Thuy cowered at the far end of the cave, remembering Grandmaster Green Flash’s skin with the rainbow sheen like rotten fish or rancid ham. Jayjay lay still beneath the iridescent slime. Thuy hated herself for being afraid to approach him. Tragic organ music swirled in her head. Her heart skipped a beat and seemed to explode.

And in that instant of ultimate despair, she finished Wheenk, the pieces of the metanovel coming together like a time-reversed nuclear explosion—everything fitting, everything of a piece—her adventures at the fab, her love for Jayjay, her worries about the nants, the dance she’d done down the rainy street that night exulting over her metanovel, the expression on her mother’s face at her college graduation, her father’s bare feet when he tended his tomato plants, the Easter Island boy who’d given her a cone shell today, her last kiss with Jayjay—Wheenk slamming together as heavy and whole as a sphere of plutonium, a perfected pattern in her local orphidnet.

Pain had produced artistic transcendence.

Thuy messaged a copy to the Big Pig lest the great work be lost. The Pig understood; kindly she passed it further, posting Wheenk across the global orphidnet.

And now, just as Azaroth had promised, Thuy remembered Chu’s Knot. There’d been one final twist and wrap she couldn’t visualize, but finally she had the knack; it was a bit like the time Kittie had showed her how to knit a pointed hat. Yes, the Knot was perfectly clear in Thuy’s unaided mind, hanging there in three-dimensional glory, revolving at the touch of her will, a subtly woven bracelet with several hundred crossings.

Meanwhile the Pig was tending to a cloud of orphids surrounding the nant farm. And a second cloud of orphids was attacking the vile goo that enveloped Jayjay’s inert form. Thuy hadn’t thought about Jayjay for nearly a minute. She was such a terrible, self-centered person.

“I could go to the Hibrane now,” she told the Big Pig. “But what’s the use? I don’t want to live without Jayjay.”

A streamer of goo pushed across the cave, feeling for Thuy. Nimbly she moved out of its reach.

“You don’t look quite ready to die,” said the Big Pig, sounding amused. “Anyway, Jayjay’s not dead. He’ll be fine once the orphids clean him off. I’ll be keeping him here to make sure you return. And meanwhile, I’ll put him on a dark dream. He and I will be conducting a thought experiment, you might say. Go on with you now. And I’m open to whatever you learn. But, remember, I don’t want to wait past midnight. You’ve got a little over six hours.”