in mail, mostly congratulations, the rest quickly discarded.

One night she awoke in a blaze of light. Before her on the floor lay a body like her own, a pool of blood seeping from its gashed eyes. She screamed, until she realized it was just a sprite.

'You are entirely safe in this house,' Xenon assured her. 'You just need to filter hate mail.'

Hate mail. She shuddered. 'I don't believe in censorship.'

'But you don't have to read it at night.'

'Okay,' she sighed, 'I'll filter mail at night.' The price of fame.

'On the bright side,' Xenon pointed out, 'look at all your new clients. You have more friends than enemies.'

More work than she could handle. 'But it only takes one enemy.'

In the morning, at work in her studio, she got a call from an Elf. Not Ilia; an Elf lord she had never met. Not a 'lord,' either, she reminded herself.

'Eris Helishon,' the sprite introduced himself.

Chrys's jaw fell open. Eris Helishon was the Guardian of Cultural Affairs, adviser to Guardian Arion Helishon, and a dozen other things—including Ilia's boss. If Elysium had 'lords,' he'd be a big one. Yet there he was standing in her gallery, before one of the micro portraits, a virtual train of swallowtails playing out behind him. 'I'm in town for the day,' the Elf said, 'and I happened to come across your work. I'd like to consider an acquisition. Would you have time to meet me?'

She got a talar and put on her best namestone, a cat's eye that shone like a moon. She took the lightcraft up to cross town; it bothered her less than it used to. She was a success, she told herself; a successful artist, meeting a buyer from Elysium.

They met at the gallery entrance, the great transparent brain shimmering just inside. About average height for an Elf, Eris had an air of complete self-possession, rather like Guardian Arion. To her surprise, his eyes flashed blue rings. The look was particularly striking amid his pale, cream-colored features. 'I'm a carrier,' he told her, just like Ilia. 'Strain Coelicolor.'

'Why, that's blue angels,' Chrys exclaimed.

'Indeed. You know the strain?'

'Blue angels,' flashed Jonquil. 'We've never met blue angels outside the Lord of Light. How interesting.'

She nearly touched his hand, but remembered that Elves avoided contact in public. 'Do they ever visit? I mean, if you don't mind.'

'Certainly; how civilized of you. You needn't worry,' he added, 'I direct the testing of all the Elysian carriers.'

'Of course, I understand.' Like Andra—the Elves had their own chief tester.

'I'll receive visitors,' said Jonquil, 'and Rose will lead our delegation.'

She winced, hoping Rose would leave a good impression. 'Behave as you would for the Thundergod.' She held out the transfer patch. Eris took it, then returned it, carefully avoiding her fingers.

'Won't you tell me something about your work?' he asked. 'Especially the portraits.'

She took him through the portraits, explaining the background of each, and their human hosts.

'Extraordinary,' Eris exclaimed. 'Simply unprecedented.' Behind him the virtual butterflies played across the floor and back through the doorway. 'I keep telling Arion, we need to educate our citizens about the micro people.'

'These blue angels seem rather inquisitive,' Jonquil told her. 'They keep looking into everything.'

'So, they're curious. Maybe they've never been outside an Elf before.'

They passed the arachnoid cityscape, then abruptly came upon Endless Light. Chrys stopped and swallowed.

'Yes,' observed Eris. 'May I ask what experience inspired this one?'

She looked away. 'Just a fantasy. Experimental.'

'I see.' Thoughtfully he regarded the towering vision of light and cloud. 'This was the one I particularly fancied.'

Startled, she looked at him. 'To purchase?' She had priced it double its worth, intending to keep it in her hands.

'If it's still for sale.'

'Sure. I keep a studio copy, if you don't mind.'

'Of course.' He turned to her, his pupils flashing brightly in his white face. 'Tell me ... have you anything else 'experimental'? Too controversial to show, perhaps?' He smiled. 'You know, we Elysians have sophisticated tastes.'

'Well, I pretty much show what I've got.' She thought it over. 'There's one piece you'd like, but I'm still working on it.' She found a blank stage and called down Children Merging. She thought she had got the merging part okay with Jonquil, but the division into three still appeared off center.

As Eris watched, his face intensified. His cheeks flushed, then whitened again. 'Yes,' he said as if to himself. 'We must have that.'

'I'll let you know when it's finished.'

He stiffened, then seemed to recollect himself. 'Excuse me. Thanks, do let me know. I believe I've taken enough of your time.'

'Oh Great One,' flashed Jonquil as he was about to leave. 'Remember our guests. And Rose—she has yet to return.'

Chrys raised her hand. 'Your people—I'm so sorry. Let me return them.'

Eris slowly turned. 'Of course. Thanks for remembering.'

She put the transfer at her neck, but for some reason Jonquil took longer than usual to signal it was ready. At last she held the patch out to him.

The Elf did not take it. Something told her he expected her to place it directly at his neck, the way Valan carriers did. She did so, used to it by now.

'I appreciate your local custom,' he said. 'I hope we'll be seeing much more of each other. I expect to add many of your works to my collection.'

Eccentric, she thought, but then she'd never had an Elf patron. So many inquiries were coming in now, she barely had time to paint. 'What did you think?' she quizzed Rose and Jonquil on the way back to her studio. 'How were his blue angels?'

'Slimy,' said Rose. 'Slimy degenerates.'

Chrys sighed. Poor exiled Rose never had much good to say of her bourgeois comrades.

'They wouldn't be my first choice of visitors,' added Jonquil.

'They tried to keep us there,' insisted Rose. 'Tried to make us miss our