Dura pulled Farr closer to her, easily overcoming the gentle resistance of the Magfield, and stroked his hair. "Come on," she said. "It's over now. Let's go back, and see what we can do."

"No," he said, clinging to his sister. "It's never over. Is it, Dura?"

 —

Little knots of people moved through the glistening, newly stable vortex lines, calling to each other. Dura Waved between the struggling groups, searching for Logue, or news of Logue; she kept a tight grip on Farr's hand.

"Dura, help us! Oh, by the blood of the Xeelee, help us!"

The voice came to her from a dozen mansheights away; it was a man's — thin, high and desperate. She turned in the Air, searching for its source.

Farr took her arm and pointed. "There. It's Mur, over by that chunk of Net. See? And it looks as if he's got Dia with him."

Heavily pregnant Dia... Dura pulled at her brother's hand and Waved rapidly through the Air.

Mur and Dia hung alone in the Air, naked and without tools. Mur was holding his wife's shoulders and cradling her head. Dia was stretched out, her legs parting softly, her hands locked around the base of her distended belly.

Mur's young face was hard, cold and determined; his eyes were pits of darkness as he peered at Dura and Farr. "It's her time. She's early, but the Glitch... You'll have to help me."

"All right." Dura lifted Dia's hands away from her belly, gently but firmly, and ran her fingers quickly over the uneven bulge. She could feel the baby's limbs pushing feebly at the walls which still restrained it. The head was low, deep in the pelvis. "I think the head's engaged," she said. Dia's young, thin face was fixed on hers, contorted with pain; Dura tried to smile at her. "It feels fine. A little while longer..."

Dia hissed, her face creased with pain, "Get on with it, damn you."

"Yes."

Dura looked around desperately; the Air around them was still empty, the nearest Human Beings dozens of mansheights away. They were on their own.

She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to resist the temptation to search the Air for Logue. She delved deep inside herself, looking for strength.

"It's going to be all right," she said. "Mur, hold her neck and shoulders. You'll have to brace her there; if you Wave a little you'll hold yourself in place, and..."

"I know what to do," Mur snapped. Still holding Dia's small head against his chest, he grasped her shoulders and Waved slowly, his strong legs beating at the Air.

Dura felt awkward, inadequate. Damn it, she thought, aware of the pettiness of her own reaction, damn it, I've never done this on my own before. What do they expect?

What next? "Farr, you'll have to help me."

The boy hovered in the Air a mansheight away, his mouth gaping. "Dura, I..."