“Now that's quite enough,” the Initiator said firmly after a while. “Dry your eyes and listen to me. Obviously we can't keep you isolated from everyone in the Ark for ever, just so you can get a good night's sleep. But we do think it might be good for you to spend a couple of days and nights here, just to give you a rest. Then we've got work to do, my dear. And the first thing is for me to help train that undisciplined psyche of yours. ''

“You, Ma'am. Oh, my goodness!”

The Initiator laughed. “Being one of the Four doesn't exempt me from Ark work. For now, that work is going to be you. An Initiator is someone who starts a new idea, or a new way of looking at or doing things. We have never had a long-range receiver before, so the old rules and ways of learning simply don't apply. We will damp down that unruly PK of yours and concentrate on the long-range receiving. How does that sound?”

“Wonderful. Only, Ma'am…”

“What's the trouble?”

“If I'm to stay in the Black Hole, could I please be let out to go to the bathroom?”

The Initiator laughed. “There's a lavatory and a shower to your left directly outside the door. It was never locked, you know. You had only to turn the handle.” She flicked Ruth under the chin. “You were so sure it was a prison, you never tried the door.''

Ruth blushed. “But if it wasn't built as a prison ... or a kind of punishment, what is it actually for?”

“When the Ark was designed it was realised that there might be times when the leaders of the community might need to get together and discuss policy in private. As you know, the aim of the Ark has been to encourage high psychic abilities. But until a certain level of skill and trust had been developed there was literally no way of keeping secrets. That is why the Black Hole was built - as a discussion room, nothing more. Nowadays it isn't used, as we have better control over our minds. And of course, it is a severe deprivation for us, since once the door is shut we are completely cut off from the loving and protective force of the Web.”

“So it never was a prison?”

“Of course not. Only a threat for naughty children. That was all that was ever needed.” She laughed. “I don't know what we'll use now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone in the City knows you've been 'imprisoned' here. When you return to Web life they're going to be surprised that you look so well, that you were so untouched by the experience.”

“I could bleach my hair white,” suggested Ruth, enjoying the idea of returning to Grade Eight a broken spirit, aged beyond her years.