X: (Mother Artifice) “YOU ARE NOT DISTRACTED FROM YOUR PURPOSE. YOU ARE WAYLAID BY NO OBSTACLE. YOU ARE SAFELY AND SUCCESSFULLY NAVIGATING THIS SHIP BACK TO MIDST.” 

M: An elevator descends past, then pauses, then returns. It doors open, and Micky steps into Control. She’s got a bucket of silverware in one hand, borrowed from the kitchen upstairs.

S: (Micky) “Hey Artifice, you still coming? Cookout’s in full swing. I know you don’t eat, but we’d love to have you.”

M: Artifice is standing next to the spare Foldlight. He readjusts his gloved hand on the glass encasement of the bulb. 

X: (Mother Artifice) “YES, I AM JUST REINFORCING THE FOLDLIGHT’S CURRENT INTENTIONS AND CONDITIONS AS WE HEAD OUT OF THE DELTA.”

S: The ferrofluid-like fold within swirls against his touch as Micky watches. 

X: (Mother Artifice) “AND WITH THAT, I BELIEVE I CAN NOW STEP AWAY TO JOIN YOU ALL FOR SOME FRIENDLY LEISURES FOR A TIME.”

M: He and Micky watch the Foldlight for a second, just taking in its warmth, its strange light, its mesmeric flow and swirl.

S: (Micky) “Artifice?” 

X: (Mother Artifice) “YES, MICKY?”

S: (Micky) “Thanks. For everything. For this, for being here. Most of all, thanks for always looking out for Everett.”

X: (Mother Artifice) “YOU ARE MOST WELCOME. I AM GLAD TO BE OF SERVICE. AND HOW ARE YOU, MICKY? TELL ME OF YOURSELF.” 

M: Micky watches the Foldlight. 

S: (Micky) “I’m okay. I’ve been really worried about Everett. She’s always had survivor’s guilt, you know, so this is hard for her. She’s been having trouble adjusting to the scars, too, but I think she’s starting to come around on–”

X: (Artifice) “MICKY.” 

M: She looks at him, surprised. 

X: The blank, shrouded face is just regarding her silently, the broad, horned mantle backlit by the glow of the Foldlight and the smear of the Delta passing by the windows outside. (Artifice) “MY QUESTION WAS: HOW ARE YOU?”

S: (Micky) “Uh, I…”

X: (Mother Artifice) “MICKY FLUKE, YOU ARE A BEING OF STRENGTH AND GRACE. YOUR RESILIENCE IN PROVIDING QUIET SUPPORT TO THOSE YOU LOVE SPEAKS VOLUMES ABOUT YOUR CHARACTER AND THE DEPTH OF YOUR COMPASSION. YOU TIRELESSLY UPLIFT AND PROTECT EVERETT IN HER FREQUENT TRAVAILS, BUT YOUR WELL-BEING IS NO LESS IMPORTANT. AFFORD YOURSELF CARE, AND GRANT YOURSELF PERMISSION TO SEEK SUPPORT WHEN UNDER DURESS. IT IS MORE THAN DESERVED.” 

M: Micky’s surprise has become a slow, flattered smile. 

S: (Micky) “How do you do that?”

X: (Mother Artifice) “DO WHAT?”

S: (Micky) “Just, like, laser into the core of people?”

X: (Mother Artifice) “I AM MOTHER ARTIFICE. IT IS WHAT I DO.”  

S: (Micky) “I see. Do you attend cookouts as well?”

X: (Mother Artifice) “INDEED I DO. PLEASE LEAD THE WAY.”

M: And together they door into the elevator and descend toward the Stagecoach hangar. 

S: The crew is homeward bound at last – or at least Midst-ward bound. 

M: Their incredible journey has brought them to the highest heights, the deepest depths, and even into the furthest reaches of the Delta.

S: But this is their denouement, the coming-down. 

M: No more high heroics, no uncharted reaches, no glamorous discoveries– 

S: and hopefully no more existential horrors or nightmarish deaths 

M: –required. 

X: Just a straight shot back through the Delta, along the Mediun, back to Midst – picking up the rest of the crew along the way, of course. The Ship will be able to catch up to them in no time. Won’t they be pleasantly surprised!

S: Here in the hangar, the entire small crew is gathered inside the Stagecoach. Its cargo door is open wide, admitting bright Delta unlight from the transparent walls. 

M: Between the bocular hoss racks, the survival packs, the extra supplies and camping gear, they’ve created a little clearing, almost – a campsite within the ‘coach’s cargo hold. 

S: A chorus of cheerful greetings arises as Artifice comes aboard with Micky. 

X: Thoughts have begun to turn to what’s next.

S: The fearsome spectacles–

M: Not the heart-shaped ones, but the wild and wondrous things they’ve perceived– 

S: And the metaphysical questions raised along the way have provided ample learnings.

