Narrator S: Cleophee Guilemoth has the biggest room on the Ship. She didn’t ask for it, it was just kind of given to her – her right as the envoy of the glamorous Guilemoth family.

[Whimsical synth music.] 

Narrator X: When you’re basically a princess, basically on board a starship, basically to the end of the universe, you gotta have some good chambers, and boy does Cleo have some good ones. Let’s check this out. 

Narrator M: More than just the basics. 

S: Where most of the crew quarters are divided up into individual rooms on each of their respective decks, Cleo has an entire deck to herself. She has done her best to make it feel like her own in her time on the voyage so far. 

X: She’s got a lot of stuff, a lot of personal effects. Remember all those trunks and boxes that were being brought aboard by her entourage? 

M: Bookshelves crammed full of sparkly book spines. 

S: A standing wardrobe bursting with a lot of clothes. 

X: More clothes draped on fine furniture. Some of it hers, a lot of it hers. A lot of, uh, fancy dark mica furnishings extruded straight out of the black crystal of the floor, including…

S: A bathtub. Like one of those gemstone bathtubs that some people apparently have. 

M: Cleo does.

X: It’s here, sort of towards the front, the prow, the pointy end of her room, the end of the room facing forward towards the prow of the Ship, nestled in between the angled walls where they join at the razor’s edge of the Ship’s leading bow. That’s where her bathtub is. Boy, the view from this tub is crazy. 

S: The cold, blue-white, really quite harsh light of the Un is softened and refracted through the dark mica walls of the Ship, throwing rainbows of all colors across the floor of her chamber. She’s got a lot of plants, too, and right now, Cleo is puttering around tending to them with a little misting can full of fold isolate.

X: That yellow caterpillar little guy, Omelet–

S: It’s a cat. A cat. 

X: The cat, Omelet, has got the zoomies. Probably just, uh, took a little cat dump, and he’s pretty hyped about it. Now he’s zipping all over the room, hooting. Look at him go. What a little– what a little guy. He’s on the move.

[Rapid animal footsteps and chittering] 

S: (Cleo) “Omelet, did you just use the litter box?”

X: He yells, confirming that yeah, he sure did. 

S: He only makes that particular noise when he has just used the litter box, so Cleo always knows. She frowns thoughtfully, looking at one particular plant, a precious cutting from her late grandmother’s garden, sort of a luminous blue coral thing covered in pinkish-orange buds. It’s doing okay since being brought out of the Fold, but could be doing better. She hopes she’s taking care of it properly. She’s not really an expert in these things, more of a hobbyist. She just likes being surrounded by pretty things. 

X: But you know who ARE experts in plants? Why, the botanists aboard the Ship. Maybe they might be able to help out. Maybe they’d know a thing or two about this. 

S: Best not leave this to chance. This particular plant is very special to her. She scoops it up in one hand, and with the other, beckons to Omelet. 

X: He skitters across the floor, winding around the edge of the bed, around the tub, and scampers right up to Cleo, wrapping himself around her leg, up around her waist, over her shoulder, and there he is once again, wrapped around her neck like a nice little feather boa.

S: (Cleo) “That’s right, little cutie, little boy. Let’s go visit Botany.” 

M: Cleo approaches the back spine of the Ship,

S: which she has direct access to, since, as we mentioned, her stateroom is an entire deck all by itself. 

X: And here in the back wall of her room, facing the rear of the Ship, the dark crystal wall doors before her into a nice little rectangular elevator compartment, made, of course, as most things are, of completely dark mica.

M: Here on the wall in the elevator, a panel of perfectly normal buttons. She presses the one for Botany. 

X: The elevator zips down, liquidly descending straight through dark mica crystal, deck after deck whizzing by translucently through the wall in front of Cleo. 

M: Beautiful prismatic rainbows streak through at various points at obtuse angles as the light of the Upper Unfold filters in through the walls of the Ship.

X: She elevators down, passing by several decks of additional crew quarters. She sees folks hanging out, going about their business. She passes by the swimming deck, the pool, a little gym, a little laundry area. She whizzes down, passing by the lounge and kitchen and dining, past the main atrium. The control deck and bulb servicing glides by. 

S: Now passing into the lower half of the Ship. 

