She listened to the earnestness of the prayer as it unraveled from his mind. The firm touch of his hand pleased her. There were faint veins on his eyelids which trembled as he spoke. She did not even mind the universal stink which came from him as it came from all of those she had encountered here. He was dark, like Kerro, but he had wild, wiry hair that framed his smooth face and accented his intensity.

I could love this man!

Careful, Ekel

Ship’s warning amused her as much as her own thought had surprised her. But one look at the old, liver-spotted hand that John held reminded her she walked in another time. This was an old woman’s body which enclosed her awareness.

“. . . we ask this in Yaisuah’s name,” John concluded. He released her hand, patted her shoulder. “It would not be good for you to be seen with us.”

She nodded,

“Soon we will meet again,” he said, “at this house or that, and we will talk more of the Master and the home to which he has returned.”

She thanked him with her eyes and watched him until he turned a comer and was gone among the houses below her.

I want to go home, Ship.

There came a moment of blankness and, once more, the tunnel passage, then the lab’s dazzling lights pained her eyes after the Earthside dusk.

But those other eyes weren’t the same as these eyes!

She sat up, feeling the vital agility of this familiar flesh. It reassured her that Ship had kept the promise to return her to her own body.

Ship?

Ask, Ekel.

You said I would learn about interfering with Time. Did I interfere?

I interfered, Ekel. Do you understand the consequences?

She thought about John’s voice in prayer, the power in him—the terrible power which Yaisuah’s death had released. It was unleashed power, capable of joy or agony. The sense of that power terrified her. Ship interfered and this power resulted. What good was such power?

What is your choice, Ekel?

Joy or agony—the choice is mine?

What choice, Ekel?

How do I choose?

By choosing, by learning.

I do not want that power!

But now you have it.

Why?

Because you asked.

I didn’t know.

That is often the case when you ask.

I want joy but I don’t know how to choose!

You will learn.

She swung her feet off the yellow couch, crossed to the screen and keyboard where this terrifying experience had begun. Her mind felt ancient suddenly, an old mind in a young body.

I did ask; I started it . . . back in that ancient time when all I wanted was Kerro Panille.