X: Everyone is looking forward to returning to regular life after this wild cosmos-spanning adventure. 

S: And after that, perhaps even more scientific discovery. 

M: Or at least, almost everyone is looking forward to regular life. (Merlin) “Thank you for joining us, Artifice. Please make yourself comfortable.” 

X: Merlin pats an open seat beside him here within the Stagecoach,

S: before continuing his ongoing conversation with Cleophee.

M: (Merlin) “But no, Cleo, I can no more predict the ultimate decisions of the Consortium than any of the rest of you, though if the stakeholders at Bernhard & Gottle have their way, the Ship will surely launch an upcurrent expedition after a refit at Midst. I know there’s interest in exploring the Fount, trying to determine and discern the origins of the cosmos…”

S: (Cleo) “Oh, and I’ll certainly try to do my part to make a persuasive case to the Ebonreef Barony to support such an expedition.”

M: (Merlin) “And that’s not even mentioning the storm-ravaged Selvages – you know, the sides of the cosmos, perpendicular to the current.”

S: (Cleo) “The sides…” Cleo’s eyes go sort of unfocused. 

X: (Everett) “And, uh, what do you know about this whole diplomatic mission conversion thing?” Everett asks. “Are they still thinking about doing that, too?”

M: (Merlin) “I believe so. I – from what I am given to understand–”

S: (Cleo) “They certainly didn’t put in a pool to help with the scientific expedition, now did they?”

X: (Everett) “Right, exactly. And there’s so much room aboard this thing, too.” 

S: (Cleo) “Has anyone actually used the pool? I keep forgetting it’s up there. I did bring a swimsuit, but there always seems to be something else going on.”

M: (Merlin) “From what I understand, this is really just the first of what could possibly be a whole fleet of dark mica vessels. I think the ultimate intention of the Consortium is to try and revolutionize transit, to make contact with all the different civilizations across the cosmos, to create an easier way to move about it, one where we are not forced to change ship at the Mediun every single time you want to transit from Fold to Un and back again.” 

X: Everett and Micky exchange a little look here at the, uh, mention of the essentially inevitable obsolescence of their Stagecoach. Everett comfortingly, quietingly, pats the bulkhead of the Stagecoach here beside her. (Everett) “Don’t worry, baby, we’re not going anywhere.” 

S: Micky chuckles. (Micky) “That would certainly make the cosmos seem a lot smaller, if everyone was tearing around at the same speeds we have been since the expedition started.” 

M: (Merlin) “But possibly more intimate, too, more friendly, more able to communicate with one another. Imagine being able to send a message from way up in the Upper Unfold to the Fold without having to use some sort of relay station or interisletary cable.”

S: Felix is turning sausages on the little grill. (Felix) “Mmm, aren’t you the optimistic one?” 

X: (Tzila) “Speaking of revolutionary happenings at the bleeding edge of unprecedented science – Merlin, do you think becoming bocular is going to affect your teaching?” Tzila asks, enjoying a Stationary-style dog. “Are you still gonna try to go back to the classroom after this? What’s your plan?” 

M: (Merlin) “Hmm.”

X: Yeah, what is this going to look like for Merlin, one wonders. Is he going to be a robot professor?

M: (Merlin) “I think I have, perhaps, spent a good amount of time being in one place. To be perfectly honest, being aboard this Ship has given me a new perspective, to be on the bleeding edge of discovery, to seek new things, answers to the greatest fundamental mysteries of life.” 

S: Mother Artifice inclines his head towards Merlin. 

X: (Mother Artifice) “AND DO YOU SEEK ANSWERS TO THE MYSTERIES OF YOUR OWN BODY? DO YOU HARBOR DESIRE TO SWITCH PLACES WITH THE BIOLOGICAL MAN?”

M: (Merlin) “Oh, well…” Merlin looks to the Biological Man. The Biological Man, enjoying a Stationary dog, looks to Merlin, politely curious.  

X: (Mother Artifice) “YOU WOULD OF COURSE BE WELCOME TO COME BACK TO ANY ONE OF THE MOTHER’S LAZARETTOS AND UNDERGO…TREATMENTS.”

M: (Merlin) “I thank you for that opportunity, Mother Artifice, but… I don’t quite know yet what my future holds. I’m sure some of my peers would probably advocate for me to observe the rigors of academic due process and want to study me while I study myself, but… Why not also do that here, onboard this vessel – going to the very limits of the cosmos in order to better understand our place in it?”

X: Rawfield raises an eyebrow, leaning back in a folding chair. (Rawfield) “Can the Biological Man consent, at this point? Where have you landed on that, Merlin? Can he agree with full conscious knowledge to be transfigured back into this bocular chassis? Should I be directing this to him? I’m sorry, I realize this is not very considerate of me.” 