X: The spare bulb workshop. She sees a glimpse of the Stagecoach hangar, the red dart-like fuselage of the Stagecoach itself gleaming before she zips on by, elevatoring past servers and programming, past science labs, and then the elevator comes to a stop, dooring open at Specimens and Botany Collections.

M: The room is ringed by countertops, many of which stand open and ready, waiting for new specimens to be collected. 

S: The crew anticipates that they will do most of their specimen collecting in the Fold, a much more biodiverse region flourishing with plant life. But there are some specimens here in the cultivation trays, some lichens native to the Un, some breadmoss, a few succulents from Midst. Some of the scientists are here, taking some readings, chatting with each other, drinking their morning coffee. Coffee really helps. Very popular here on the Ship. Bunch of people from all kinds of different islets with all kinds of different circadian rhythms all trying to sync up and be a functional team together.

M: Living that bean life. 

X: The botanist and the naturalist are over here checking out a couple of wacky orchids and looking out the windows at the unscape, 

S: an unscape that is not quite wide and open as it was just a week ago. 

M: The Ship continues to ascend ever upwards into the brilliantly bright sky, outstripping the range of the Uppermost Outpost’s instruments and telescopes. The Un, once a vast open space studded with occasional crystals, is gradually transforming into a maze of mostly crystal interspersed with occasional open space. 

X: The furthest reaches of observed reality have been approached and passed. The Uppermost Outpost has been left far below, as distant now from the Ship as the Highest Light was distant from the outpost. The expedition is now well within a region where some have ventured in the past, but from which literally none have ever returned. Hopefully this expedition will fare better. We’ll just have to wait and see. So far it seems to be going okay. 

S: As amazing as all that is, Cleo isn’t really thinking about that stuff right now. She just wants some professionals to check out the health of her plant. 

[Buzzing insects and humming machinery]

X: They turn as Cleo enters. It’s a little unusual seeing her down here. (Naturalist) “Hey, can we help you with something?” the naturalist calls over, waving. 

S: (Cleo) “Well, I hope so. I hope I’m not bothering you! Are you busy?” 

M: (Botanist) “Oh, not at all,” the botanist says, setting down a mug of coffee.

S: (Cleo) “I just need the help of some experts. I brought some plants with me from home, and they’ve never been out of the Fold this long before – just like me! – and I just want to make sure that I’m not doing something terribly wrong with them. Could you check this one out?” 

X: (Naturalist) “Uh, sure. Why don’t you just sit it on the counter here?” The naturalist moves some papers out of the way. 

S: (Cleo) “Thank you! I’ve been misting it with some fold isolate, which is really all I could think of to do, and I think it’s doing okay? It’s just…looking a little less vibrant than I remember.”

X: The naturalist examines Cleo’s plant. (Naturalist) “Yeah, looks like it’s maybe going through a little unshock,” she says, “but that’ll pass soon, and we’ll be headed into the Fold again before you know it.”

M: (Botanist) “We’ve all been having to get used to these different rhythms,”

X: the botanist agrees.

M: (Botanist) “Constant light is definitely something I’m not used to.”

S: (Cleo) [laughs]

X: (Naturalist) “How about you? How are you feeling?” the naturalist asks, eyeing Cleo. 

S: (Cleo) “Well, the light is a bit much. It’s my first time in the Un!”

M: (Botanist) “No kidding!” 

S: (Cleo) “Yeah, so I usually darken the walls of my room when I need to sleep, and just try to acclimate myself to it little by little.” 

X: (Naturalist) “I like those unglasses you’ve been wearing. Super cute.” 

S: (Cleo) “Do you like them? You can have them!” Cleo pulls them out of a pocket and offers them to the naturalist.

X: She pops them on and gazes out the dark mica glass window into the unscape outside.

S: (Cleo) “Cuuute!”

X: (Naturalist) “They are nice, though! They, uh, they look pretty, um…” She is staring out into the expanse. “They look, um. They look…” She kind of trails off. She’s looking at something outside the window. 

S: (Cleo) “They make everything look pink!” 

X: The botanist is turning to look as well. The naturalist is removing the unglasses, gazing fixedly at a large mica berg passing by outside the Ship. 

S: Fluttering in the breeze, like a handkerchief caught on the wall of an iceberg, is something red.

