Narrator X: Astride bocular hosses, riders canter through the weird streets of an underfold city. 

[A rhythmic baseline. Mechanical squeals. Crowded urban ambience.] 

Narrator S: Our riders trot through bustling clangorous avenues shrouded in the eternal dark fog of the Fold, but warmly lit by the pulsing, flickering, gently erratic fluctuations of fold-safe lights. 

Narrator M: There are many different kinds of fold-safe lights, everything from specially-engineered lightbulbs from competing manufacturers, to natural light sources like mushrooms and lumeprey jars. 

X: Clouds of warm steam gush from street grates. Priathic and electric cables swing in the air. 

S: Workers linger in open garages and foundries. 

M: Windows glimmer in old brick facades.

X: Foldmersibles wind slowly through the dark fog above the streets. 

S: There’s a very industrial feel here. The air smells of metal, smoke, and strange exhaust fumes. 

X: The many residents and pedestrians here in the street are very excited to see this particular posse come to town. Folks all around are waving, pointing, shouting hello, shouting (Folks) “Oh my goodness, it’s the crew of the Ship!”

S: Crawling over each other, trying to get high fives, autographs. 

M: People are bringing newspapers to have them sign. Banners declare “Welcome Crew!” 

S: It’s the same old Launch Day hullabaloo that they had at Stationary Hill, and again at the Highest Light, and again at the Uppermost Outpost. 

X: It’s just something that kind of happens every time the Ship has a little stopover in civilization.

S: You know – historic, incredibly important cosmic significance and all that. 

X: Singular one-of-a-kind magic ship exploring the limits of the cosmos – you understand, you, y’know. It’s that again. 

M: And it’s not like the crew is getting tired of this.

S: Oh, no!

M: Not by a long shot. You do come to expect it after a while. It’s normalizing for them.

S: Cleo, riding side-saddle atop her bocular hoss, is beaming, waving, taking time to say something nice and heartfelt to everyone who approaches her. 

X: Now that we’re back in the Fold, Cleo’s bioluminescence is fully visible once again, 

S: pulses of light dancing along the cotton-candy-pink strands of her silky hair, twinkling in the freckles of her green skin.

M: Her hair once again wafts and billows with this underwater, mermaidy weightlessness. 

X: Omelet is draped around her shoulders, cuddling in the safety of Cleo’s embrace, watching the crowd with wide eyes. 

S: Cleo attracts many admiring stares. 

M: So does Omelet. 

X: Different groups of folks on different hosses are slowly breaking away from the group, different teams doing errands, the kitchen crew separating here to head into a nice night market to grab a little bit of, uh, a few ingredients for tonight’s dinner.

S: It’s always a night market. Even during the day. 

M: They’re picking up some fresh fold catch while the gettin’s good. 

S: Drewrey Hambing, the tearrorologist, is off to learn more about the way that they do fracking here on Ackute. (Hambing) “Mother Artifice, did you know they use tearrors for fracking? We have to go see this! Come with me!”

X: (Mother Artifice) “THAT DOES SOUND LIKE A UNIQUE SPECTACLE, AND ONE WHICH I WOULD ENJOY TO PERCEIVE. LEAD THE WAY, HAMBING. ENJOY THE REST OF YOUR SHORE LEAVE, EVERYONE. WE WILL SEE YOU BACK ABOARD THE SHIP.” 

S: Ruggles, Bowie, Amos, Merlin, Kanneken, and a bunch of the science folks, the naturalist, the botanist, etcetera, are all off together to a press interview to talk about the science of the journey and the engineering of the Ship.

M: And after not long at all, there’s just a trio of them.

X: Everett and Micky, doubled up, sitting astride Ol’ Smoker together here, sticking with Cleo to show her around, since it is Cleo’s first-ever time to Ackute. 

S: And it’s Everett and Micky’s, like, a hundredth time or something. Probably not that much, but they’ve been here a lot.

X: Ackute is a very common stop for them on their normal everyday Stagecoach shipping routes, under normal circumstances. 

S: It’s been a fun afternoon so far. Nearly the whole crew have disembarked for shore leave. Shopping, running errands, seeing the sights, stretching their legs. 

X: Everett and Micky have already completed a few errands. They grabbed a few components from a shipwright pal here in town, some necessities in their efforts to repair the various high-altitude mica damage that the Stagecoach incurred during its daring sloop rescue. 

