Iris

'I want to be. No one can help.''

'Someone can.' She reached out and, taking Beth by the arms, pulled her to her feet. 'You helped Demo a little, back when we first got here, remember? Let him help you now. . . .'

'How?'

Vana smiled. 'You haven't been under yet. It's more than you think. Come on.' They walked out of the room, slowly, and John was waiting for them. 'Beth? I wanted to see you.' Vana shook her head. 'Not now, John. In a little while.'

The man ignored her. 'Beth, do you want to link with me now? DR, I mean. . . .' Beth looked at him in astonishment. 'Now?' she asked. 'Oh, John. Go away. . . .' He seemed stunned. 'But I ...' He turned from them abruptly and stalked off. Vana said, 'Come on, Beth. Demogorgon's in Ariane's room. They've lost him together, you know, in the same measure. They need us as much as we need them.'

Ariane and Demogorgon were alone together in the former's room. They had been talking, trying to talk, but were quiet now, curled up on the bed. Words were useless. Their hearts throbbed to a measured stillness, an inner silence that held a matrix of conflicting ideas. The woman thought, He loved him as much as I did, perhaps more. Our culture still breeds a strange sort of contempt, fills us with a curious lack of understanding. We think of bizarre biochemical mix-ups, of volitional neuroses for which a refused cure exists . . . but the emotions continue to seem real. It's more than just a friction between sticky bodies—the great I-don't-know-what that binds humanity. And there remain no explanations but the ridiculous romanticisms of dead poets.

The man thought, There must have been more between them than just the sweat and gruel of heterosex. People bind without reason. I don't know. I think I always looked on other people as warped extensions of myself. They're not. There are differences I cannot understand, shades of meaning that do not come through. We can see each other's experiences, live through a tide of alien feelings, but still we are not each other. We strain everything through the one-way filter of our own ideas and meanings. We view everyone through a lens that distorts them into ourselves. We never see them as they are. We think, If I did that, I would be bad, therefore he must be bad. Brendan is gone, but really, to me, did he ever exist? Can empathy be real without understanding?

Oddly, it was as if Brendan had died before the episodic projections they'd gotten from the Starseeder computer. The personality of the man as relayed from inside Iris simply connected with their other memories at no point, and it was disappearing from their consciousnesses like nothing so much as a bad dream.

The door crackled open and Harmon Prynne looked in, his face uncertain, his manner tentative. 'Can I be with you?'

Demogorgon almost smiled. 'Come in. Please.'

He entered and came to sit on the edge of the bed. 'Is there anything I can do?' Ariane patted him on the thigh. 'Just be here. That's enough.' They sat in silence for another little while, then the door sizzled again. This time it was Vana and Beth. They came over to the bed. Beth sat down and Vana remained standing, smiling down at them a little. 'Well,' she said. 'We needed to be with someone. I guess we weren't the only ones.' She sat. Beth lay down, tangling herself with the others, and sighed. After a while she seemed to fall asleep.

Prynne stirred, snuggling closer into the mass. 'We're becoming like little children. Pillows and blankets to curl up in. Teddy bears to hug. Warm laps to lie in. This is comforting.' Demo looked at him, surprised, then thought, Oh, why not? We are none of us as stupid and insensitive as we always seem. Magicians. We can be closer. . . . But the idea fled, unripe. A short while passed, and Tem's head stuck in through the unclosed door. 'What's going on in here?' He came in, followed by Aksinia. They came over to the bed and Krzakwa grinned, looking down. 'Is this something sexual?'

Ariane smiled up at him. 'We're having a special conclave. Climb aboard.' Aksinia pushed herself off the deck and drifted down onto the bed, clutching her book.

Krzakwa sat on the edge of the growing human tangle. 'Axie's made something of an important discovery. We . . .'

'Can it wait?' Ariane asked.

'Well . . . sure. I think I see.' He wedged his bulk in among them. Demogorgon was frowning. They're all here, he thought, we're all here, but something's still missing. This is an artificial sort of closeness, an electric-blanket sort of thing. Just because our bodies are warm .

. . The idea came back. He said, 'Listen, I think we should go to the Illimitor World together.'

'Aw, Demo. Come on!' That was from Harmon.

'I mean it. I think we're all sick right now. Hurting. We could make things better. Some of you have been there. You know what I mean.'

Vana nodded. 'I do. He's right.'