M: The Biological Man looks to Rawfield. (Biological Man) “Hmm?” 

(Merlin) “I do absolutely think the Biological Man should be able to make his own choice, as he is able. But in many ways, I’m not just responsible for him anymore. He and I are fundamentally linked. He is a part of me, and I am a part of him. We don’t know how long we’ll be stuck this way, or even IF we can switch back. Whether we do, if we can, we need to figure that out for ourselves. In the meantime, I think, for now at least, we are planning to… stick together?” Merlin gazes politely at the Biological Man with his curious, rigid face. 

(Biological Man) “I would prefer to remain together as well,” the Biological Man says. 

S: Whoa, a preference!

X: (Rawfield) “Well, there we have it,” Rawfield says.

S: Micky grabs a Stationary-style dog and a bun off of the platter that Felix is passing around. 

M: (Merlin) “What about you, Micky, Everett? Do you think you’ll continue Stagecoaching?” 

S: They exchange a speculative look, 

X: Micky returning to her chair beside Everett, slinging a leg into Everett’s lap.

S: (Micky) “Hmm, just back to normal? Keep on truckin’?” 

X: (Everett) “That sounds nice to me,” Everett says. “I mean, as long as dark mica ships don’t put us out of business. I don’t know. I like flying the cosmos with you.” She looks at Micky. Micky looks back. “Yeah, I don’t know, I mean, I know that they’ve been working on improved lifeboats for this whole thing, for, you know, the next phase of the expedition. It might be that the Stagecoach gets replaced with a dark mica lifeboat.”

S: (Micky) “That’s probably a good thing.”

X: (Everett) “I mean, for, just, safety purposes, yeah.” 

S: (Micky) “We were only able to use the Stagecoach to rescue anybody once, really, and that put the poor old girl out of commission for weeks.”

X: (Everett) “Well, it’s better than nothing. But yeah, after this, um… Yeah, I don’t know if we’re coming back for phase two, we’ll see. We’ll hear what the Consortium has to say. But in the meantime, I think we’re just gonna keep cruising, maybe take a little time off. We have a friend out in Vermillion County back on Midst–”

S: (Micky) “Oh, I’d love some time off.” 

X: (Everett) “Yeah, yeah, back to the farm? Uh, she has a farm out in Vermillion County, outside of, out in the country, outside of Stationary Hill, and we’re probably gonna go–” 

S: (Micky) “She lets us stay for free if we do some gardening and take care of the wildebees.” 

X: (Everett) “Mm-hmm. And then after that, I think we’re gonna, uh, Ol’ Smoker our way out to the dunes, do a little camping. The dunes on Midst are beautiful.” 

M: Tzila is nodding her head along with Everett and Micky’s waxing poetic. 

S: (Tzila) “That sounds great, you two. First thing I’m gonna do when we get back to Midst is… spend a week, at least, with my dad, before going back home to Verdure. I mean, Everett, you know my dad, you know. He’s kind of a worrier, tends to be a little overprotective…”

X: (Everett) “Justifiably,” Everett says. 

S: (Tzila) [scoffs] “Oh, I – okay, I guess. I did have kind of a wild childhood.” 

X: Everett gives her a Midst fist bump. (Everett) “If you know, you know.”

S: (Tzila) “Anyway, I just can’t wait to see him again, let him see ME, let him see that I’m alive, tell him all about the expedition – maybe minus some of the more horrifying parts.”

M: (Merlin) “Your father, he’s retired now?”

S: (Tzila) “He keeps trying to retire, but then he keeps coming back. He likes having something to do. No, he’s been, uh, running Saskia’s. But, after I’m done visiting with him on Midst, I’m gonna see if I can convince him for a little trip over to Verdure. Um, by the way, if anyone else wants to visit, highly recommend.”

X: (Everett) “Oh, yeah, the trams there?” Everett says. “Incredible. You should all hop aboard sometime if you’ve got time, if you’re passing through. They’re, all the biomes, so cool–” 

S: (Tzila) “Mm-hmm! If you come with me, I can take you behind the scenes, too. All the hidden corridors connecting the different enclosures, the different biomes–”

M: (Merlin) “Ooh! I’ve never had the behind-the-scenes tour of Verdure. That sounds delightful.”

S: (Tzila) “Well, you never knew the right people before.” 

X: (Hambing) “There’s no interisletary biome that quite compares to a good tearror system, though,” Hambing says. “After I share all my notes with my tearrorology association, you know where I’m going?”

S: (Tzila) “Where?” 

X: (Hambing) “Straight down.” 

S: (Tzila) “Straight back down, huh?” 

X: (Hambing) “Yeah, there are some tearror storms I want to see. I also want to see if I can link up with folks like, uh, uh, what was his name, um, Merlin? The, uh, the guy, the, uh, Zor, Zoron.” 