S: Oof, they’re still workin’ on that, huh? 

X: Yeah, the Stagecoach is pretty banged up. 

M: Mica is serious business.

S: And now they’re all getting a little bit hungry. Time to grab some food. They’re heading over to a spot that Everett and Micky are familiar with. 

X: Kiki’s Cantina, where Everett and Micky are explaining now, they actually had their first date over a decade ago. And today, incidentally, happens to be their anniversary.

S: Micky is telling the story. 

M: (Micky) “I’m originally from Sequester. Everett was running deliveries to Sequester from Midst, and I was doing deliveries to Midst from Sequester. So when the Postal Express was looking for a pilot and a navigator to fly its new Stagecoach together, we both applied, and the rest is history.”

S: Cleo is listening intently. She loves hearing stories about how couples got together. It’s like top five of her favorite things to hear about, as far as conversation topics go. (Cleo) “So, Everett, you’re from Midst, then?”

X: (Everett) “Born and raised. My mom and my uncle founded Stationary Hill’s Post Office. They were both, uh, some of the islet’s first residents. Them, Goe…”

S: (Cleo) “Oh, gosh. Then you must have been ON Midst when the moon…” 

X: Everett nods, riding along on Ol’ Smoker here beside Cleo. (Everett) “Yeah, I was just a kid though. My mom and I got out in time. Um, I lost my uncle Ogden though. He, uh, he stuck me and my mom on a ship and he went back to get some other people to help them evacuate and he didn’t make it out.”

S: (Cleo) “Oh, I’m… I’m so sorry.”

X: (Everett) “It’s okay. It was a long time ago. Ogden was a great guy. He loved flying. He is actually the one who taught me how to fly in the first place. I owe it to him that I’m even, uh, part of the Stagecoach. That I even know Micky.” 

M: Micky has a soft smile, piloting Ol’ Smoker.

S: Navigating, really. 

X: (Everett) “Actually–” Everett looks at Cleo with some interest. “You might like this. Uh, Ogden loved flying so much that, uh, before I was born, he got stuck in this tearror that made him fly permanently.” 

S: (Cleo) “Oh, really? I actually have an uncle who can fly, too! How fast could your uncle go?”

X: (Everett) [laughs] “No, he was – I shouldn’t say flying, it was more of like a floating situation.”

S: (Cleo) “Oh! Well, that’s still very cool.”

X: Hey, look at this. They are rolling up to Kiki’s Cantina. They dismount their hosses, tie them up at a little hoss post, and hop in a glass elevator, which they begin to ride up the side of the building. 

[Elevator rumbling]

S: The glass is a little dingy, smeared with soot on the outside, but it still offers a spectacular view of the scenario.

M: You’ve probably been wondering where we even are. 

S: We were withholding information in order to increase intrigue, but now is the time to zoom out. 

M: The Ship is docked at the islet of Ackute, in the barony of the First Fathom. 

S: This is our one stop in Fold civilization before we go whole-ass down into the depths.

X: Ackute is mountainous, forested, rich in metallic ores,

M: and the whole islet got fracked in half a long time ago. On purpose. To facilitate easier fracking. 

S: Its two hemispheres are now held together by this chaotic latticework of bridges, elevators, industrial scaffolds and cranes and cargo. 

X: An unbroken, congested, smog-filled cityscape clings to the interior of each of the islet’s internal faces, mirroring each other, held in place by a unique and definitely somewhat fold-assisted gravity situation.

M: Don’t think about it too hard. 

X: The vista unfolds outside of the glass elevator, as our trio here – plus Omelet, who could forget – arrive at the lobby of Kiki’s.

[Jazzy swing music. Festive crowd hubbub.] 

S: Kiki’s Cantina is at the top of a tall building, offering a nice 360-degree wraparound vista. 

M: Sort of this panoramic lounge situation. 

X: The name may sound deceptively humble, but this is actually kind of a fancy restaurant – fancy for Ackute, not fancy for, say, the Highest Light. 

M: It has this sort of swanky smooth panorama lounge situation going for it.

X: Smoke billowing by the windows outside. Through the skylights above, one can see the other half of the city hanging on high above, encrusting the inner face of the islet’s opposing other hemisphere.

