“Ve needs you? Ve needs you? Oh, I see. For your skills in unarmed combat off the mats? Is that why ve needs you? To help vem start riots all over Fullbelly? No, that can’t be it; I see you’re insulted by the idea. Certainly not; ve must need you for your restraint and calmness and firm command of logic . . . which you’re demonstrating”—Smistria threw vir hands in the air, flushing dark purple, vir braided beards flying in all directions—“by blocking your parents’ messages, pestering rioters in Peaceable custody over the send, and sneaking off to the fulcrum of Foo—”

A hundred thousand viewers on the stairs, and another eighty thousand in the skywhale.

“Father Smistria, can you calm down? I—”

“Can I calm down? No, I can’t calm down, we’ve had far too much calm around here. In fact, we’ve completely failed in our duties, Fift, by calmly allowing you to—”

Frill came up behind Smistria, crossing vir arms across vir bandoliers.

“What?” Smistria barked.

“No, I agree with you completely, actually, Smi,” Frill said, looking at Fift. “Please carry on.”

The staircase branched: one flight up toward home, the other down toward the local docks. Fift slowed down.

Pip, in the skywhale, turned slowly to look at zir.

“Ah . . .” Smistria tugged on vir beard. “Where was I . . . completely failed in our duty, that’s it!”

“Fift,” Pip said. “I want you to return to the apartment. In all your bodies. Now.”

{I just . . .} Fift sent. {I just want to see if ve’s okay.} Ze took a deep breath and headed for the docks.

Pip’s eyes widened a minute fraction of a fingerspan, charged as a surface thunderclap. {Fift. You will comport yourself like a staidchild of a solid and reliable cohort. Are you listening to me? You will not jeopardize your family’s future for some kind of . . . emotional gesture.}

“We’ve allowed you to develop inappropriate attachments,” Smistria spluttered, “and this kind of self-centered . . . ignorance of the effect on those around you—”

Squell came into the corridor. “It isn’t zir fault,” ve said. “Ze doesn’t—”

“I didn’t say it was zir fault!” Smistria said. “I said we’d failed. But it doesn’t do any good to pretend that it’s not also zir fault. In any event, it’s zir responsibility—”

“But listen to what you’re saying.” Squell’s lower lip quivered. “Lack of empathy. Of connection with those around zir . . . well, how was ze to learn those things, when we never”—vir eyes filled with tears—“never managed to—”

“Squell,” Frill said, sharply. “Let’s not do this here.”

“Can we at least go into the breakfast room,” Fift said, “instead of standing here on the stairs . . . ?”