The document compared the S-Em to a pile of autumn leaves. Its strata were multilayered, shifting, disordered. They came in many shapes and sizes. No one would ever count them all.

Passage between here and there was difficult. It took a super-strong worker to open a strait. Once you were in the S-Em, movement between strata was usually possible, if challenging. Sometimes, though, a stratum got completely separated from the rest of the S-Em — a little world unto itself.

What had surprised me most was the idea that the S-Em began to emerge billions of years ago. Countless species had contributed to its creation. The ability to work essence wasn’t limited to human beings or even to intelligent animals. Essence-workers appeared among dolphins and crows and elephants, sure, but also among bacteria and trees and goldfish. That meant the other world was the product of a lot more than the human imagination.

I thought about getting stuck in a bacterial stratum — not fun. And what kind of world would a tree invent for itself? One with twenty-four-hour sunlight and no caterpillars?

I looked down at the tub-toilet and shook my head. My new reality was a strange place.

Gwen had told me when dinner was served, and I’d said I’d meet her there at 7:30. I walked into the dining room ten minutes late and didn’t see her. I looked around the room and didn’t recognize anyone. Except Graham. He was sitting at a table by one of the windows, looking out. No one was sitting with him. No one was even sitting nearby. He’d become a pariah.

His untouched place setting suggested he’d only just gotten there himself. After a moment’s hesitation, I went over and asked if I could join him. He looked up at me, surprised. Then he nodded at the empty chair across from him, and I sat down.

An awkward silence ensued. Both of us seemed to be trying to think of something to say.

Thankfully, a waiter came to take my order, which was a rather lengthy transaction. I had to choose dishes for four courses, as well as beverages. When the waiter described the entrées, I didn’t recognize some of the things he mentioned. The process left me a bit flushed and embarrassed.

After the waiter left, Graham gave me the ghost of a smile.

“I wouldn’t have guessed you liked snails.”

“Snails?”

“The chicken breast comes with escargots.”

I must’ve look dismayed, because he said, “Don’t worry, they’re on the side.”

The waiter filled our water glasses.

“So, how are you settling in?” Graham asked.

“Okay, I guess. It’s all …” I paused, at a loss.

“A bit much? Really, really weird? Exciting and terrifying at the same time?”

“Yeah,” I said, “all that.”