M: (Merlin) “Oh. Yes.” 

S: Felix and Merlin exchange a look. (Felix) “Oh yeah.” 

X: (Hambing) “Yeah, I wanna cruise some of the foldways with maybe, I don’t know, Zoron himself, if I can find him. That’d be great. That sounds fascinating to me.”

S: (Felix) “Mmm. Yeah, he seems like a really fascinating guy.”

M: (Merlin) “Quite.”

S: (Felix) “Full of wisdom.” 

X: Everett likes this. (Everett) “Oh, Hambing! If you find him, or others like him, please contact me. I’m part of a paragliding group on Midst. I am trying so hard to upgrade my glider with tips from those folks. They can stay in the air for weeks, even without thermals?! Please help me out.”

S: (Felix) “They don’t know. They don’t even care what time it is. Oh shit!” Felix suddenly jolts out of his chair and scurries off to the exterior window of the hangar to check something outside, before coming back. “Just checking on whether we’re getting close to where that one beached time buoy was, so we can try to grab it.”

M: (Merlin) “What are your plans, Felix?”

S: (Felix) “Still, uh, weighing my options. I’m kinda undecided about my continued participation as far as the hypothetical next expedition is concerned. I mean, on the one hand, I’d be very excited to, uh, discover what months might exist near the Fount. Might be a lot easier to engineer than one near the Delta – but I’m really kind of excited on this Delta idea.”

M: (Merlin) “Oh, are you still interested in that?” 

S: (Felix) “Well, it wouldn’t be cheap, and it wouldn’t be easy. So, yes.” 

X: (Rawfield) “You and I might end up working together then,” Rawfield says. 

S: (Felix) “You headed back to the Delta afterwards?”

X: (Rawfield) “That’s the plan.” She swirls a little red wine in her glass here. “Before I joined the expedition, I had recently received word of my acceptance to a humanitarian subgroup of the Cosmological Consortium. We’ve been working on plans and establishing resources for future Delta rescues.” She looks around at the crew, cooly, calmly. “So my availability for the second phase of the expedition is, I would say, currently unknown, possibly unlikely. My expertise and interest, personally and professionally, lies with the Delta, not with the Fount. But, time will tell, and I have some excellent colleagues who are well-qualified and might join you in the future.” 

S: Cleo takes a sip of her cocktail, one of the very last she was able to mix with the remnants of Quino’s fancy mixology supplies. (Cleo) “Wow, it sounds like even if there IS a second expedition, it would be with a pretty different crew, potentially.” She’s grappling with a pretty uncomfortable awareness that she really doesn’t want to go back home. Death and danger and all, she wishes the expedition didn’t have to end yet. The Ship has felt more like home than the islet of Guilemoth ever did, in a way she’s still struggling to fully accept or articulate to herself. But she does know she doesn’t want the voyage to end. She’s afraid of facing normal life again. Going back to her family again. But what else is she supposed to do? She’s not a scientist, or a pilot, or a doctor, or a navigator, or a fold witch, like the rest of these amazing people. 

X: (Micky) “Well, this crew is definitely sticking together for a little bit longer,” Micky says, “both aboard now, and when we get back to Midst. Uh, drinks at Saskia’s are on me. Are you coming, Cleo? Or do you need to get off early in order to get back to Ebonreef?”

Everett is sitting forward in her chair now, giving Cleo an inquisitive look. (Everett) “You? Midst? Us? Midst? All of us together, a little bit? Yeah? Maybe?” 

S: (Cleo) “Oh, that would be wonderful! I… I was actually thinking I might like to stay on Midst for a while. I mean, I barely got to see Stationary Hill on Launch Day. Obviously, I’ll need to go back home at some point. I’ll be expected to report to Aunt Nixie – you know, the Baron of Ebonreef – and my cousin is throwing an engagement party.” 

X: (Everett) “Another one?” 

S: (Cleo) “Another one. On Guilemoth this time.” 

X: Everett turns to Micky. (Everett) “We gotta go.”

S: (Cleo) “Oh, I can probably finagle you some invitations. And you’ve already met her! I’m sure she would love it if you were there.”

X: (Everett) “I’m just kidding, we’re gonna be camping. Dunes.”

M: Cleophee takes a contemplative bite of a Stationary-style dog, piled high with peppers and other toppings. 

S: (Cleo) “If there is another expedition, I, I think I’d like to be part of it. But I, I’ve been thinking, I would want to be able to contribute more. I wonder how fast I can learn… punch-disc computing? Or botany? I kept all my plants alive – that’s got to count for something! Maybe I have a natural green thumb!”

X: (Everett) “If you come along for a second phase, I would assume that Omelet’s coming?” Everett says. 

