Through the puckered gaps in the gazebo’s flesh, Fift saw a couple of courting Staids, arm in arm and holding parasols, heading for the eastern grove beyond the docking-spires.

In the breakfast room, Frill leaped back from Squell, stumbling over a seating harness. “What in—Squelly!”

“Esteemed guests,” Pip said, still seated, “my friends . . . Might we take a bit more time to resolve this matter?”

“From my perspective, the matter is quite resolved,” Miolasia said. “I would wish Iraxis cohort luck, were that not foolishly optimistic given the dismal failure of its project.”

In the breakfast room, Grobbard enfolded Squell in zir embrace. Squell shrank, wrapping vemself in vir own arms, vir own tight, quivering inner hug within Grobbard’s outer one. Ve turned vir head into Grobbard’s neck and squeezed vir eyes shut.

“As for you, Fift,” Miolasia went on, “while it is very kind of you to offer to shoulder the burden of raising yourself alone, that is in neither your own best interest, nor in ours.”

“Oh, Kumru,” Frill said, turning away from Squell moaning in Grobbard’s arms; turning away from Fift, vir eyes filling with tears. “Oh, Kumru. It’s over . . .”

Smistria stumbled from the seating harness and went to vem. Nupolo, alone at the breakfast room table, was blank, immobile, like a lapine transfixed on a spear.

{Okay.} Fift sent zir agents. {Last chance.}

“Despite the immense demands currently laid upon us,” Miolasia said, “our order never shirks its duties. Your parenting is now in our hands, and we have ample resources to correct your previous parents’ mistakes. We must be on our way now”—ve tucked a stray mirror behind vir ear and looked over at Umlum, who nodded that ze was ready—“but I will see you soon, at the Pole.”

“As it would be unwise, for a number of reasons, for you to journey alone,” Umlum said, “we have summoned the nearest pod of Peaceables to escort you there. They should arrive within the hour.” Ze looked somberly at the faces of Pip, Arevio, and Grobbard, each in turn. “Your squatright over these apartments . . . should hold until then.”

Fift ripped open the gazebo’s membrane and pushed into the gap, staining zir white robe with its yellow blood. Ze struggled through, out onto the surface of Foo.

And ze ran.

Chapter 19

19

The moment Fift emerged from the gazebo, zir audience surged from zero into the tens of thousands—the first wave of the agent-notified.

Fift ran past the pavilions, the bundle-gardens, over a small bridge, zir feet slapping on the grownbone walk. The diners at a nearby veranda looked up in surprise.

But zir parents hadn’t noticed yet. They must have attention screens up for the meeting. Nothing from the outside was getting in. Not yet.

Umlum nodded to Grobbard, avoided Pip’s eyes, glanced briefly at the rest of the Fathers, and followed Miolasia from the meeting room.

“Well,” Nupolo said in the breakfast room. “Well.”