"Log, PF plus one Tellurian day. Lieutenant Seward reporting in. Our receivers took some damage on reentry, but--should I call it reentry? Maybe just entry.

"Despite the damage, I picked up a transmission yesterday. It was brief and the atmosphere screwed it up, but I decrypted a few seconds of it.

"I think Helga got out. Please, God, let her have gotten out."

--Recording recovered from Site Resh, reconstructed 1887 CE (restricted access)

----

13 Tumbling Blooming, 1886 CE

Concert Hall, Acerbia

"What a diverting concert, Magistrix," said Cornartis as they departed from the concert hall.

Rosabella put on her most sincere smile as she took the man's arm. She was feeling diverted in all sorts of ways that had nothing to do with the storied militia captain she was escorting, but if he didn't notice, so much the better. "I am glad you enjoyed it."

Cornartis wasn't the sort of man to use the word "diverting" in casual conversation. He'd probably spent all evening planning that line. He was surely as distracted as she was.

He was more at home in the beehive jungles of Acerbia than in the social jungles of a Comitatus. Urban jungles, or perhaps literal ones; it was said that before he'd been detached and sent to Acerbia, he and a squad of his men had crept their way through the Wildland rainforests to a fabled city in the middle of Vallus.

"You must have found it less diverting than your battles and expeditions," Rosabella offered.

Cornartis turned dark brown eyes on her. They were handsome eyes; combined with the deliberate messiness of his hair, they could certainly attract a fine enough wife. Not to mention his muscles, which Rosabella could feel beneath the arm of his coat. The Free City of Hallard trained its special forces well. "I'd love to tell you about my expedition to the Amber City some time, Ambassatrix, but for now, let's get to business. It's difficult to talk over the sounds of a hundred instruments."

Rosabella sighed inwardly. She was far too distracted by last night's sleep -- or rather, her lack of it. "But we would not want to, of course. Music is the voice of the soul, and when the soul speaks, the ear should give heed."

Cornartis nodded but said nothing. The man wasn't born to this sort of social contact. The gusts that blew on the rarefied peaks of social refinement were strong enough to bowl over the unprepared. Rosabella herself had spent more than twenty years learning to stand strong against their squalls.

That long ago, Cornartis would have been a pimple-faced, broken-voiced young man still terrified of women.

He paused halfway down the black beeswax walk that split the gardens of the concert hall and watched as biomobiles strode into the parking lot ahead. "Gens Nethress has done some good work," Cornartis said, a faraway look in his eye. He nodded once.

"Gens Nethress has done good work for as long as I've known its scions," Rosabella agreed.

"You have some personal connections to the Princeps, don't you?"

Rosabella called on her SOPHIOS--a weak, almost feral Symbiont that she had only the barest control over--to keep her from flushing. That, at least, it could do. "Some. And you are not wrong." She smiled as a trickle of new patrons passed them on the walk, heading in for the next performance. "There are people on the streets again. Markets forming."

"Adonists allowed to worship again," Cornartis said. "Amrician writers and bourgeois merchants allowed to leave their homes without fear of being arrested."

"That as well." Rosabella had no use for the strange dual religions of Adonism and Amricianism that some of the Free Cities, including Hallard, clung to so tightly, but their bloodlines were strong and untapped. Earning their trust would be a coup for the Sodality. "We don't understand you." She calculated a light laugh. "But there is no need for hostility between your people and ours."

"There would be even less hostility if Adonists were allowed to proselytize and Amricians were allowed to speak freely."

A whorlboat landed on a pad off the diagonal of the concert hall, saving Rosabella from having to respond. The mon of Gens Lymin, a badger rampant against a flower encircled by thorns, was emblazoned on the vehicle's door.

"Lymin's a minor Gens," Cornartis asked as the door slid open and a pair of youths exited. Rosabella recognized Comes Lymin's daughter Elina wearing a gown and gloves of blond hairsilk, though she didn't know who the girl's escort was. "Are they still allowed to use the General Entrance?"

"A Gens is a Gens," Rosabella said. Nxtlu's damaging occupation of Acerbia meant that the concert hall couldn't afford to turn away the wealthy now that the city was finally recovering. Rosabella suspected that even the bourgeoisie could buy its way into the General Entrance.