[Mysterious music] 

X: A LOT of something red, something like strange crimson draping vines whispering in the wind. The naturalist is staring. (Naturalist) “Uh, yeah, that’s not just the glasses.” She hands them back to Cleo. “You should probably keep these. I don’t know they’re my style. Uh, we should probably call Control.” 

S: (Cleo) “Okay. What is that? Is everything okay?” 

X: The folks down in Botany aren’t the only ones noticing the odd biodiverse spectacle outside. Up here, six decks above Botany, in Control, folks are starting to take notice as well.

S: People are scratching their heads over what this thing might be. 

X: It certainly seems to be plant life, up here in an area of the expanse where plant life, to the best of anyone’s knowledge, does not or should not exist.

M: Merlin, here in Control with the bocular tech Shug Ruggles and the ship designer Abel Bowie, stand and approach the window, looking out at this strange curtain, this hanging lichen, brilliantly red. 

S: It’s quite ragged, exposed as it is to the razor-sharp atmosphere of the Un, but what it signifies is what interests them. 

X: The vegetation hangs, blowing in the wind, dripping from a crevice in the side of a colossal berg of mica, from a crack, from…

S: A cave large enough to accommodate the Ship. 

X: (Bowie) “We’re going to follow that in there, aren’t we?” Bowie asks, looking at Merlin, looking at Ruggles. “We gotta.”

M: Merlin is just staring fixedly ahead at the curtain of lichen. 

X: (Bowie) “I thought there wasn’t supposed to be any life up here,” Bowie says, elbowing Merlin. “Didn’t you write a whole book about that?”

M: With a strained expression, Merlin nods once. (Merlin) “I…did,” is all Merlin can say. 

S: Within minutes, the entire crew is in unanimous agreement, and the Ship comes about, diverting to explore this strange and intriguing point of entry. The Ship glides carefully into the mica aperture and ascends up a long crystalline crevice, weaving through increasingly dense curtains of draping red lichen, until suddenly, the strange vegetation parts before the bow of the Ship.

X: The crew press to the windows, staring out with absolutely wide-eyed incredible amazement. Holy shit!

M: (Merlin) “Oh my fucking research,” says Merlin.

[Otherworldly music accompanies a variety of animal calls.] 

S: A dazzling crystal cavern, a colossal geode-like grotto at the hollow heart of this mica berg, sprawls before them. A huge, glowing lagoon dominates the center of the space, stretching across the floor of the cavern.

X: Illuminated from beneath by the natural luminance of its mica crystal bed, silhouettes of strange fish, eels, and amphibians dart beneath vibrant lily pads, swirling among technicolor seaweeds. 

S: The underlit azure water laps at a blinding white beach of powdery mica sand, like diamond dust. 

X: It is an absolute oasis, a mind-bending cornucopia of plant and animal life, flowering vines, succulent fronds, ferns, mosses, gleaming strange pitcher plants.

S: After so many days traveling through the bleak bright whiteness of the Un, the color on display in this cavern almost hurts the eyes. 

M: Dappled and shifting unlight plays across lustrous curtains of red lichen that hang from the walls and ceiling of the cavern, their crimson fronds drifting in the water, trailing on the mica sand beach. Crustaceans and lizards climb to and fro, hither and thither throughout the branching, intricate, almost brachial lichen growth.

S: And as the huge black shard of the Ship hovers to a stop above the lagoon, countless strange creatures look up without fear, with curiosity only, and the crew, inside, look back.

X: (Naturalist) “Can we go outside?” asks the naturalist.

[Scene transition. Indistinct background chatter.]

S: The Ship has parked, its prow on level with a convenient crag of lichen-covered mica. 

M: The crew have begun to disembark, wearing mica-resistant boots, and many of them casually holding respirators, but not using them. 

S: The first to disembark from the Ship, of course, were decked out in full protective gear, but it took very little experimentation to discover that the air here in this oasis cavern is weirdly pure and clean, free of the airborne mica particulates that normally would tear your airways to shreds.

X: There’s an almost clean and delicious flavor here in the atmosphere inside this geode-like lagoon chamber, a tastiness, a freshness, a fruitiness. 

S: The sweet fragrances of flowers. 

