“To put it simply. If we don’t pull this off within a few days, we’ll fall down dead like your rather pretty leaves. So we’d better hope that Commander Flint earns his wages. Don’t worry, though; every computer must have its backup, and so must every plan.”

Each time Petronio felt he understood, Fenestra would leave him far behind. What was a backup? What lay behind the plan?

“And a computer is also what you are lying inside. Think of it as a machine with thoughts.”

“Logical thoughts,” interrupted a smooth, masculine voice.

Petronio nearly jumped out of bed. “Who the holly was that?”

“Only the onboard program,” replied Fenestra. “Tell me, George, what is our escape trajectory?”

There was no pause as the voice answered. “All systems up and running within twenty-three seconds. Vertical ascent of three hundred meters will be achieved at fifty-four seconds. We shall then accelerate due west at a cruising speed of one thousand three hundred kilometers per hour, reaching the port of New Walk in five-point-six hours. Have a nice day.”

“Thank you. Perimeter scan still clear?”

“There are no foreign elements within two hundred meters.”

“Good,” said Fenestra, still talking to thin air.

Petronio eyeballed the room. A voice without a body? Totally conkers! “How does it work?”

“Oh really, young Grasp. I am a politician, not a quantum engineer. Probably wave modulation using synthesized speech built into binary consciousness programming. The Dendrans are backward. To even call this a developing country would be an overstatement.”

And that’s what Petronio felt. More than out of the vine loop. It was like being back at school on his first day, with the older kids laughing because he didn’t know where to hang up his cloak. In this room of clean lines, he felt sweaty and awkward.

Fenestra paused. “That sounded harsh. I am sorry. There are those among you who are eager to learn, yes?”

“Yes.” She had taken him under her wing. It wasn’t a bad place to be.

“That’s settled, then. I have not forgotten that you once saved my life. Now I have repaid the favor. That makes us equals. In the coming times, you shall be of use to me, I have no doubt. But don’t worry, I will never again treat you as a mere messenger.”

Petronio soaked up the compliment and for a brief moment the pain in his chest subsided.

“Oh, your father has been informed of your ‘accident’ and that you are currently in my care.”

“He won’t like that. Wants to … keep me under his eye.”