(Mother Artifice) “I WOULD PRESUME THAT HE WILL. OMELET IS THE MOST PURE BEING ON THE ENTIRE SHIP,” Artifice interjects. “OMELET DOES NOT THINK OR WORRY, AND TELLS HIMSELF NO TALES. HE SIMPLY CHARGES ABOUT THE VESSEL SHOUTING.” 

M&S: (Merlin & Cleo) [Laughter] 

X: (Mother Artifice) “I’M NOT SURE WHAT IS HUMOROUS ABOUT THAT. THAT IS MERELY FACTUAL.”

S: (Cleo) “Well, yes, it is. AND it’s funny. What about you, Artifice? I mean, you were so important to the design of this whole vessel. I can’t imagine you could let it go anywhere without you.” 

X: (Mother Artifice) “I WILL RESUME MY NORMAL DUTIES AT THE FALEGIMAR LAZARETTO, SO LONG AS THE SHIP’S CONTINUING EXPEDITION REMAINS ON HIATUS FOR THE PURPOSES OF A REFIT, BUT OF COURSE I WILL RETURN FOR ADDITIONAL SOJOURNS SHOULD THEY COME TO PASS. MOST IMMEDIATELY, HOWEVER, AFTER WE RETURN TO MIDST, I WILL BE TAKING THE GRANDDAUGHTER BACK TO THE DEEP COENOBIUM WHERE THEY RESIDE, SO THAT THEY MAY UNDERTAKE THE FINAL STEP ON THEIR PATH TO MOTHERHOOD.” 

S: Cleo’s smile becomes strangely fixed on her face for a moment. (Cleo) “Oh yeah, right. Of course. Speaking of which, where is Dot?”

[A change of ambience.]

M: In the sloop at the very top of the Ship, the Granddaughter is sitting alone, sort of like they’re in a crow’s nest, just watching the horizon, wearing their heart-shaped pink glasses, when Everett elevators in. 

X: (Everett) “Oh, there you are. You had us thinking you’d fallen overboard or something. Trying to keep tabs on everybody in case weird bullshit starts happening again.”

S: She pulls a lever in the sloop cockpit, extruding a speaking tube. 

X: (Everett) “Found ‘em. They’re in the sloop at the top of the ship.” 

M: Dot does not respond. Everett looks briefly annoyed, de-extrudes the tube, and moves to elevator back down. She pauses. She heaves a heavy sigh. 

X: (Everett) “Shit. Hey, uh… So, I’m… I’m sorry, for how I spoke to you on that little islet, when we all, uh, were camping. I was, uh, not doing so hot, and I took it out on you, and that was fucked up. I’m sorry.”

S: Dot passively and non-reactively receives this information. They continue to look out at the warped scenery outside. 

M: Everett takes a deep breath.

X: (Everett) “It’s just that I, uh… You… Your, uh…”

S: Dot does now turn to look at her with what seems to be profound tranquility, dark eyes staring neutrally through pink hearts, and Everett’s face flashes with anger again, but then she gets a grip on it. 

M: And then, Mother Artifice ascends eerily out of the floor.

X: Everett shakes herself. (Everett) “Uh, anyway, yeah, sorry, uh, won’t happen again.”

S: And she goes.

M: Artifice takes a seat beside Dot in the sloop. Together they silently behold the warped vista of the Delta as the Ship soars homeward, the strange, unsettling sunset retreating behind them. 

S: A companionable silence persists for some time. Finally, Dot speaks. 

X: (Dot) “Everett hates me.”

M: Artifice peers calmly at passing oily clouds.

X: (Mother Artifice) “YOU HAVE CREATED THAT STORY FOR YOURSELF AND HAVE DECIDED THAT IT IS TRUE. YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW EVERETT FEELS ABOUT YOU.” 

(Dot) “She has either avoided me or been violently angry at me. That has not been imagined.”

(Mother Artifice) “EVERETT IS NOT ANGRY AT YOU. EVERETT IS ANGRY AT HERSELF.” 

S: Dot looks to their mentor. He is gazing straight at the horizon ahead, veiled face blank. 

X: (Dot) “Why is she directing her anger at me, then?”

M: Artifice shakes his head. 

X: (Mother Artifice) “THAT IS SOMETHING YOU WILL HAVE TO ASK HER. I HAVE KNOWN EVERETT SHEARWATER SINCE SHE WAS EIGHT YEARS OLD, WHEN SHE BECAME AN OCCASIONAL PATIENT OF MINE AT THE SEQUESTER LAZARETTO. SHE IS ON A JOURNEY NOT UNLIKE YOUR OWN IN SOME WAYS, BUT THAT IS HER STORY TO RELATE, NOT MINE.” 

S: Dot blinks. 

X: (Dot) “A journey… not unlike mine?”