X: All around the crew disembarking, strange mosses and lichens, sticky fast-growing ivies, snails and barnacles, 

S: little airborne pollens like dandelion puffs. The whole science department is just having a field day, literally. 

X: And also, more figuratively and emotionally, this is probably one of the most absolutely phenomenally insane things – guys, we are in space, in a floating cave paradise. 

S: It’s like discovering the Galapagos Islands in space. 

X: Like on the far side of the moon.

S: An untouched paradise of undiscovered plant and animal species. What more could you ask for? This is why we’re here!

X: The naturalist’s eyes are absolutely popping out of her head. She taking in every single microscopic detail of everything, because literally every single thing here is unbelievably new.

S: She is sketching as fast as she can. 

X: This is one hundred percent undiscovered shit right here, folks. Absolutely everything is historically novel. What the hell? 

S: But it’s not just those with a professional interest who are exploring the cavern. It’s everybody. This is spectacular. 

X: Folks are strolling outside of the Ship, heading down to the crystalline beach, enjoying the warm, almost tropical air.

S: Oh yeah, it’s warm here.

M: They pass numerous little tide pools, each teeming with a wild range of microorganisms, tiny starfish-like worm cells, scooting to and fro. 

S: There are these little turtles or crab-type things with completely clear chitinous shells, clusters of eyes located on their backs, peering upward, protected under the clear encasement.

X: Mother Artifice, coming down out of the Ship, is inspecting those, staring into the weird little crab eyes with his own blank gaze. 

S: Cleo, as colorful as she is, looks barely out of place as she comes stepping out of the Ship, breathless with wonder and excitement. (Cleo) “It’s just like my comics!”

M: (Rawfield) “Your comics can’t bite, poison, or dismember you, though,”

X: Dr. Rawfield says, keeping a wary eye on the landing party.

M: (Rawfield) “I agree it’s very nice here, but please be safe, and don’t forget your common sense.”

X: Everett and Micky are strolling arm in arm by the edge of the lagoon here, looking absolutely starstruck. This rules. 

S: Micky takes a deep, peaceful lungful of the clear air.

X: (Everett) “And I thought Verdure was pretty nice,” Everett says, looking around, squeezing Micky’s hand.

M: (Micky) “Right?” 

X: (Everett) “Does this take the cake, though? What a, what in the heck!”

M: (Micky) “This is nuts.” 

X: (Everett) “If we could ever get back here with the Stagecoach… Vacation sometime next year, maybe?”

M: (Micky) [laughing] “The Stagecoach probably couldn’t make it up here on its own, but… maybe someday.”

X: (Everett) “You think we can camp here tonight?”

M: (Micky) “We could ask.”

X: (Everett) “I’ll ask, I’ll ask. I think I can pull something off.”

S: It’s pretty clear that the entire crew is going to want to spend as much time as they can justify here. Everett and Micky can probably get away with their little camping scheme. 

X: Drewrey Hambing – still tiny, still fantastic – is riding around on the shoulder of timekeeper Felix Hustleworth. 

S: Felix looks tired. He was up all night trying to calculate what time it was. (Felix) [yawning] “Amazing.”

X: (Hambing) “Hey, can we stop here? Hang on, hang on.” 

S: (Felix) “Yeah, whatever you want, buddy.” 

X: Hambing sproings like a flea, firing himself through the air to land on a crimson frond over here,

M: a jump tens of times more powerful than a being of a comparative size should be able to make, but, well, he’s a tearror guy. 

S: (Felix) “You’re crazy, dude.” 

X: (Hambing) “Life’s full of crazy surprises. You gotta try ‘em!” 

S: (Felix) “Eh, I don’t have time.”

X: A sort of a salamander turns to face him and gives him an experimental lick. (Hambing) “Hey! Aah! Oh, that tickles! Woah!” Hambing is clearly thinking about whether he can ride the salamander. You just can’t pin that guy down. You never know what he’s gonna do next. Hambing’s a maverick. 

S: A mad lad. 

X: Of course it would be him who gets shrunk. Who knows what else will happen to him in the course of this adventure? It’s probably gonna be neat. Stay tuned. 