"It's funny," Cornartis said. His eyes crinkled as he smiled. "To both the military and the Gentes, 'general' refers to people who have authority, while 'private' means lowly. Elsewhere, it's the opposite."

"In both the military and the Gentes, the power of the exalted serves all of us. Shall we?" Rosabella gestured toward the Sodality biomobile parked in the lot.

Though Rosabella, a respected Sodality Ambassatrix, could have flown them in on a whorlboat or a lungboat, Cornartis had abjectly refused the general transportation, preferring the private: "I'll go as the people go." Any woman who formed an alliance with him would have to be willing to deal with his martyrdom complex.

The biomobile knelt as the driver opened the door set into its back. Cornartis helped Rosabella up and into her seat. At least he was a gentleman, if not a Generalman.

When they were on their way, Rosabella crossed her legs and smiled with deliberate mischievousness at Cornartis. "To business, then."

Business would be good. Business would get her mind off of the Synapsis she'd experienced with Oralie last night. It hadn't been bad, but it was distracting one moment to be in half-sleep and in the next to be sweaty and groaning and clawing a phantom Dorsin's back with phantom nails as phantom sheets tangled around her and silver sand grains tickled her flesh beneath a twin-sunned sky...

No, it hadn't been bad by any means. But Dorsin would not like to hear that Oralie's aberrant Synapsis with Rosabella had only grown stronger since her Bond, not when it meant that Rosabella was present in Dorsin's most intimate moments.

Those moments had distracted Rosabella all day.

Cornartis was looking at her expectantly. "Your pardon, Erus," Rosabella said, shaking her head to free it from the memory of Dorsin's looming face and passionate gaze.

Cornartis chuckled. "Don't call me 'Erus.' I'm Amrician. I bow before nobody, and I expect nobody to bow before me."

"As you wish, Captain Cornartis."

The man leaned forward, entwining thick fingers. "Do you really think you can convince Gens Nethress to allow Adonist preaching in Acerbia?"

"If I've given you that impression, Captain, you shall have to forgive me. These things take work. They take time. Gens Nethress is as dedicated to its General Principles as Gens Nxtlu was to its. Gens Nethress may be more tolerant of private deviancy, but--forgiveness, again. I mean to say, of deviancy from its own principles. However, general deviancy--"

Cornartis sat back. "Apparently, the general power does not serve all of us." He smiled wryly.

Rosabella put a hand to her breast. "You wound me with my own words."

"Sharp weapons!"

"Indeed. I've found a well-placed word to be far more deadly than a well-placed sword. But hear me out, Captain." Rosabella leaned forward. "An alliance with a good bloodline could yield up many benefits."

"General power," Cornartis mused. "Over generations."

"These things take time, Captain. Your co-religionists have waited this long for acceptance. Could not your Amricianism wait another century?"

Cornartis snorted. There was an edge beneath the good-natured sound. "Amricianism's a philosophy, Ambassatrix. Adonism is our religion. They aren't the same." He held up a finger as if to cut off Rosabella from replying, though she hadn't intended to; the splinters and sectarianism of heretical pre-Exarchian beliefs meant little to her. "But, since you bring up the topic of an alliance, what did you have in mind?"

At last, here was an area in which Rosabella could shine. "I have three dozen Uxores of the proper age--"

"No." Cornartis swept a hand. "Adonism doesn't allow for studding. Or other forms of sexual misbehavior."

"--of the proper age for marriage." Rosabella smiled. "My misconceptions of your religions are my own, and yours of mine are your own. Some Uxores elect"--or are elected, though Rosabella didn't say this--"to bring forth an ascending generation, another step toward the perfection of mankind's genes and apotheosis. This requires, yes, studding--the most promising bloodlines should be, shall we say, general, rather than private. But other Uxores are meant to be brides, and they match with less consideration for genetic compatibility."

Less, but some nonetheless. If the Gentes merely wanted to marry without any consideration toward improving their families' genetics, they could always set up private marriages and be done with it. Every match the Sodality made was intended to improve the human race's ability to bond with the Symbiont, creating Magi and Tools.

"Ah. I'll need to apologize to Uxor Manela, then," Cornartis said. "I must have misunderstood her intentions."