M: Artifice does not clarify. Instead, he says, 

X: (Mother Artifice) “YOU RECENTLY DID WELL TO RELATE SOME WISDOM OF YOUR TRAINING TO CLEOPHEE. YOU ARTICULATE THE TEACHINGS ADROITLY.” 

(Dot) “It is gratifying to share what I have been taught when it can help other people.”

(Mother Artifice) “A SIGN THAT YOU WILL MAKE AN EXCELLENT MOTHER. IF ONLY YOU PRACTICED YOUR OWN ADVICE AS WELL AS YOU PROVIDE IT TO OTHERS.” 

S: Dot turns.

X: (Dot) “What… do you mean? I do practice.”

M: Artifice slowly, meaningfully, inclines his head.

X: (Mother Artifice) “YOU MAY DECEIVE OTHERS, GRANDDAUGHTER. BUT YOU CANNOT DECEIVE ME. I AM ARTIFICE, MOTHER OF MISDIRECTION, OF WHAT IS HIDDEN AND WITHHELD, AND I HAVE ALWAYS SEEN YOU FOR WHAT YOU ARE.”

S: Instantly, Dot cracks, their carefully neutral countenance crumbling, and they throw themselves to their knees before Artifice. 

X: (Dot) “Please, Artifice, I’m trying, please, please, I’m trying, please, please don’t tell the Grandmothers!”

(Mother Artifice) “THERE IS NO NEED FOR GROVELING, GRANDDAUGHTER. I AM NOT CHASTISING YOU.” 

(Dot) “No, it’s true. I’ve been lying to you, to everyone. I’m so scared. I’m sorry!” 

(Mother Artifice) “GRANDDAUGHTER–” 

(Dot) “I shouldn’t have lied! I can’t stop the thoughts, I can’t stop the fear! I’ve never been able to, never! I’m always afraid… of myself, of the journey. I can’t stop. I’m so afraid everyone will know I’m not ready. I panicked in the Un when that creature came for us, and you’re right, I lied about it. I should never have come on this expedition. I should have stayed in Coenobium, in the darkness, in the silence, where I belong. I shouldn’t be Granddaughter. I’m not ready. I’m not ready for any of this. I failed to find Realization. Or maybe Realization has decided it doesn’t need to find me.”

(Mother Artifice) “DO NOT PRESUPPOSE YOUR OWN FAILURE, AND ESPECIALLY DO NOT IMPOSE AN AGENDA UPON REALIZATION.”

(Dot) “But I’ve been looking and looking and I’ve seen so many things, but I’ve not known any of them to be Realization. Or maybe I saw it and I misjudged it. Artifice, I’m so scared that I’m doing it wrong, that I will fail. I can’t stop thinking! Thinking and thinking about it. It’s eating me alive.” 

(Mother Artifice) “YOU ARE NOT IN CONTROL OF THIS PROCESS, GRANDDAUGHTER. DO NOT TRY TO BE. YOUR AGONIES STEM FROM RESISTANCE, FROM FIGHTING FOR AND AGAINST OUTCOMES. IT IS NORMAL TO FEEL THIS WAY. IT IS THE PRICE OF ADMISSION ON ANY JOURNEY OF GREAT DISCOVERY SUCH AS YOURS. MANY GRANDDAUGHTERS HAVE GONE THROUGH THIS BEFORE YOU, AND MANY WILL GO THROUGH IT AFTER YOU, AND FEAR HAS ALWAYS BEEN AND WILL ALWAYS BE A COMPANION. YOU WILL LEARN TO LET GO.”

(Dot) “But I am supposed to have learned by now! If I were a regular Daughter, maybe I could have these struggles, but I am the most senior novice in the entire order. A Granddaughter should have silenced thought, overcome emotion, and look at me – I’m drowning in both!”

(Mother Artifice) “AS ONCE WAS I. AND I CONCEALED IT AND MISREPRESENTED IT CONSTANTLY JUST LIKE YOU, DESPERATELY LYING TO ALL OF MY TEACHERS AND MENTORS WHEN I WAS GRANDDAUGHTER. WHEN I BECAME A MOTHER, I CHOSE THE NAME ARTIFICE FOR A REASON, AND IT IS NO ACCIDENT THAT THE GRANDMOTHERS CONNECTED YOU TO ME AS YOUR FINAL MENTOR DURING THIS LAST PHASE OF YOUR TRAINING. YOUR STRUGGLE IS NO SECRET TO US. ARTIFICE IS YOUR OBSTACLE, AND SO ARTIFICE HAS BEEN MADE YOUR GUIDE.”

(Dot) “You feared failure?” 

(Mother Artifice) “WITH EVERY FIBER OF MY BEING, WITH A SCREAMING VOICE THAT HAUNTED AND TORMENTED ME MY EVERY WAKING MOMENT, INSISTING TO ME THAT I DESERVED FAILURE AND WOULD MEET MY DESTRUCTION.”