S: But how are our goths at the beach doing, now that they have a literal beach to be at? The dark horned specter of Mother Artifice stands out in this beautiful lagoon like a pocket of void, 

X: his tall spectral wraith-like silhouette only slightly disrupted by the large armored moon boots that he’s wearing to prevent his feet from being razored off by the particulates of the beach here.

S: The air may be clean, but the ground is still covered in mica hazards. 

X: Razor dust. 

S: Safety first. 

X: The Granddaughter stands beside him wearing their extremely large hat, also decked out in moon boots. 

S: They gaze out at the gentle lapping of the azure water, underlit in its mica basin, the silhouettes of fish and other unidentifiable creatures cast against the surface of the lake.

X: (Mother Artifice) “THIS JOURNEY CONTINUES TO PRESENT MUCH TO EXPERIENCE AND BEHOLD, BOTH WITH THE SENSES AND WITHOUT.” 

M: Mother Artifice turns his face from a couple of basking lizards to look at the Granddaughter. 

X: (Mother Artifice) “HOW IS YOUR PURSUIT OF REALIZATION UNFOLDING?” The Granddaughter blinks slowly, contemplatively. (Granddaughter) “I am watching. There are many things that I’ve seen that are notable, but I’m not sure that they are Realization. The Foldlight is extraordinary, and sometimes when I’m looking into it I… but…” 

M: (Mother Artifice) “YOUR REALIZATION WILL NOT BE UNCLEAR. YOU WILL KNOW WHEN IT PRESENTS ITSELF.” 

X: The Granddaughter nods slowly, thoughtfully. (Granddaughter) “Then Realization has not presented itself yet. It has not yet been clear.” 

S: Artifice doesn’t say anything right away. Is he even listening? He isn’t moving. He seems sort of…checked out. 

X: The Granddaughter wasn’t there at the time, but you will remember how Artifice seemed like he was almost asleep for a second at the Uppermost Outpost. It’s kind of like that again. The Granddaughter examines him, frowning. 

S: Maybe this is some kind of mystical test.

X: Is this Realization? What’s, what’s going on here? 

S: But then, suddenly–

M: (Mother Artifice) “I, UH. OH. WHAT DID YOU SAY?”

X: The Granddaughter peers at him. (Granddaughter) “I…said that Realization has–”

M: (Mother Artifice) “OH, YES. THEN REMAIN VIGILANT. YOUR ATTENTION IS A BEAM OF LIGHT WITHIN YOUR CONTROL, TO DIRECT AS YOU WILL. TO COME TO THE KNOWLEDGE THAT YOU DO NOT HAVE, YOU MUST GO BY THE WAY THAT YOU DO NOT KNOW. TO COME TO POSSESS WHAT YOU DO NOT HAVE, YOU MUST GO BY THE WAY WHICH YOU DO NOT POSSESS.”

X: (Granddaughter) “I understand,” the Granddaughter says, understandingly. 

M: (Mother Artifice) “WHO KNOWS WHAT YOU MIGHT PERCEIVE IN THIS VERY OASIS? GO FORTH AND OBSERVE. I AM GOING TO SCRUTINIZE THESE SALAMANDERS. THEY LOOK VERY WEIRD.” Not so far from where the naturalist is sketching, Merlin is quietly contemplating a tidepool of small, red, almost salmon roe-like globules.

S: These rosy pearl-like objects seem to litter the cavern floor underneath these curtains of red lichen. Some kind of fruit? Or byproduct? He isn’t really sure.

M: They are orbs. Merlin is pondering the orbs. He scratches his beard and drags his fingers up through his hair, which is becoming increasingly tousled despite the lack of wind. The Bocular Man is nearby, also wearing mica-proof moon boots– 

S: gotta protect your investment– 

M: placidly observing Merlin. 

S: Cleo is nearby, cheerfully harvesting these little red pearls into a basket. She doesn’t know what they are, but they look pretty. And she glances over at Merlin, giving him a cheerful wave. (Cleo) “Isn’t this just incredible?” 

M: (Merlin) “Uh, it…it is! It is, truly.”

X: He sounds like he’s acting convinced, but he doesn’t look convinced. What’s going on here? 

S: She straightens up, brushing out her skirt. She’s got Omelet carefully and securely wrapped around her torso. He is not allowed to run around on this mica beach.

