One foot at a time, slowly, slowly, no fast movements, flowing like water. Another knee came at zir, and this time ze shifted zir weight to move with it.

The world was gone. Only three little pockets were visible: the breakfast room, the corridor, the riot. The rest had vanished, as if swallowed by the void.

A shudder of rage ran through Father Frill’s body. “There is no reason to be mean, Smi,” ve said tightly. “Let us control ourselves for the sake of the child, and once this crisis is over, any time you’d like to visit the mats with me, I’d be delighted to oblige you.”

Smistria’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, I see,” ve said. “Yes? Yes, perhaps we should do that, Frill. Perhaps it’s time.”

Stupid Fathers! Now they were stiffening like peacocks, slowing to glare at each other. Fift pulled out of their grasp. “Stop it. Stop it!” ze said, and pushed ahead of them, hurrying down the corridor.

The note—Shria wait for me—cycled, cycled, waiting for a connection.

“Very interesting,” Grobbard said, zir eyes closed. Ze must be watching the conversation with Thavé.

“What’s interesting?” Fift asked.

“Doesn’t the timing seem a little . . . dramatic?” Grobbard asked. Ze rubbed the fine golden fuzz of zir scalp. “Thavé explains how our culture is brittle, or stagnant, or whatever is supposedly wrong with it, then ze gestures to the surrounding habitations, and just then the lights happen to go out and the Clowns come onstage with their piece about a revolution . . . ?”

“Oh,” Fift said. It hadn’t seemed staged. But . . .

Shria came crashing back between two anonybodies, vir nose bloody. Two of the bodies pushed through behind vem, catching vem by the arms. Ve kicked one in the shins.

Squell hugged vemself. “How could they just go off like that? Now we can’t see anyone! They should have listened to me! I’m the only one here who’s had experience with this kind of thing—you know, in the asteroids, we have to deal with seconds of bodylag all the time. And when connectivity is bad, when there’s a solar flare, or something . . . well, the first rule is, you don’t just separate!”

Fift glanced behind zir. Frill and Smistria were following, pointedly not looking at each other. Ze climbed into the aqueous ball of the ball-drop without them, and tipped it off the ledge. “I can’t believe I’m actually using Martial Staidity,” ze said to zirself aloud. “That is too fucking sad.” No one could hear zir; with no feed, zir words vanished into the air, gone forever.

Some faltering moment of feed-connection must have flickered to life, because the note vanished: on its way, perhaps, to Shria.