(Dot) “Why did you lie about it?”

(Mother Artifice) “FOR THE SAME REASONS YOU DO. BECAUSE I BELIEVED I WAS FLAWED AND INADEQUATE, FUNDAMENTALLY UNWORTHY OF MY STATION, AND THAT TO REVEAL MYSELF TO OTHERS FOR WHAT I TRULY WAS WOULD LEAD TO JUDGMENT, FAILURE, AND RUIN.”

(Dot) “But you did not fail. You met your Realization and you passed the test. You became a Mother.”

(Mother Artifice) “I DID, WITH NO SMALL AMOUNT OF UNNECESSARY SUFFERING. MY FINAL MENTOR, MOTHER TRAUMA, ONCE SPOKE TO ME AS I AM SPEAKING TO YOU NOW, AS YOU WILL LIKELY SPEAK ONE DAY TO YOUR OWN GRANDDAUGHTER WHO TRAVELS A PATH OF FEAR AS WELL.” 

(Dot) “I don’t think I’ll make it to having my own Granddaughter. I’m so sure I’ll fail.”

(Mother Artifice) “YOU MAY FAIL. OR YOU MAY SUCCEED. BUT IT IS UNNECESSARY AND FRUITLESS TO ABUSE AND DOUBT YOURSELF ALONG THE WAY. LET GO.”

(Dot) “I’ve tried, and tried, and tried to let go. I can’t! I’ve never had control of thought or feeling! I have never known how to do this, and I know less and less every day! How can I possibly find Realization this way, let alone pass some final test?”

(Mother Artifice) “DO NOT CONCERN YOURSELF WITH THE TEST. REALIZATION COMES FIRST. REALIZATION WILL REVEAL ITSELF TO YOU. IT IS NOT A MATTER OF IF, BUT WHEN. IT WILL FIND YOU, AND YOU WILL KNOW IT. YOU MUST LET GO OF ALL IMAGINED OUTCOMES. THEY DO NOT EXIST. WHAT IS AT THE CORE OF YOU IS NOT A CURSE. IT IS NOT SOMETHING YOU NEED TO HIDE ANYMORE. ONCE YOU ACCEPT THE JOURNEY, YOU WILL FIND THE WAY. IT IS INEVITABLE. BUT ANSWER ME THIS, GRANDDAUGHTER, AND ANSWER ME TRULY: WHAT IS IT THAT YOU FEAR ABOVE ALL ELSE – THE CONSEQUENCES SHOULD YOU FAIL TO BECOME A MOTHER, OR THE FAR GREATER CONSEQUENCES SHOULD YOU SUCCEED?”

M: The Granddaughter and Artifice look at each other. 

S: Artifice is sitting very still. 

X: (Mother Artifice) “It is inevitable,” he says again, very quietly.

[Urgent ominous music.]

M: Immediately they both move, elevatoring down to Control where the rest of the crew are all converging as well. What fuck is going on?

X: Behind the Ship, the horizon is warping more and more, that weird sunset once again intensifying, growing closer, even though they are flying away from it. 

M: (Merlin) “Am I seeing things? Are my eyes malfunctioning? Did we misread our instruments? Have we been going the wrong way?” 

S: Micky is scrambling at the navigation table, clawing through maps. (Micky) “No, our heading is correct.”

X: Everett is scanning the horizon with bocnoculars. (Everett) “No, Micky’s right. Look at the Mediun. We’re going the right way – upcurrent, like we should be.”

M: (Hambing) “Then why is it getting closer?!”

S: An impossible foreshortening is occurring, a freaky cosmic Hitchcock zoom as the warping horizon begins to flatten toward the Ship. The sunset behind: brighter, brighter. The sky ahead: darker, darker. 

X: (Tzila) “Great,” says Tzila. 

M: Artifice is motionless in the center of the room, staring out the rear windows at the intensifying light behind.

S: All the Ship’s instruments are going completely mad. 

X: The Foldlight is bubbling, flickering. 

S: (Cleo) “Artifice, do something!” 

X: Cleo yells, but Artifice does not move. 

M: Dot is frozen beside him. 

X: (Dot) “Mother, what’s happening?”

S: Artifice does not answer. 

X: Rawfield is rummaging through punch-discs, looking for something, anything – the, uh, the ‘Escape the Horizon’ disc or something. 

S: (Felix) “Can we go faster?!”

X: Felix is urgently examining his clocks. 

S: (Felix) “This better not be fucking time travel, I fucking swear.”

X: Cleo is clutching Omelet in her arms, a futile attempt to shield him from whatever is happening.

