And suddenly, without any reason, without any certainty of her success, she felt wonderful. Patricia Luisa Vasquez existed in a bubble of joy, independent of all that had gone before, not caring what would come after. She had never experienced anything like it. It had neither confidence nor euphoria in its character; it simply was an appreciation of all she had experienced, and would experience, a fulfillment of the compulsion she had had since childhood not to be normal. Not to live a normal existence, but to subject herself to the most extraordinary experiences she could possibly have. The world being what it was, she had long since decided she would have to create those extraordinary conditions in her head. And then, the world turned upon itself. The universes had twisted in some incomprehensible fashion and delivered to her an experience drawn from the visions in her head, made even more wonderfully strange and outré by history, by the actions of tens of billions of people, and who could tell how many nonhumans?

Her moment was not solipsistic; she did not feel in the least isolated or unique. But she realized how extraordinary her life was. She had already fulfilled her wildest and most deeply held dreams.

Anything else is gravy, she thought. Even going home.

The flyer landed smoothly on the surface of the Way. In her hands, the clavicle emitted a pleasant, busy hum, telling her that they would have to be several kilometers south. She informed Olmy's partial, and he lifted the flyer up for another short hop.

Overhead, the flawship accelerated south again.

She closed her eyes, letting the clavicle's sensations stream through her. She seemed to see a kind of digest of every cluster of alternate universes, tasting them, being part of them; but she could not grasp them. She could not do anything more with the sensations than guide the clavicle. No detailed knowledge about the other realms was conveyed; only the fact of their existence, and whether or not they fell within the range she was seeking.

The partials would not need a protective field, but she would. Olmy prepared a traction bubble and environment for her. Lanier stayed beside her. How much of him is here? she wondered. What is it like when a partial is destroyed?

Then she turned her full attention to the clavicle. The nose hatch opened and Patricia stepped out onto the surface of the Way, surrounded by the flexible, faintly glowing traction bubble. Lanier and Olmy followed, walking beside her without aid in the high vacuum.

"You have about half an hour," Olmy said, his voice conveyed from the monitor to her torque. "After that, the radiation from the plasma front will be dangerously intense. Will that be time enough?"

"I think so; I hope so." Patricia checked her bag and found everything in place: multi-meter, processor, slates and blocks.