X: He is obsessed with these butterflies over here, though. He’s been staring at them fixedly, his eyes just popping out of his little yellow head.

[Chittering] 

S: But he seems smart enough not to go scampering off in this strange environment. Still, Cleo keeps one hand securely clamped on his furry yellow back as she strolls over closer to Merlin.

M: (Merlin) “What do you think of all of this? This is radically different than it is in Ebonreef.” 

S: (Cleo) “This is amazing for me. I’ve been dreaming about the Un and the marvels that it might contain ever since I was a little girl. I’m kind of an Un nerd. In fact, one of my favorite comic book series is – well, I’m, I don’t think it’s probably that scientifically accurate, but…it does seem as magical as I was led to expect. But what about you, Merlin? You must be thinking way more about, like, the science side of all this. I mean, this is major!” 

M: (Merlin) “That’s putting it mildly.” Merlin nods. “This is radically different than anything I, or we, could have expected to find up here.” 

S: Cleo quirks her head, watching Merlin thoughtfully. (Cleo) “Are you…are you feeling okay? It just seems like something might be bothering you, and you know, if you want to talk, I’m right here. But you don’t have to.” 

M: (Merlin) “Oh! Uh, no, I’m just– You’re very…disarming, I guess, in your approach. I appreciate the honest question. Um…”

S: (Cleo) “Well, you know, we’re all stuck on this ship together! I want to make sure my crewmates are feeling good.” 

M: (Merlin) “And I appreciate it. Um, if I’m being honest, it’s a little…startling. We never could have believed that life could survive this far up, let alone thrive like this. I just… All of my research has been predicated on there being sort of a hard limit, that nothing could really get its roots in in such hostile territory. It’s, it’s not… Life just is not endemic to these higher reaches, where you have incredible dangers. But here is a pocket – a perfect, pristine bubble – protected from the elements, yet part of them all the same! We are inside of a mica berg! The ground beneath our very feet is razor sharp, and yet…” Merlin gestures at the teeming life that surrounds them.

X: None of this is supposed to be here. None of this should exist. 

S: Cleo nods empathetically, totally focused on Merlin, listening to him process his thoughts. And only when it seems as though he’s finished speaking does she say, (Cleo) “We couldn’t have known. No one had any idea. I don’t think anyone is going to look poorly on your past research at all – in fact, quite the opposite! You are probably going to be the first person to publish any kind of academic paper about places like this. You are going to be the one to fill in the academic community that something like this even exists!” 

M: Merlin’s brow crinkles a little bit at the kind words Cleo is speaking.

S: (Cleo) “You could name this lake after yourself. Merlin Lake!” She sees a smile working its way across Merlin’s features, and her own smile brightens in response. 

M: (Merlin) “No, you’re, you’re absolutely right. It’s the whole reason we’re here, isn’t it? To find new things, to discover what’s out there, and…” 

S: (Cleo) “Exactly, right?” 

M: (Merlin) “Here I am, being selfish about–” 

S: (Cleo) “Oh my gosh, no, not selfish! I, I can’t imagine what you’re going through after thinking things were one way, and… It’s gotta be complicated for you, but I know that you’re gonna make the best of it.” 

M: (Merlin) “Thank you,” Merlin says. 

S: (Cleo) “Well, I think I’m gonna go check on Dot now.” 

M: Merlin quirks an eyebrow. (Merlin) “’Dot?”

[Gently lapping water]

X: Taking a slow walk around the lagoon, passing by Everett and Micky, who themselves are traipsing around the, uh, waterline here, the Granddaughter is contemplatively rolling red pearls in their gloved hand as they walk, listening to the chirping of birds, observing the slithering of strange multicolored eels.

S: Their keen ears also pick up the soft, skipping footsteps of Cleophee approaching them over the soft sand. (Cleo) “Hey, Dot! Are you collecting these pearls, too? I was just talking to Merlin, and he thinks it’s the way that the lichen seals off mica from the air, and that’s why it’s so clean and breathable. Isn’t that cool?”

X: They look surprised, mildly, to hear their strange nickname once again foisted on them. 

S: (Cleo) “You can add the ones you’ve collected to my basket if you want, so you don’t have to carry them around.” Apparently they’re walking together now. Okay. 

