The "bottles" for the greenjuice were the size of the water coolers used to dispense water in public offices. They were filled in the sink using a rubber hose attached to a column descended from the ceiling. One of them would put the hose into the neck of the bottle and hold on tight while the other opened the valve and prepared to close it. The flood of greenjuice did not take long to fill the containers. And being inattentive on the shutoff valve resulted in a real mess. Plus wasted product, which Sam assumed was a punishable offense judging by Ayla's reaction. Prior to this, they had to sterilize using hot water and let them dry.

After filling, they had to screw on a cap and then rinse the exterior of the bottle. Filling twenty of them and then wrestling the containers -- which fortunately were not easily breakable, she discovered -- to the top of a pallet took a long time and a lot of effort. When they finished with that, they moved over to the more traditional garden, which involved potted plants rather than fancy technology. Sam knew nothing of gardening, so she relied on Ayla's detail poor instructions. Mostly she just pretended to work as the daily delivery of cabbaginos from the higher floors commenced.

"Tomorrow is fish day," Ayla announced. "Then after that is cabbagino day again. Do you want eggplant and green beans for tomorrow? We can pick them now and then I will show you how to cook them."

The clang of a metallic latch disengaging startled them. A quick glance at the open mouthed expression on Ayla suggested this did not typically happen. The receiving bay door began to roll up on its own. Ayla crept forward, shoulders hunched and hands folded together. And then her deferential posture melted. "Oh, oh, oh! Aunt Cassandane!"

Sam studied the woman who levitated into the room like a badass. Aunt Cassandane both did and did not fit her mental image. There was a little bit of the Terminator 2 Linda Hamilton thing happening. But the skin pigmentation disorder -- totally unexpected. Cassandane looked like a jigsaw puzzle come to life, every inch of exposed skin a patchwork of the typical Angmari brown and palest white. In addition to the unusual skin, she kept her hair short and possessed glacial blue eyes. She looked nothing like any of the Angmari she had seen so far, including her niece.

The woman's absentminded embrace of Ayla did not prevent her from weighing Sam with those cold eyes. "Who is your friend?"

Ayla released her aunt to skip back over to Sam. "This is my best friend here. Her name is Sam and she is my helper."

Cassandane glanced towards the wash station. "Is this the floor you are in charge of?"

"Yes, yes, yes! I am the boss of the first floor now!"

As Ayla led them around in a tour of the room, Cassandane hooked a finger in the air. Sam obeyed the summons to stand directly beside the woman. No, to stand beside the force of nature who had stolen the ship they stood inside.

"Why did Ayla contact me today?" The tone did not scream approval.

"Sorry. The other supervisors told Ayla no one liked her. I told her that wasn't true and she . . . sent you a message. I'm really sorry. Please don't do anything. I think Darla will make my life hell if she thinks I brought an outsider into her affairs."

Cassandane nodded. "Bringing an outsider into the affair . . . that certainly has the potential to change things."

"I know. And I'm sorry. I didn't think Ayla would do anything. I just felt bad because she was upset. If you could just . . . go away . . . before anyone knows you're here . . . pretty please?"

The dappled woman smiled at her. "How would you like to gain the talents of the Angmari?"

Sam blinked. "Huh?"

"Do you know anything about the talents or have they kept you totally in the dark?"

"Ayla has told me some things."

"Excellent." Cassandane pressed her thumb to Sam's forehead. "I'm afraid you are about to become a political pawn. But you will have power as part of the bargain."

Something immense pierced her mind and took up residence there. She felt herself fill to the brim with the fiery, dense, expansive something. She reached the limit and still more came. Sam's eyesight blacked out. Still more power flooded her. Her body spasmed, but somehow she remained standing. The immensity of what happened to her threatened her very sanity, and yet, it did not stop. Her screams were inaudible as her throat refused to vibrate no matter how much air rushed out it.

Finally, finally, the experience ended.

Sam felt herself lowered to the ground as she quivered and wept. The stern visage of Cassandane met her when she could see once more. "Do not tell what was done here," the woman said. "They might try to prevent what will happen. I wish this hadn't been so rushed. The experience is actually pleasant if you have the time to do it right. And the chances of attuning to more than a single precursor are much better when done the proper way. But my advice to you is this: study what I placed within you. It is a vast amount I put in you. Enough that you are guaranteed to attune overnight. But it is essential you keep this quiet. Your life might depend on it. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Sam whispered. As the woman moved to get up, she reached out. "Why?"

Cassandane hesitated, looking between where Sam lay and Ayla stood. "Because this is my power play. And also, because I think you genuinely are my niece's friend. Rest a moment. I need to speak with Ayla for a bit, then I will leave."

Sam sank back down to the ground and tried to right herself. The thing inside her raged at its captivity, threatening to rip her to shreds. Contrary to everything she had ever imaged, faced with the fearsome texture of real power, she wanted nothing more than to be rid of it. That, however, was no longer an option.