After a prolonged pause the Caleban said, "Changing circumstances convey variable relationships. Should Abnethe fail in her connectives or attempt redefinition of essences, this could produce linearities open for my disentanglement."
"Sure," McKie said. "That figures."
He shook his head, studied the empty air above the giant spoon. Calebans! You couldn't see them, couldn't hear them, couldn't understand them.
"Is the use of your S'eye system available to me?" McKie asked.
"You function as my teacher."
"Is that a yes?"
"Affirmative answer."
"Affirmative answer," McKie echoed. "Fine. Can you also transport objects to me, sending them where I direct?"
"While connectives remain apparent."
"I hope that means what I think it does," McKie said. "Are you aware of the Palenki arm and whip over there on your floor?"
"Aware."
"I want them sent to a particular office at Central. Can you do that?"
"Think of office," the Caleban said.
McKie obeyed.
"Connectives available," the Caleban said. "You desire sending to place of examination."
"That's right!"
"Send now?"
"At once."
"Once, yes. Multiple sending remains outside our capabilities."
"Huh?"
"Objects going."
As McKie blinked, the arm and whip snapped out of his view accompanied by a sharp crack of exploding air.
"Do the Taprisiots work in any way similar to what you do transporting things?" McKie asked.
"Message transportation minor energy level," the Caleban said. "Beautybarbers even more minor."
"I guess so," McKie said. "Well, never mind. There's the little matter of my friend, Alichino Furuneo, though. You sent him home, I believe?"
"Correct."
"You sent him to the wrong home."
"Creatures possess only one home."
"We sentients have more than one home."
"But I view connectives!"
McKie felt the wash of radiant objection from the Caleban, steadied himself. "No doubt," he said. "But he has another home right here on Cordiality."
"Astonishment fills me."
"Probably. The question remains, can you correct this situation?"
"Explain situation."
"Can you send him to his home on Cordiality?"
Pause then, "That place not his home."
"But can you send him there?"
"You wish this?"
"I wish it."
"Your friend converses through a Taprisiot."
"Ahhh," McKie said. "You can listen in on his conversation, then?"
"Message content not available. Connectives visible. I possess awareness that your friend exchanges communication with sentient of other species."
"What species?"
"One you label PanSpechi."
"What'd happen if you sent Furuneo to . . . his home here on Cordiality right now?"
"Shattering of connectives. But message exchange concludes in this linearity. I send him. There."
"You sent him?"
"But connectives you convey."
"He's here on Cordiality right now?"
"He occupies place not his home."
"I hope we're together on that."
"Your friend," the Caleban said, "desires presence with you."
He wants to come here?"
"Correct."
"Well, why not? All right, bring him."
"What purpose arises from friend's presence in my home?"
"I want him to stay with you and watch for Abnethe while I attend to other business."
"McKie?"
"Yes."
"You possess awareness that presence of yourself or other of your kind prolongs impingement of myself upon your wave?"
"That's fine."
"Your presence foreshortens flogging."
"I suspected as much."
"Suspected?"
"I understand!"
"Understanding probable. Connectives indicative."
"I can't tell you how happy that makes me," McKie said.
"You wish friend brought?"
"What's Furuneo doing?"
"Furuneo exchanges communication with . . . assistant."
"I can imagine."
McKie shook his head from side to side. He could sense the morass of misunderstanding around every attempt at communication here. No way to steer clear of it. No way at all. At the very moment when they thought they had achieved closest communication, right then they could be widest of the mark.
"When Furuneo concludes his conversation, bring him," McKie said. He hunched back against the wall. Gods of the underworld! The heat was almost unbearable. Why did Calebans require such heat? Maybe the heat represented something else to a Caleban, a visible wave form, perhaps, serving some function other sentients couldn't begin to understand.
McKie felt then that he was engaged in an exchange of worthless noises here - shadow sounds. Reason had gone, swinging from planet to planet. He and the Caleban were striking false bargains, trying to climb out of chaos. If they failed, death would take away all the innocent and the sinful, the good and the guilty. Boats would drift on countless oceans, towers would fall, balconies crumble, and suns would move alone across unmarked skies.
A wave of relatively cold air told McKie that Furuneo had arrived. McKie turned, saw the planetary agent sprawled beside him and just beginning to sit up.
"For the love of reason!" Furuneo shouted. "What're you doing to me?"
"I needed the fresh air," McKie said.
Furuneo peered at him. "What?"
"Glad to see you," McKie said.
"Yeah?" Furuneo brought himself to a squatting position beside McKie. "You have any idea what's just happened to me?"
"You've been to Landy-B," McKie said.
"How'd you know? Was that your doing?"
"Slight misunderstanding," McKie said. "Landy-B's your home."
"It is not!"
"I'll leave you to argue that with Fanny Mae," McKie said. "Have you started the search on Cordiality?"
"I barely got it going before you . . ."
"Yes, but you've started it?"
"I've started it."
"Good. Fanny Mae will keep you posted on various things and bring your people here for reports and such as you need them. Won't you, Fanny Mae?"
"Connectives remain available. Contract permits."
"Good girl."
"I'd almost forgotten how hot it was in here," Furuneo said, mopping his forehead. "So I can summon people. What else?"
"You watch for Abnethe."
"And?"
"The instant she and one of her Palenki floggers make an appearance, you get a holoscan record of everything that happens. You do have your toolkit?"
"Of course."
"Fine. While you're scanning, get your instruments as close to the jumpdoor as you can."
"She'll probably close the door as soon as she sees what I'm doing."
"Don't count on it. Oh, one thing."
"Yes?"
"You're my teaching assistant."
"Your what?"
McKie explained about the Caleban's agreement.
"So she can't get rid of us without violating the terms of her contract with Fanny Mae," Furuneo said. "Cute." He pursed his lips. "That all?"
"No. I want you and Fanny Mae to discuss connectives."
"Connectives?"
"Connectives. I want you to try finding out what in ten billion devils a Caleban means by connectives."
"Connectives," Furuneo said. "Is there any way to turn down the furnace in here?"
"You might take that as another subject: Try to discover the reason for all this heat."
"If I don't melt first. Where'll you be?"
"Hunting - provided Fanny Mae and I can agree on the connectives."