S: Cleo looks upon the industrial cityscape above and below, into the mega frack canyons, and also beholds the Ship looming in the dock over yonder. What a scene! 

X: The cantina host sidles over to greet them. (Host) “Welcome to Kiki’s. We’re closed for a private event today.”

S: She smiles warmly at Cleo in particular, then.

X: (Host) “Oh, but excuse me, you must be part of the Guilemoth party.” 

S: (Cleo) “The…the what?” 

M: (Unidentified speaker) “Oh, Cleo!” 

S: A voice sings over the din of Kiki’s. 

X: Whaaat the fuck…? 

S: And gliding over to them is a…well, a spectacular woman. 

M: Tall, curvaceous, gorgeous, with a nearly floor-length braid of thick honey-colored hair woven with gold rings.

X: She’s wearing a skintight dress of shimmering golden fabric, which pools on the ground and trails behind her like a river of molten metal.

S: A cloud of delicious caramelly perfume washes over the newcomers, preceding the woman’s actual arrival. 

X: Her skin glows with a languid, calming, golden bioluminescence especially concentrated in her palms and fingers. 

M: (Unidentified speaker) “Cousin Cleo, my darling! I was crossing my fingers we’d end up in Ackute at the same time!”

S: She goes in to give Cleo a hug, but Cleo is, uh, quite surprised, and squirms out of it as soon as possible to continue the conversation. (Cleo) “Aha, ha, wow! Aurelia! Uh, yes, oh my gosh, I had no idea you would be here! Why? Uh, why? How? What?” 

M: (Aurelia) “Cleo, Cleo, Cleo, this is the engagement party! The whole town is here!” 

S: (Cleo) “You’re engaged?”

M: (Aurelia) “Yes! To an Ackute local, a charming young man, oh, you’ll love him! I have to introduce you. He was affected by this tearror, uh, last year? He now has this, just, eidetic memory for all forms of fiction. But it’s – it’s so beautiful, so wonderful to see you! Who are your charming friends?”

X: (Everett) “Ha ha hiii!” 

S: Everett steps right up, extending her hand.

X: (Everett) “Everett Shearwater. How do you do?”

S: (Aurelia) “A pleasure, a pleasure. Welcome!”

X: (Everett) “This is my lovely wife, Micky Fluke.”

S: (Micky) “Hey, how you doin’,” says Micky. (Cleo) “Micky and Everett are the pilot and navigator of the Stagecoach, the Ship’s, um, lifeboat!” 

M: (Aurelia) “Oh, sort of a ship within a ship! How fun!” 

S: (Cleo) “Right, yeah!” 

M: (Aurelia) “How’s that going for you, by the way? Oh my goodness!”

X: (Everett) “Oh, it’s been great so far,” Everett says, smiling winningly. 

S: Behind Aurelia, the cantina is warmly and richly decorated, and a crowd is milling there, festive and tipsy, laughing and chatting. 

X: This looks like a fun and festive event. Whoa!

S: Well, the Guilemoths are very magical and wonderful! Any islet would be honored to host them.

M: Speaking of magic and wonderful, Aurelia is being very touchy-feely, the way she greets everyone with a touch on the arm or a hug. Her hands are very warm. 

X: Everett shakes her head for a sec, feeling immediately a surge of well-being upon contact with Aurelia. It is not subtle at all. (Everett) “Whoa,” Everett says, feeling kind of a head rush. Micky seems to be feeling it, too. (Everett) “Wh-whoa! What, what’s…” 

S: The touch of Aurelia’s warm, warm palm still lingering on her shoulder. 

M: (Aurelia) “It’s just my gift from the Fold. I’m so blessed to be able to spread joy and good feeling through just a touch! I consider it a great privilege, and one I’m more than happy to share. Please, come join the party. How long are you here for?”

S: And they all get swept in, Cleo’s association with the Guilemoths giving them essentially a free ticket to this elite private party. 

X: Everett and Micky certainly aren’t bothered. This is, uh, way more than they were expecting to find at Kiki’s. 

S: It’s always fun to crash a party, and this one is not just any party. There are some important guests here, one can gather, looking around. What fun!

M: Aurelia throws her hands wide. (Aurelia) “Oh, and you’re just in time! Please, come in, come in! The cake is about to come out.”

X: An enormous cake is wheeled into the room, 

[Crowd cheering] 

S: intricate sugarwork and whorls of frosting decorating its every tier.

