"Before we came, every thousand years, Timbl would pass through a sweep of old comets. They'd regularly lose more than half their population. All this ocean is cometary water—gathered across billions of years. Apparently, there was a long lull about a million years ago, and in that time the Frants evolved to their current form and built up basic cultures. Then the sweeps began again. Gradually, the individual Frants became more and more alike, passing information and personality traits on through chemical messengers, then through cultural means. They became a holographic society, the better to absorb the shock of the sweeps. But they had never realized their potential, and weren't about to, until our gate was opened. Now they have some of our own technologies—using high-speed pictors to update each other, or even exchanging partial personalities. All in all, I'm not sure who was the more lucky—the Frants, or ourselves. We might have lost to the Jarts centuries ago if the Frants hadn't helped us."

Patricia listened intently, filling in what she hadn't had time to research in the data service. "Why can't you establish some sort of client–patron relationship with the Jarts?" she asked.

"Ah! The Jarts are quite another story. You know, of course, that we found them occupying the Way when we first connected it to the seventh chamber."

"So I've heard," she said, remembering what the rogue had told her.

"The Engineer had the misfortune of opening an experimental gate on the Jart home world. Time in the Way was not yet matched with our own time. They were able to spend about three centuries in the incomplete Way, making it their home, even learning to open crude gates. When the Way was connected and opened, there they were—much as they are today. Strong, intelligent, aggressive, absolutely convinced they're destined to populate all universes. We fought a violent war with them and pushed them back in the first decades. Then we opened selected gates and filled the first segment of the Way—down to one ex five—with soil and air. All the time we were building the Axis City, we fought skirmishes with them, pushing them back farther and farther, closing their gates. Finally, they retreated to two ex nine, and we established a barrier at that point. We tried reasoning, making exchanges. They wouldn't have it. We knew we couldn't rid the Way of them—we weren't strong enough."

Patricia sat on the lowest step of a stairway leading to the top of the breakwater. "And how can we help you?"

"That's a complicated question, actually," Toller said. "You can best help us by supporting us. Or—by not opposing us."

"You can all go home now," Patricia said. "Such as it is."