Thank you. But away from you I am just a horse.
“You’re so much more than a horse!” she protested. “But a horse is good enough.”
In due course she reached the mountain. It did seem to rise high enough to be an island, depending on how high the surface of the water in the other reality was. But between her and it was a deep channel, as if the mountain had sunk down in the semi-molten floor eons ago, making a depression. This must be Seqiro’s endless trench.
She found a place where she could safely drop down into it, the drop not so far that she couldn’t scramble back. “I’m in the channel, Seqiro. Where are you?”
Not far from you. I shall wait.
Soon she caught up with him. He was standing, breathing hard, the sweat rolling off his hide. “Why, Seqiro! What happened to you? You’re steaming hot!”
I’m afraid I panicked. I galloped, but found no end to the channel. I recognized landmarks I had passed before, and realized that I was trapped.
“You ran all the way around the mountain!” she exclaimed. “Oh, Seqiro, you wasted valuable energy and are losing water in your sweat. Didn’t you know better?”
I did not.
“But you’re so smart!”
No. Away from you I am not. I maintained contact with you, but only your thoughts came through, not your underlying power of mind.
She realized that he had meant it literally when he warned her about that before. So, alone, he had reverted to his underlying nature, and spooked when unable to figure out how to escape the channel.
Then she realized something else. “You couldn’t have run around the mountain! Half of it’s in the other reality, under the water!”
True. I realize that now. The loop evidently is completed on this side.
“Well, let’s get you out of this and climb that mountain,” she said. “Now that you’re smart again, did you see a good way for you to do that?”
Yes. There is a navigable slope to a dead-end path.
They walked back to it. Sure enough, it was possible for a horse to climb up on the mountainside, but then the path ended as it seemed about to cross over the top of the channel, which was deep and narrow here. It was as if there had once been a bridge here.
And there, in an adjacent reality beyond the trench, was another stick-ball beacon. This was certainly the right place!
But I will do better with your help.
“Sure! What do you need from me?”
Tell me when my front feet are about to land just before the bridge. I am unable to see them when my head is up.
“Okay.”
Seqiro got up speed and galloped toward the brink. “Now!” she cried as his front feet came down. He brought his hind feet up close to them, then heaved up his forefeet and leaped over the gap. He recovered his balance and slowed to a stop. He was out.
“I guess maybe we should stay together after this,” she said. “I really didn’t like being apart from you anyway, Seqiro. I worried—”
I understand. And of course he did, for he could read the complex of her emotions as she spoke.
They explored the mountain from outside the channel, and found a likely ascent. But it was a narrow ledge in places. “Um, will you be able to turn around there? I mean, if—?”
Perhaps you should explore ahead, and I will rejoin you when you come across a turning place.
“Okay. But let’s just not separate any farther than we absolutely have to, okay?”
Agreed.
So she ran and hurdled the trench and mounted the twisty steep path, catching handholds on the carved stone abutments to help haul herself up. She found a kind of landing, and thought its description to Seqiro, who then followed her up. They continued similarly, by stages, their progress complicated by the wall of cold water. When the best path crossed that boundary, they had to back off and find an alternate path. Thus it was evening by the time they reached the top, and they were tired. They had seen no other beacons or signs of life.
“You know, if this doesn’t give us some way to move on rapidly, we’re sunk,” she said. “It will be all we can do to get down the mountain and back to the last habitable reality.”
I shall be disappointed for you in that event. But perhaps Darius will find a way to cross from the other side, and you will still be unified.
“Gee, I hope so! It’s not that I’m not satisfied with your company, Seqiro, but—”
You need a human male like Darius, just as I need a mare like Maresy, to complete your life.
“Yeah.” She led the way along the leveling summit, looking for a good place to camp for the night. But the only good one was on the east side of the mountain, beyond the boundary. She knew exactly where that boundary was now, after bumping into it so many times on the way up.
Then she did a mental doubletake: this was the top. They should be able to cross that boundary now—if they ever could. So she stepped gingerly into it—and passed through.
It was indeed an island. Ahead it sloped to a rocky shore just a few feet below the level on which she stood. The waves washed against the barren stone, making froth.
“Seqiro! We’re across!”
I saw it with you. The horse appeared behind her as she looked back, seeming to materialize from nothing. But I fear that this too is impassable.
“Yeah.” Her elation of the moment faded quickly. The surface of the ocean extended to the horizon, featureless. Then she had another thought. “But the beacons pointed this way, so there must be something.”
At least we can wash.
She forced her mind away from the disappointment. She really hadn’t expected any more than this. “Yes, we can both take a good dip, and I can wash my clothes.”
This time Seqiro let her remove his load and harness, and she stripped. Nakedness didn’t matter with an animal, and if it did, it wouldn’t have mattered with this one. He could see her naked mind.
They stepped cautiously toward the limited shore, passing through another boundary just at the verge of the water—and stopped short.
There was a pontoon wharf projecting into the sea. It cut off abruptly about ten feet out, and seemed of recent vintage, with bright paint and gleaming metal chains connecting the floats.
But what was the point of a wharf here? Was it waiting for a ship?
It is a bridge. We can see only what is in this reality.
Suddenly it made sense. The path hadn’t ended; it continued on across the water. But only part of it was in this reality, because it was on the Virtual Mode. “So the beacons did know what they were doing,” she breathed. “Well, let’s wash, and—maybe we had better spend the night here, and eat and rest, before we start across. We don’t know exactly what we may encounter out there.”
True.
They washed up, finding the water chill but refreshing. Colene felt a special freedom, being naked in the open. Somehow it seemed that if she could be naked all the time, she would never be suicidal.
She walked out along the bridge, crossing the next boundary. The pontoons continued unbroken. But the appearance was of a ten-foot segment ending before and behind her. It looked far more precarious than it was. There was no doubt now: the bridge was part of the Virtual Mode. Someone from an anchor reality must have set it up. But who?