X: Crazy spirally sparkler candles are lit. 

S: The Fold, which swirls seamlessly through exterior and interior spaces alike, twists and dances around each brightly sparkling flame. 

M: It creates these candles of both light and swirling, excited darkness. The fold within Kiki’s is, like the guests, also excited by the cake.

S: Aurelia breezily introduces them to a few people – 

X: to a fancy and fabulous menagerie of folks – 

M: the first being some ranger from the United Barony’s Department of the Exterior 

S: wearing a cute little dusky purple felt hat with a D.o.t.E. crest on it. 

X: Everett and Micky have plenty of questions for her about Fold navigation.

M: (Ranger) “Current conditions are fairly clear. We’re still a little early for wail migration, but always good to keep an eye out. Could be anywhere in the depths!” 

S: And who’s this? Why, perhaps the most-high profile party guest of them all – 

X: Baron Buttercombe D. Papelldumere of the First Fathom. 

M: He’s this barrel-chested, just, chungus of a man

S: with massive ornately-sculpted facial hair, glorious muttonchops that practically wrap around his whole head. 

X: (Baron Papelldumere) “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Cleophee Guilemoth! We all wish you the best of luck and the finest of felicitations upon this occasion of your journey into the limits of the cosmos!”

S: The Baron might be a few drinks in.

M: He’s having a great time.

X: A server swings through the conversation, clearly busy, but excited to proffer a tray of brightly glowing, shimmering, oyster-like meats in nacreous shells. 

S: Aurelia beckons Cleo over to a relatively less-crowded area of the cantina. 

M: They crowd around a hightop table.

X: Everett and Micky separate to take a seat at the bar to give Cleo a little space, a little time with her cousin.

M: (Aurelia) “We have to catch up. It’s been too long!”

S: (Cleo) “Yes, so long! I mean, I missed that you were even engaged!”

M: (Aurelia) “Oh, did you not receive an invitation?”

S: (Cleo) “I’ve been on a ship.” 

M: (Aurelia) “That’s so funny, I’m sorry! All of these details have just gotten so complicated. This is only one party, obviously. This is for the Ackute side of the family.”

S: (Cleo) “So, is there going to be another engagement party on Guilemoth?”

M: (Aurelia) “Oh yes, of course. But you’ll probably still be on your trip thing, won’t you?”

S: (Cleo) “Depends when you’re having it. I might be free. I’m not going with the rest of the crew to the Delta, remember? I’m getting off at Brocheroug right after we return from the depths.”

X: Aurelia looks thrilled. She leans in across the table, beaming at Cleo. 

M: (Aurelia) “How IS my ittle bitty wittle cousin, Phee-Phee?” 

S: (Cleo) “Aurelia! Quiet! I’ve got my coworkers around! Uh, things, things are good, things are really good. It’s been…amazing. I can’t even describe the things that I’ve experienced.”

X: And in some cases, definitely WON’T describe.

M: (Aurelia) “I’m so glad that you’re able to go out and DO something. You know, I think it’s so cute and so admirable that you have this little job to do! Are you having fun, at least?” 

S: (Cleo) “So much fun.” 

M: (Aurelia) “Are you making friends?” 

S: (Cleo) “Tons of friends!”

M: (Aurelia) “Does anyone KNOW?”

S: (Cleo) “Shh, Aurelia! No, no one knows. Please be quiet.” 

X: Cleo’s eyes dart to Everett and Micky at the bar. No, it’s fine. They’re busy. They’re ordering up some Ackute brews over there. They’re not listening. 

M: (Aurelia) “Honestly, it’s probably so good for you to be around people that are, you know, more LIKE you. You know I’m an empath, and I’m always worried about you cooped up back at home, you know, with nothing to do, the rest of us just so busy all the time…”

S: (Cleo) “Oh, you’re so sweet.” 

M: (Aurelia) “You were just always looking at your picture books, reading fairytales about the Un…”

S: (Cleo) [chuckles]

X: A foldmersible cruises by outside, the flickering beams of its fold-safe headlamps passing through the dining room. Everett does pop by now, just for a moment. She’s got a plate of aperitivos in one hand, a drink in the other. (Everett) “Hello, just dropping these off for you. They’re about to, well, these are some of the last ones. Wouldn’t want you to miss these.”

