He is sincere.
Colene got up and flung her arms around her father. “Oh, Dad!”
Then they were both crying. Nona got up and walked away, knowing that she was no longer needed here.
Outside, in the tent, Amos was kneeling beside Burgess, his hands on contact points.
“Amos is achieving some rapport,” Darius explained to Nona. “But Burgess can’t tell him what is wrong, because he does not know.”
Amos looked up, seeing her. “His world is like this one? Like Earth?”
“Yes,” she said. “Except that my magic was far more limited there.”
“And it was on the Virtual Mode that he became ill?”
“Yes, though not immediately.”
“I think I need to know more about the Virtual Mode. Will you take me there?”
“I could, but it would be dangerous for you, because you are not an anchor person. Also, Seqiro would have to come too, because you and I could not understand each other without the telepathy.”
I can reach across Modes, Seqiro thought.
So he could; he had been doing so as they traveled the Virtual Mode, because their party had often stretched across three or four Modes. “In that case, I can show you. But it will not seem much different, across just a few Modes.”
Amos got back to his feet. “Take me, then. I don’t know what I’ll find, but since I’m at a loss here, it’s worth the try.”
“You must take my hand,” she said. “And do not let go, because you could be stranded in a foreign Mode. You can cross only when in contact with one of the anchor people.”
He took her hand. “Have no fear. I have no designs on you. I only want to learn what I can of this situation.”
True.
She walked him to the anchor at the end of the tent. As they stepped through it, the tent disappeared. They stood in a similar yard, near a similar house. But its color was different, and there were no vehicles beside it.
“That is some effect!” he remarked, impressed. “This is another world?”
“Another Mode, yes. An alternate reality. There are boundaries every ten of your feet, and each crossing is similar. Each Mode is different, but usually similar to the ones closest to it.”
“And I can’t cross by myself?”
“No. Please do not seek to experiment. If I lost you, you would never get back.”
“How could you lose me?”
Nona showed him the stone trick, having him pick up the stone and hold it in his free hand while they stepped across Modes. The stone disappeared, and was there on the ground when they returned. “If we walked across, without touching, I would enter the next Mode,” she said, “while you would continue in this one. If you then fell in a hole and were not visible from where I stood, I could not see you, and certainly I could not reach you. If you were sleeping just beyond the boundary, I could see you but not reach you, because I am in the Virtual Mode, which contains only ten-feet depth of any normal Mode. It is wider to the sides, but still, it is a chance not worth taking.”
“I appreciate that,” he said. “What about food? If you eat on one Mode—?”
“We must wait to digest it, or we will lose it. Water, too. Even the air we breathe, I understand.”
“The air!” he exclaimed.
“Yes. It, too, is substance. But our bodies incorporate it very rapidly, so we do not suffocate. Otherwise it would be almost impossible to traverse the Virtual Mode.”
“That may be the key!” he said, “The air. Burgess breathes it too.”
“Yes. More than we do, because he floats. He—” She paused, realizing the significance. “He is absorbing the air of the Virtual Mode! And it is not the same as that of an anchor Mode. His substance is being replaced by Virtual substance, faster than ours.”
“My thoughts exactly. We don’t think of air as nourishment, but it is, and most important. Our lungs—and surely his gills—are extremely responsive to things in the air. A number of drugs are administered by inhalation. Suppose there is some trace substance in the air of the Virtual Mode that is poisoning Burgess?”
“But the Virtual Mode is merely a path across ordinary Modes,” she protested. “There would be nothing there that the others do not have.”
“Then the reverse case. Some substance that isn’t there. Or is there, but isn’t retained, because it takes the body longer to absorb it, and it is lost as you cross the next boundary. Burgess could be suffering from a trace deficiency. There are any number of trace elements our systems need, but we normally get them in our food and water. If he normally picks up some of those from the air, the deficiency might not show up right away, but in time it would manifest. Then he would gradually fail—exactly as he did.”
Nona was amazed at the simplicity of it. “But why has he not gotten better, in the Earth Mode?”
“He may be getting better. But it took time to develop the deficiency, and it will take time to eliminate it. Especially since he is not processing air at his normal rate, now, because of fatigue. Assuming that our air has it in a similar ratio to the air of his world of origin, which may be an unsafe assumption. We shall have to find a way to replace it faster. If only we knew what it is!”
Nona was thrilled that a likely answer had come, but also had doubts. “If there is something, and we make him better—will he not lose it again when he re-enters the Virtual Mode? We do not want to make him ill again.”
“Yes, that is a likely problem. I shall try to find something to replace what he is losing. Then he could take a supply along with him, and not suffer. If only I knew what it might be! Burgess is the most fascinating creature I have encountered, and I have no hope of comprehending more than a tiny fraction of his wonders. A genuine triramous creature, of a completely alien phylum! My ignorance is colossal, and that is the root of the problem.”
Nona discovered that she liked this man. But she did not wish to complicate his life, so she kissed him once, quickly, and led him back through the anchor to the Earth Mode.
“We may have the answer, or part of it,” she told Darius happily.
“I heard,” he said. “It makes sense to me.”
“I must go home now,” Amos said. “But I will try to research the matter of potential airborne nutrients. Meanwhile, Burgess should slowly improve, just being here in one place. Take care of him, and give him comfort. I’ll return tomorrow, hoping for progress.” He turned to Nona. “Thank you for showing me the Virtual Mode. It is part of an experience I shall treasure for the rest of my life, even if I don’t dare mention it.” He paused, smiling. “There are ways in which you remind me of Colene, Nona.”
Nona felt herself flushing with pleasure, though she wasn’t quite sure why.
Amos returned to his vehicle—she realized now that it was called a “car”—and drove away. As they watched the car depart, a sudden strong thought came. Marriage!
Nona exchanged a smile with Darius. Colene had evidently broached the key subject.
In a little while Colene and her father appeared at the back door of the house. She looked radiant. “I have permission,” she said simply. “My folks will take care of it.” Then, almost as an afterthought: “Dad, this is Darius.”
The two men performed the Earth ritual of shaking hands.
“Look, there’ll have to be a license, and a blood test, and we’ll have to make arrangements in Wichita Falls, in Texas,” the man said. “It will take a couple of days if we’re lucky. No problem. Anything to make my little girl happy.” He eyed Darius. “Colene tells me that you two have been together constantly, but you never—”