She held the clavicle before her, searching. For ten minutes, she walked back and forth, north and south, the clavicle conveying the enormous stretches of alternate worlds she crossed with each step. She discarded impressions from nearly all of them, trying not to jam her senses.

Within another ten minutes, she had located a line several centimeters long that seemed to harbor the point she was searching for. She kneeled, the traction bubble comfortably flexible beneath her. The clavicle guided itself within this tiny space, her hands merely completing the causal connection.

In five more minutes, she had the search down to fractions of a millimeter. The information from each separate universe was much more complex now; she was indeed close to an alternate Earth, and the time period was approximately correct—within a few years.

"Hurry," Olmy said. "The plasma front is near."

It was very difficult. Her theories proved to be not quite as precise as she had hoped. Within even the smallest segments of the geometry stack, worlds of substantial degrees of difference interwove. She could see now why Korzenowski and his followers had initially regarded the regions of geometry stacking as useless.

The clavicle stopped. She could not tell if she was tuning the region finely enough, but she could spend days searching and not be any closer. She closed her eyes and gave it one final tweak.

"I'm ready," she said.

"Then do it," Lanier said. She looked back at the partial and smiled her gratitude.

"Thank you—for everything."

Lanier nodded. "You're most welcome. It's been fascinating."

"Yes. . . hasn't it?"

She began the gate dilation. To the north, the corridor was filling with a reddish glow. As the seconds passed, the glow progressed higher through the spectrum—orange, an awesome greenish blue—

The clavicle's whistle was painfully intense. She saw a circle of whirling possibilities at her feet, and then she saw the circle—little more than a meter wide—clarify, presenting a distorted picture of blue skies, something bright tan, large shapes and water—

She did not have the precise location. She would be on land—she could sense that much—but had no idea where on Earth that land would be. Wherever, the traction field would protect her.

Lanier's partial bent through her traction field to give her a parting kiss. His lips felt pliant, warm.

"Go!" Olmy commanded.

She stepped through the gate. It was like sliding down a hill. Everything twisted and spilled around her. She released the clavicle and then grabbed it again with one hand. There was the sound of water, something huge and sharp and white not far away, blinding sun—

Lanier and Olmy faced the oncoming radiation.

It's not like dying, Lanier thought. There's another, complete me escaping even now. But he will never experience these things. I'll never "report" to him.