S: (Cleo) “You’re so thoughtful, Everett!” Cleo says, reaching forward, and Omelet makes a dive for one of the morsels before he can be stopped, immediately devouring it. 

X: Then throws up just as suddenly.

M: (Aurelia) “Oh, and here’s a little…Egg? Yolk?”

S: (Cleo) “Omelet, Aurelia!”

X: Everett laughs.

M: (Aurelia) “Did you know, Everett – Phee-Phee only used to be able to fall asleep when she had a stuffed animal!”

S: (Cleo) “Oh my gosh!”

M: (Aurelia) “I’m so glad you get to keep your little stuffy so close to you on your big scary ride!”

X: (Everett) “Ah, it’s fine, I understand the feeling. I have a stuffy I sleep with every night, too. She’s sitting at the bar over there. Speaking of which…” Everett sidles away. 

S: (Cleo) “So, Aurelia, why didn’t you tell me that you were going to have an engagement party somewhere the Ship would be passing through? I… I could have brought you a present! I would have, I would have put on a better dress!”

M: (Aurelia) “This part came up so last-minute. You know how these things go. I wasn’t trying to upstage you or anything! It was just–”

S: (Cleo) “That’s not what I was trying to imply, Aurelia. I just, you know, I just…want to be able to support you!” 

M: (Aurelia) “Of course, and I’m so delighted by the coincidence that we could both be here at the same time!”

S: (Cleo) “No one is more delighted than me! Yes, yes, it’s so, so-so-so great. It’s so great. This is so great!”

M: (Aurelia) “Oh goodness, the Baron’s wife is waving to me. I might have to go keep mingling, but you–” 

S: (Cleo) “Of course, of course, you go! This is your party!” 

M: (Aurelia) “You have fun. Make sure your friends have fun. It’s truly–”

S: (Cleo) “I will.”

M: (Aurelia) “–so, so good that you could stop by, Phee-Phee.”

S: (Cleo) “Amazing to see family in the middle of this voyage. I thought I wouldn’t be seeing all of you for so much longer.”

M: (Aurelia) “Well, buh-bye.”

X: With a little hug, a little kiss on each cheek and a flip of her bioluminescent hair, Aurelia turns and slinks glamorously back into the crowd. 

S: Everett and Micky are having a great time. They have discovered Aurelia’s spouse-to-be, 

X: the one with the apparently incredible eidetic memory for fiction. Everett is hyped. (Everett) “You can use your incredible new memory to just memorize all of Unsmoke! I wish– I wish I could!”

S: The man is a little flustered. (Fiance) “Well, I’m not actually that INTO fiction, I just…” Cleo, now alone at the hightop, straightens her skirts, gives Omelet a little scratch, and strides across the room to where Everett and Micky are conversing. (Cleo) “Um, hey guys! You stay here and keep doing what you’re doing – it’s your anniversary, after all. I actually need to bop back to the Ship for something I forgot.”

X: Everett looks a little surprised. (Everett) “You sure? You good?” 

S: (Cleo) “Y– oh yeah, yeah, absolutely! You do what you’re doing. The two of you are so cute.” 

X: (Everett) “Oh, thanks! It takes one to know one.”

S: (Cleo) [giggles]

X: (Everett) “Well, uh, okay! Yeah. We’ll–”

S: (Cleo) “I’ll catch you later. I might come back, I might not, we’ll just see how the timing shakes out. But you stay! Have fun! Drink up! Enjoy the canapes! And – happy anniversary, you two.”

[The jazzy music fades away into a dark ambience.] 

M: Dark fog swirls outside the supernatural substance of the Ship’s dark mica walls as Cleo comes back aboard,

X: dooring into a two-stage airlock,

M: a new thing they’ve been implementing since submerging into the Fold.

S: The Ship is in the Fold, but the Fold is not in the Ship. This is very unusual. No other ships in history have had this fold-tight construction, because no other ships in history have been made of dark mica. 

X: As we’ve seen in Kiki’s Cantina, when you are in the Fold, whether you are indoors, outdoors, or inside of a foldmersible, the Fold is there with you as well.

S: It’s not like water. You can’t just close a hatch and keep it out. 