X: The bioluminescent fairytale princess and the abyssal witch apprentice. Ah, what a pair. 

S: (Cleo) “What do you think of all this?”

X: The Granddaughter’s eyes dart over. What does that mean? Is it that obvious? (Granddaughter) “I, I don’t–”

S: (Cleo) “I mean, it must be pretty different from where you’re from – the Coenobium?”

X: Oh, okay. Close one. The Granddaughter nods. (Granddaughter) “This is not at all like the Coenobium. The Coenobium is very…dark compared to this.”

S: (Cleo) “Oh, will you please tell me a little bit about it? I’m so terribly curious!”

X: (Granddaughter) “About the Coenobium?”

S: (Cleo) “Yeah!” 

X: (Granddaughter) “It is where I’ve spent most of my life, training in study to become a Mother.”

S: (Cleo) “Wow…”

X: (Granddaughter) “I’ve been a… We call them, we call ourselves Daughters.” 

S: (Cleo) “Daughters…” 

X: (Granddaughter) “Most of my life… but now I am next in line to become a Mother, so I am now the Granddaughter.”

S: (Cleo) “So you’re like…like the most senior Daughter?” 

X: (Granddaughter) “Yes.” 

S: (Cleo) “Daughter royalty!”

X: (Granddaughter) “No.”

S: (Cleo) “Oh, well. That’s just my imagination running away with things again.” 

X: (Granddaughter) “I have been in the darkness and the silence of the Coenobium for a long time, preparing for this.”

S: (Cleo) “Silence? Is that– Is that why you talk so quietly? Oh my gosh, do I, do I hurt your ears when I’m just speaking at a normal volume?” 

X: (Granddaughter) “No, not at all.”

S: (Cleo) [gasps] “Oh, I do, don’t I?? I am so sorry – oh gosh, and I’m even more loud when I’m apologetic. I will get it together, don’t worry.”

X: (Granddaughter) “It’s all right, I’m trying to get used to new things. This is all very new to me. I’ve never done anything like this. I don’t think you have–” Uh, they seem to kind of shake themselves for a sec. “I don’t believe that you have either. Isn’t that true?”

S: (Cleo) “Well, I’ve traveled here and there, but always in the Fold, usually just in my own barony.” 

X: (Granddaughter) “You’re from Ebonreef?” 

S: (Cleo) “That’s right, yes. Um, specifically the islet of Guilemoth, named for…my own family, I know, I know.” 

X: (Granddaughter) “So you are a princess.”

S: Cleo…blushes? (Cleo) “I don’t know. Technically? Maybe? It’s my aunt Nixie who’s the baron right now, so if anyone’s a princess I guess it would be some of my cousins. There are a lot of us. My family is really big.”

X: (Granddaughter) “How many siblings do you have?”

S: (Cleo) “Six direct siblings, and then, like, a lot of cousins. A lot, a lot. I mean, with two dads and four moms and eighteen aunts and uncles, your family kind of grows fast. But, uh, the islet of Guilemoth itself is – have you ever been? No, stupid question.”

X: (Granddaughter) “I’ve never been anywhere outside of the Coenobium.”

S: (Cleo) “Oh, well you have to come visit after the voyage is over! You would love it, it’s… I think it’s more to your taste. For one thing, it’s a bit darker. But it’s so beautiful, it’s so colorful. We have…how do I describe this?” 

M: The princess and the goth stand at the shoreline, taking it in, conversing gently.

S: (Cleo) “Uh, let me try backing up. So Ebonreef is named for THE Ebonreef, you know, the vast glowing coral that spreads through the whole barony? Guilemoth – the islet of Guilemoth – is nestled more or less in the middle, right in one of these negative space pockets that the reef has, and so the reef is always in view in the sky, surrounding us, shining softly, shifting through all these colors. You get used to it, but… I kind of miss it now, talking about it.” 

M: Cleo gets a faraway look on her face.

S: (Cleo) “Ebonreef is quite a ways downcurrent from Midst, so we’re actually getting closer every day. I’ll be leaving the expedition at Brocheroug and taking a foldmersible home from there.”

X: (Granddaughter) “Brocheroug? That is the last place we’re stopping before the Delta, right?”