M: Merlin takes a step toward Mother Artifice. (Merlin) “Artifice, what if we dove down into the Fold? C-could we–”

X: (Mother Artifice) “NO,” 

S: booms Mother Artifice. 

X: (Mother Artifice) “THERE IS NO ESCAPE.” 

S: The sky ahead of the Ship is turning black, and not the black of Fold. Something else. 

X: The sky behind is narrowing, focusing, converging into a hot singular light, casting long shadows through Control.

M: A scene like golden hour, impossible and unheard of in this cosmos. 

S: (Tzila) “I think we know why no one returns from the far Delta,” 

X: Tzila says quietly, eyes reflecting the uncanny light. 

S: (Tzila) “Sorry, dad…” 

X: (Everett) “Fuck that!” Everett yells. “Everyone to the Stagecoach–”

S: Artifice holds up a hand. 

X: (Mother Artifice) “YOU CANNOT FIGHT THIS. THE STRUGGLE WAS OVER BEFORE IT BEGAN.” 

M: No one moves.

X: (Mother Artifice) “THE POINT OF NO RETURN HAS ALREADY BEEN PASSED. WE CAME TO FIND THIS, AND NOW IT HAS FOUND US IN RETURN.”

S: Artifice turns from the window. 

X: (Mother Artifice) “LISTEN TO ME CAREFULLY. THE DESTINATION OF THIS VESSEL AND ALL ABOARD IS UNAVOIDABLE, BUT IT NEED NOT BE UNSURVIVABLE.”

S: This statement causes, understandably, a commotion.

M: (Hambing) “What the FUCK does THAT mean?!”

S: Cleo feels kind of…excited. She has an excuse not to go back home yet! She realizes that’s a messed-up response to have, kind of like a kid who doesn’t want to go to school being excited about a tornado. 

X: (Mother Artifice) “COMPREHENSIVE UNDERSTANDING OF THIS IS NOT NECESSARY. ALL YOU NEED TO KNOW IS THIS: NEITHER YOU NOR THIS SHIP WILL BE HARMED. I WILL NAVIGATE US THROUGH THIS. YOU ARE ALL UNDER MY PROTECTION AND WILL BE INTACT AND UNSCATHED NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS.”

M: (Merlin) “How can you KNOW this, Artifice? Are you sure?” 

X: (Mother Artifice) “YES,” he says. “I AM.” 

S: Artifice nods his shrouded head with absolute certainty, invoking a level of terrifying eldritch authority he has never before exerted over the crew. He seems less human than ever before.

M: The light that has been taunting them ever since they entered the Delta resolves now into a distinct point. 

S: A pinprick.

X: A single existential pixel of searing overwhelming immense inevitability. 

M: It is small and it is massive and it is immeasurable. 

S: No future exists that does not lead to it. 

X: The Granddaughter’s eyes are blatantly wide with fear, in full view of everyone assembled. They cannot hide it anymore. 

S: And Artifice pulls them quickly aside, kneeling down before them, and takes their face in his gloved hands as everything around them, the entire rest of the cosmos, diminishes.

X: (Mother Artifice) “YOUR JOURNEY TO REALIZATION CONTINUES, GRANDDAUGHTER. YOU ARE ABOUT TO BEHOLD THINGS THAT MOTHERS FOR A THOUSAND GENERATIONS HAVE SOUGHT BUT NEVER FOUND. RELEASE CONTROL. ACCEPT THE JOURNEY. YOU WILL FIND THE WAY.”

M: And in an infinitesimal fraction of an instant, the pinprick expands into eternity – a kaleidoscopic, crushing convergence – and then, it engulfs them.

[A sound of immense finality, followed by complete silence.

Eventually, a deep, mysterious ambience.]

S: The dark crystal shard of the Ship is adrift, its crew alive. 

X: The Foldlight is off. Its filaments are dark, its liquid amalgam of fold hovering inert in the center of the bulb. 

M: The crew float weightlessly within the control deck, their drifting zero-gravity silhouettes limned in a strange, harsh, singular light shining starkly from outside.

X: They shield their eyes, taking stock of themselves and each other, uncomprehendingly.

S: Relaxing her grip on Omelet–

M: who hangs stupefied in the air right where she left him, spinning slowly, wiggling his nubby legs– 

S: Cleo looks at her freckled arms, her weightless, drifting hair. There is no bioluminescence. She is lightless. She absorbs this information in much the same way that you might if you suddenly discovered that, in the blink of an eye, all your arms and legs were gone. There is no opportunity for thought or understanding. She hears herself start to scream. 

X: Beyond the windows, a colossal, dark expanse. And there, hovering within that vast and unknowable night, there shines an object fundamentally beyond the crew’s comprehension, never conceived of in their wildest science nor dreamt of in their most fantastical fairytales. 

M: There shines… a sun.

S: Also, Mother Artifice is gone.