M: Not counting specially-thickened fold isolate and certain types of tearrors, the Fold at large can pass effortlessly between the very molecules of most solid materials to infiltrate any and every enclosure. Every enclosure, that is, except a certain dark mica ship making its way to the limits of the cosmos. 

S: Dark mica is built different.

X: We’re not in the Un anymore, and that bright, harsh light we’ve been getting used to outside the windows of the Ship is extremely gone. 

S: Ackute’s industrial twilight cityscape glimmers outside, enshrouded in swirling inky fog and oily smog alike. 

M: Cleo leaves that smog to enter the hushed nighttime mood that pervades the atrium.

S: Fold-safe lights glow dimly in light fixtures, and the Foldlight, not currently needed to propel or control the Ship, has itself been elevated back up from Control to once again occupy the middle of the atrium’s central conversation pit.

[Muffled aquarium-like bubbling.] 

X: The atrium is silent, empty, all other crew either below decks doing technical things to prepare for the continuation of the journey, or ashore, enjoying the city’s attractions.

S: Cleo has no further reason to do either of those things, 

M: and she wanders morosely over to the Foldlight and slumps into the curve of the recessed conversation pit couch. 

S: The Foldlight glows and thrums quietly, radiating a soft fireplace-like warmth. 

M: The black ferrofluid-like fold amalgam lava-lamps languidly within.

S: (Cleo) [sighs] “Now what, Omelet?”

X: Cleo asks, stroking her little guy’s yellow fur despondently, 

S: as she notices she’s not actually alone.

[A pensive guitar melody.] 

X: A black-caped, almost invisible shadow sits in solitary contemplation before the Foldlight on the other side of the conversation pit, their eyes closed. 

M: They are not wearing their hat. They are not wearing their gloves either. And their hands are folded meditatively on their lap. 

S: They are breathing slowly, methodically. 

X: Perhaps meditating. 

S: Cleo tenses up. (Cleo) “Oh, whoops! I’m so sorry. I’ll leave you to it.” 

X: (Granddaughter) “It’s all right. You are welcome to stay.”

M: Their eyes remain closed.

S: Cleo hesitates, but then she gets up and tentatively circles the pit to stand beside the Granddaughter. (Cleo) “C-Could I…maybe sit with you?” 

X: (Granddaughter) “Yes.”

M: Cleo sits beside the Granddaughter. The Granddaughter does not open their eyes. 

S: Cleo looks down into her lap. Omelet slithers himself off of her shoulders to pool there, looking up at her with his liquid black eyes. (Cleo) “Hey. I think I need to apologize to you. I just decided to call you Dot because I… I don’t know, I thought it would make it feel like we were friends or something? Friends call each other nicknames, you know? But I never asked your permission, and I said that ‘the Granddaughter’ was too inconvenient to say, and that was just… really shitty and disrespectful and just not okay for me to do. I guess that leaving your name behind must be a really important part of the whole Mothers thing, and I’ve just been ignoring that because it made ME feel like I was making friends. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

X: The Granddaughter slowly half-opens their eyes. 

M: The Foldlight pulses, glows in the dark of the atrium like Christmas lights, glimmering, reflecting, in their lidded gaze. 

X: (Granddaughter) “I am…not unhappy about the nickname. I have spent most of my life learning to separate myself from thought and from feeling. And you need not worry. Unhappiness is something that I no longer experience.”

M: They look at Cleo, who betrays no apparent recollection of any recent events that might disprove this statement.

X: (Dot) “You have my permission to call me Dot.”

S: (Cleo) “Really??” Cleo looks relieved and grateful and bashful all at once. “Do you– do you mean that? I have to admit it would be really hard to break the habit now, and it’s even starting to catch on with the other members of the crew. I’m still… I’m still sorry for the way I pushed it onto you, but if, if it’s really okay, I would love to keep calling you Dot. I think it’s really cute!” 

M: Omelet has been sniffing at the hem of Dot’s sleeve, and around this time decides to snake curiously over into their cloaked lap. He coils up into a tight cinnamon roll sort of shape and starts purring. 

S: With her lap now empty, Cleo hugs her knees up to her chest and stares into the gleaming depths of the Foldlight for a minute. (Cleo) [sighs] “I had a really bad day. I kind of… would like to talk to somebody about it. I feel like I can talk to you. Can I? Talk to you?”

X: The Granddaughter is looking at the Foldlight, not at Cleo. (Dot) “Yes.” 