S: (Cleo) “Right. My barony figured, with the Delta being so well-documented compared to all the other places we’re going, I wouldn’t really be learning much by tagging along for that part of the journey. Everybody already knows the Delta’s horrible!”

M: Realizing what she just said, she turns to the Granddaughter in a panic.

S: (Cleo) “Oh, but, I – I’m sure you’ll all be fine! The Ship can handle anything! It’s just that I don’t have any applicable expertise, so there’s not much point. Honestly, I wish I COULD go all the way with you. But…the arrangements are already made.”

M: Cleo picks up another pearl.

S: (Cleo) “Wow, I just can’t get over how pretty these things are!”

X: Speaking of pretty things, this whole lagoon oasis is pretty stunning, but it is getting more and more stunning by the moment. Something is happening here in the lagoon, something that is attracting the attention of the crew.

[Wondrous music]

M: Under the surface of the underlit lake, some reflective fish-like critters are starting to gather, it seems. Not too far from Cleo and Dot, as it turns out. 

X: (Naturalist) “It’s– are they– is it a breeding thing? What are they doing? Everybody come look at this,” the naturalist calls. 

S: (Cleo) “Ooh, a mating display? I love those!” 

M: These eels, or whatever they are, are breaching the surface of the water, bursting forth with long, flowing, tendril-like filamentous fins.

X: There’s leaping, a spray of rainbow mist.

S: (Cleo) [gasps]

X: The whole thing is kinda turning into a sort of a kind of a Lisa Frank poster here. This is, this is getting, uh, pretty fabulous. 

S: It totally is a mating display. And the crew is here just in time to see it. What beautiful serendipity. 

X: The naturalist, taking notes, sketching furiously. Merlin, observing with cosmological intrigue gleaming in his eye, 

M: frantically making notes in a tiny pocketbook. 

S: Kanneken in an absolute excited panic, trying to set up their camera. 

X: Drewrey Hambing, sproinging from rock to rock, shouting, (Hambing) “Boy, this is fun! Wow!” Felix Hustleworth, glowering, 

S: checking his watch, a twenty-minute process.

X: Ship designers, technicians, the gunners. Quino Del Belsaban rolling his cart of food and hors d’oeuvres out of the prow of the Ship. (Quino) “Say, would anyone care to have a little bit of lunch – my goodness, what have I interrupted?”

S: (Naturalist) “Don’t feed the wildlife!” shouts the naturalist. 

X: A true display of camaraderie, cosmological interest, scientific observation, and biodiversity gone wild, here in the upper limits of the cosmos. And folks, this journey’s only getting started. What a time to be alive! 

S: (Cleo) “Wow, would you look at that, Dot! Dot?”

[The music fades] 

X: The Granddaughter has retreated from the scene and has wandered away into an area of quiet ferns, 

S: a weeping willow-like enclosure of these rosy lichens. 

X: Rousing voices, cheers, hoots and hollers, exclamations of scientific delight echoing in the geode-like cavern as the Granddaughter quietly disappears between ferns, their heart pounding, their vision blurring, tears streaming down their face, absolute fucking panic spreading through every inch of their body. 

S: As they listen to the rest of the crew gasp and cheer and ooh and ahh over the glory and beauty of nature just a few steps away, they hyperventilate and clench their hands and sweat. There are no distractions, no soothing meditations like a sink of dishes to divert their panic with…THIS time.

X: They clamp their hands over their eyes, trying to secure that darkness, that nothingness, that emptiness. (Granddaughter) “Don’t think, don’t think, don’t think, don’t think. Shut up, shut up. No, no, no, no, no.” [gasping sobs]

S: This moment of privacy won’t last forever, and they know it. They are efficient with their time. 

M: With a practiced deep breath and a swift wiping of their eyes, the Granddaughter is back to normal.

X: (Granddaughter) “Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t think,” they repeat to themself, an icy mantra, as they return back through the ferns, rejoining the group beside the lagoon, Cleo turning to face them, a beaming smile on her face. 

S: (Cleo) “Oh, there you are! I was wondering where you went. Look at this! Isn’t this all so amazing? Aren’t you so glad you got to come on this adventure?”

X: (Granddaughter) “Yes, I am,” the Granddaughter lies.