At the end of each morrow, our daughter always sleeps with us in our bed. Even though we have a cradle for her, Sash never once considers putting her in it. Cuddled between Sash and me, we shower her with affection until she falls asleep.
Only once does Sash correct me for doing something that she considers wrong. At the end of one morrow while Sash bathes in the fall, I walk around the cavern with our daughter in my arms. After stopping in front of the painting of Sash at Ovin’s tree that hangs near the tunnel entrance, I point to the image of Sash.
“Mommy,” I say to our daughter.
“Sasasa,” she replies in baby-babble.
“That’s right,” I say, smiling with pride. “Her name is Sash. But to you, she’s Mommy.”
“Chase,” Sash calls to me from the other side of the cavern. When I turn to her, she’s slipping into her sleep clothes. “I don’t think we should teach her terms like that from your world.”
I nod my head. “Sorry. It’s just habit.”
“I know you mean well, but I don’t think anyone else will understand.”
There’s no anger or reprimand in her voice. She’s simply staying on top of what we both agreed to. Our daughter will be raised in the same way that the other children in this world are.
“I’ll remember from now on,” I say.
I return my eyes to baby girl. She peers straight into them and all the way to my soul. As has happened with Sash several times in the past, I feel tingles in my stomach and chest as my daughter uses her Krymzyn sense of awareness to reach inside me. I lean my face down and kiss her forehead.
“I love you,” I whisper.
“Mugaba,” she says in gibberish.
* * *
Over the next few morrows, Sash and I discuss several ways to spend time with our daughter after she’s living at Home. I suggest one idea not only because it will give us an excuse to visit her, but also because it won’t exclude the other children. Sash tells me that she thinks it’s a brilliant idea. I’ve already seen that the children here play Red Rover, so it’s reasonable to think that they might like another game. I’m going to introduce them to soccer.
After my duties have been completed one morrow, I stop by Home to see Marc, the senior Keeper. Stressing that it combines physical exercise with mental focus while teaching the children to work together, I explain the game to him. He decides that learning a new game from another world could be beneficial to the children in several ways. In the ultimate Krymzyn justification, he declares it should help them achieve balance.
Since I’m already there, I ask Marc for a tour of Home. I’ve never been inside the caverns, only to the field in front of the entrances. The interconnected habitats lie under a mile-wide range of rounded hills that run across the central portion of the Delta. He leads me through the door on the eastern side of the field. Another entrance is located on the western end of the hills.
As soon as we step inside, I notice how much larger the tunnel is than the one leading to mine and Sash’s habitat. With a ceiling at least ten feet high, the tunnel is wide enough for four adults to comfortably walk side by side. Instead of a solid granite top like in our tunnel, the rounded ceiling is made of crystal with Swirls inside lighting our path. When Marc closes the door behind us, I see another noticeable difference. On the inside of the door is a large steel bolt to lock it against the outside.
“We lock the doors during Darkness,” Marc says. “We always make sure the children are safe from Murkovin who might enter the Delta. The Keepers stand watch in the tunnel until Darkness passes.”
Carefully examining the six-foot-eight Marc, I move my eyes from his spiky, black-and-gold hair to his square face with a strong jaw, and then finally down to his toned, burly shoulders and arms. One thought jumps into my mind. His demeanor is always gracious, but if it came to a fight, he’s someone you wouldn’t want to tangle with.
“Is this the only tunnel?” I ask.
“There are two that join,” he answers. “This one is a long semi-circle from the eastern entrance to the western door. Another tunnel leads from the center point of this tunnel to a back entrance in the hills above us.”
He leads me farther into the tunnel until we reach an opening to a cavern. The cave is about twice the size of my entire habitat. Large pillows are neatly arranged in a circle on the floor. In the center of the room stands a monolithic black marble stone about four feet tall.
“We call this school,” he says. “The children sit on the pillows while Keepers provide education in science, mathematics, and a variety of other subjects.”
“What’s the rock for?” I ask.
“That’s the Stone of Education,” he explains. “Keepers have the ability to focus our thoughts on the Stone so that images are projected for the children. It helps them learn anatomy, physics, and many other areas of their studies. Would you like me to demonstrate?”
“Please do,” I excitedly reply.
“I remember hearing a story from the Disciples of another world,” Marc tells me. “It might have been the one that you come from, or a world that’s very similar. Do you have large bodies of water on a circular planet?”
“We do,” I answer. “We call them oceans.”
“That’s right,” he says. “I learned the word once before. I was fascinated by them since the only above-ground water