S: (Cleo) “Thanks. So, as everybody knows, um, everyone in my family can do…incredible things. Cousin Aurelia makes people happy by touching them. My sister Anemone can watch other people’s dreams and even change them if she wants to. My sister Daphne can always tell if someone is lying. Aunt Grisette can tame any wild animal just by looking at it. Aunt Nixie and Aunt Trixie can shapeshift. Uncle Gloaming can fly! Only in the Fold, but still.”

X: The Granddaughter is listening. 

S: (Cleo) “And this isn’t just luck. For however many generations, my family has had kind of this tradition of… uh, collecting people? Curating a menagerie of talents. If they hear about anyone in the Fold who was born with an interesting ability, or someone who stumbled into a tearror and ended up with fairy wings, they… court them. They find a way to bring them into the family. And this has been going on long enough that nowadays every new child of the Guilemoth lineage is blessed with fantastic Fold gifts from the moment they’re born. All of them… except me. I’m a dud.”

[Emotional synth melody]

X: (Dot) “What about your lights?” they ask, obviously referring to Cleo’s glowing spots and the aurora of bioluminescence flowing through her hair.

S: (Cleo) “Oh, those don’t DO anything! They’re just vestigial nonsense! They don’t cause tearrors, which I guess I am grateful for, but other than that, they’re just window dressing, really. MOST people in my family are bioluminescent. It’s barely even considered interesting anymore!” 

X: The Granddaughter continues to slowly pet Omelet. 

S: (Cleo) “I’ve been lying to everybody! Everyone on this ship must think I’m here because I’m the best of my family, but I’m not. I’m not even the second-best or third-best. I’m the one they could spare. No one else even wanted to come! They don’t care about some ship when they can breed their own miracles right at home! They just wanted the Guilemoth name attached to it, since all the other big players were tripping over themselves to get involved. If my Granny Elodea was still alive, she might have cared, but… she’s been gone for a while. I miss her so much.”

X: The Foldlight pulses and glows. The fold swirls within. 

S: (Cleo) “Ever since I set foot on the Ship, I’ve felt kind of how Granny used to make me feel, just so admired and respected and, just, special. Just the way I am. And I guess I like feeling that way. And it sucks being reminded that people are only impressed by me because they don’t really know me.”

M: Where someone else might ask a follow-up question, the Granddaughter just listens. 

S: Cleo looks to Dot. (Cleo) “Ugh, I can’t believe I just said all that. Can you please not tell anyone? I really don’t want anyone else to know. I’m afraid they wouldn’t like me anymore. I’m afraid everyone would be really disappointed in me. Do you… ever feel like that? Like if you let people find out who you truly are, it would just… ruin everything?” 

[Melody ends]

X: The Granddaughter has continued to stare into the Foldlight this whole time, but now their gaze tracks slowly to Cleo.

M: Eye contact.

[A tentative combination of two musical themes.] 

S: And then Cleo clutches her face in embarrassment. (Cleo) “Oh, what am I saying? You’re amazing. You’re the coolest person ever. You’re going to be a Mother someday soon! I’m sorry I’m such a mess and I’m dumping all this on you out of nowhere. I hope YOU still like me. If you… liked me to start with, that is.” 

M: The Foldlight flickers on her face like strange candlelight, casting long flickering shadows over the polished atrium floor.

X: The Granddaughter takes a slow, deep breath. (Dot) “As Granddaughter, I have been trained not to–”

S: The Foldlight clanks and begins to elevator down into the floor, retracting down to the control deck to commence the Ship’s pre-departure warm up sequence.

M: There’s a flurry of laughter and chatter as a big group of crew, including Shanamarian, door into the atrium from the bow deck, returning from their shore leave. 

S: Cleo and Dot jump a little bit, startled and embarrassed for no discernible reason. 

X: Omelet goes galloping across the room, zooming up the atrium stairs to the dining balcony above, hooting with unknowable passions.

S: The Granddaughter stands, pulling on their gloves. 

X: (Dot) “I won’t tell anyone on the crew what you told me, Cleo. You needn’t worry. Everyone on this ship thinks… that you are very good… and admirable.”

M: And they glide away to the elevator. 

S: (Cleo) “But, Dot…” Cleo murmurs quietly once they are out of earshot, “I wanna know what YOU think.”