She felt as if she were alone in some huge cavern. Looking up she could see how the photosphere formed a glowing roof over her world perhaps fifty thousand miles above her, and the inner radiative zone was a shining, impenetrable sea another fifty thousand miles beneath her. The radiative zone was a ball of plasma which occupied eighty percent of the Sun’s diameter — with the fusing core itself buried deep within — and the convective zone was a comparatively thin layer above the plasma, with the photosphere a crust at the boundary of space. She could see huge waves crossing the surface of the radiative-zone “sea”: the waves were g-modes — gravity waves, like ocean waves on Earth — with crests thousands of miles across, and periods of days.
Lieserl? Can you hear me? Are you all right?
She thrust her arms down by her sides and swooped up into the convective-zone “air”; she looped the loop backwards, letting the floor and roof of this cavern world wheel around her. She opened up her new senses, so that she could feel the turbulence of the gas, with its almost terrestrial density, as a breeze against her skin, and the warm glow of hard photons diffusing out from the core was no more than a gentle warmth against her face.
Lieserl?
She suppressed a sigh.
“Yes. Yes, Kevan. I’m perfectly all right.”
Damn it, Lieserl, you’re going to have to respond properly. Things are difficult enough without —
“I know. I’m sorry. How are you feeling, anyway?”
Me? I’m fine. But that’s hardly the point, is it? Now come on, Lieserl, the team here are getting on my back; let’s run through the tests.
“You mean I’m not down here to enjoy myself?”
The tests, Lieserl.
“Yeah. Okay, electromagnetic first.” She adjusted her sensorium. “I’m plunged into darkness,” she said drily. “There’s very little free radiation at any frequency — perhaps an X-ray glow from the photosphere; it looks a little like a late evening sky. And — ”
Come on, Lieserl. We know the systems are functioning. I need to know what you see, what you feel.
“What I feel?”
She spread her arms and sailed backwards through the buffeting air. She opened her eyes again.
The huge semistable convection cells around her reached from the photosphere to the base of the convective zone; they buffeted against each other like living things, huge whales in this insubstantial sea of gas. And the honeycomb of activity was driven by the endless flux of energetic photons out of the radiative sea of plasma beneath her.
“I feel wonderful,” she said. “I see fountains. A cave-full of them.”
Good. Keep talking, Lieserl. You know what we’re trying to achieve here; your senses — your Virtual senses — are composites, constructs from a wide variety of inputs. I can see the individual elements are functioning; what I need to know is how well the Virtual sensorium is integrating —
“Fine.” She rolled over onto her belly, so that she was gliding face-down, surveying the plasma sea below her.
Lieserl, what now?
She adjusted her eyes once more. The flux tubes came into prominence, solidifying out of the air; beyond them the convective pattern was a sketchy framework, overlaid. “I see the magnetic flux,” she reported. “I can see what I want to see. It’s all working the way it’s supposed to, I think; I can pick out whatever feature of the world I choose, here.”
“World”?
“Yes, Kevan.” She glanced up at the photosphere, the symbolic barrier separating her forever from the Universe of humanity. “This is my world, now.”
Maybe, just don’t lose yourself down there, Lieserl.
“I won’t.”
It sounded as if there was some sympathy in his voice — knowing Kevan, there probably was; they had grown almost close in the few days she’d had left after her tour with him around the Sun.
But it was hard to tell. The communication channel linking them was a path through the wormhole, from the Interface fixed among the habitats outside the Sun to the portal which had been dropped into the Sun, and which now sustained her. The comms link was ingenious, and seemed reliable, but it wasn’t too good at relaying complex intonations.
Tell me about the flux tubes.
The tubes were each a hundred yards broad, channels of magnetic energy cutting through the air; they were thousands of miles long, and they filled the air around her, all the way down to the plasma sea.
Lieserl dipped into a tube, into its interior; she felt the tingle of enhanced magnetic strength. She lowered her head and allowed herself to soar along the length of the tube, so that its walls rushed past her, curving gracefully. “It’s terrific,” she said. “I’m in an immense tunnel; it’s like a fairground ride. I could follow this path all the way round the Sun.”
Maybe. I don’t know if we need the poetry, Lieserl. What about other tubes? Can you still see them?
“Yes.” She turned her head, and induced currents in her Virtual body made her face sparkle with radiation. “I can see hundreds, thousands of the tubes, all curving through the air — ”
The “air”?
“The convective zone gases. The other tubes are parallel with mine, more or less.” She sought for a way to convey the sensation. “I feel as if I’m sliding around the scalp of some immense giant, Kevan, following the lines of hairs.”
Scholes laughed. Well, that’s not a bad image. The flux tubes can tangle, or break, but they can’t intersect. Just like hair.
“You know, this is almost relaxing…”
Good. Again she detected that hint of sympathy — or was it pity? — in Kevan’s voice. I’m glad you’re feeling — ah — happy in yourself, Lieserl.
She let the crisp magnetic flux play over her cheeks, sharp, bright, vivid. “My new self. Well, it’s an improvement on the old; you have to admit.”
Now the flux tube curved away, consistently, to the right; she was forced to deflect to avoid crashing through the tube’s insubstantial walls.
In following the tube she became aware that she was tracing out a spiral path. She let herself relax into the motion, and watched the cave-world beyond the tube wheel around her. The flux tubes neighboring her own had become twisted into spirals, too, she realized; she was following one strand in a rope of twisted-together flux tubes.
Lieserl, what’s happening? We can see your trajectory’s altering, fast.
“I’m fine, Kevan. I’ve got myself into a rope, that’s all…”
Lieserl, you should get out of there.
She let the tube’s path sweep her around. “Why? This is fun.”
Maybe. But the rope is heading for the photosphere. It isn’t a good idea for you to break the surface; we’re concerned about the stability of the wormhole —
Lieserl sighed and let herself slow. “Oh, damn it, Kevan, you’re just no fun. I would have enjoyed bursting out through the middle of a sunspot. What a great way to go.”
Lieserl —
She slid out of the flux tube, relishing the sharp scent of the magnetic field as she cut across it. “All right, Kevan. I’m at your service. What next?”
We’re not done with the tests yet, Lieserl. I’m sorry.
“What do you want me to do?”
One more…