"You spoke with Uxor Manela?" Rosabella asked, surprised.

Cornartis frowned. "After I visited the chapterhouse two weeks ago to talk to you about this for the first time, you had me relax in the balneotherapeutic chambers before I left. Didn't you send Uxor Manela to me?"

Where was Rosabella's mind today? Other than in Oralie's head... and in bed with Dorsin. "Yes, of course. Forgive me. I..."

"You've got things on your mind." There was no blame in Cornartis's voice.

That only made it worse. Rosabella was supposed to be on top of this. Perhaps that distracted embarrassment was the reason that she said, "Or, if you don't favor a Sodality Uxor, I could speak with Magus Princeps Dorsin Generosus Ortus Nethress about the disposition of his daughter Senrii's hand."

Cornartis blinked. "The Ductrix of Acerbia?"

Bile! Had Rosabella actually made that offer? The word "distracted" hardly seemed to cover the problem. But yes, she'd said it. There was nothing to do now but to see the offer through. She would try to make it seem less appealing, though; Dorsin would be displeased to learn that Rosabella was using his daughter as a negotiating chip. "I'm... aware that Princeps Dorsin is grateful for your militia's assistance in clearing the city during the Battle of the Thunderhammer last year. He may be inclined to entertain an offer for the hand of his willful, combative daughter."

Rosabella realized too late that while 'willful and combative' might scare most men away, Captain Cornartis was likely to take it as a challenge. He leaned back in the plush seat, looking thoughtful. "All right. When can I see him?"

Rosabella winced inwardly but changed it to a sleepy smile outwardly. "I had intended to visit him after dropping you at the Sodality." To beg Dorsin to let Rosabella into the libraratory archives. She needed to find out if the ancients knew anything about aberrant Synapsis and how to block it. Last night was the last straw. "If you like, we'll go straight to the palace. You are already dressed for it."

Cornartis nodded, and Rosabella passed word to the driver.

The biomobile's path took it past the Chasm. As it galloped alongside the covered gorge, drawing near the ruins of the Archives and the Thunderhammer cannon that had replaced them from far below, Rosabella drew aside the curtains and the glass of the windows and stuck her head out. This area was militarily important to Gens Nethress and access was restricted, which meant that traffic was much lower. Rosabella's rank of Ambassatrix Sodalitatis meant that she could rely on the soldiers to wave her through--

--Rosabella frowned at the sight of a lungboat gasping on the landing pad cordoned out of the parking lot near the Welcome Frieze lift. Nethress legionnaires clustered around it, pointing guns up at...

Eztli?

She was in the pilot's seat. Tvorh, the dear boy, was behind her, and so was Rosabella's dear acolyte Aoife. They were shouting something at the soldiers.

"Toward them, driver."

As Rosabella drew closer, she heard Tvorh's words clearly. "Unless you want Ductrix Senrii to die, get us a stretcher, now!"

Aghast, Rosabella froze.

"What is it?" Cornartis asked.

Rosabella pounded on the back of the seat to alert the driver. "Stop, now!" As the bio halted, she flung the door open and hurried out. Pushing through the crowd of soldiers, she emerged in the open space around the lungboat just in time to see four of the soldiers manhandle a pale and limp Senrii out of the back of the lungboat.

"Careful," commanded Eztli. "It would be a shame if she made it all the way here only to die due to your jostling."

"Just like a Nxtlu beast to joke about that," someone said.

"If she lives, you can thank this Nxtlu beast." Eztli hopped down from the back of the lungboat. As she hit the ground, she looked up to see Rosabella.

A short eternity passed as their eyes met.

Rosabella tore her gaze away and turned to Cornartis, who'd followed her. "Captain, please go back to the driver and ask him to use the shortsphere to request all of the unoccupied chirurgical personnel in the Sodality chapterhouse to the libraratory. Ductrix Senrii needs our help."

Cornartis, Ascending bless him, actually saluted and ran back through the crowd.

"Somebody get on a shortsphere wavelength and let Dorsin know what happened. Call the libraratory elevator. And for the goddess's sake, get this woman a stretcher!" Rosabella shouted as she muscled through to Senrii.

"Adon, you're going to kill her," Aoife exclaimed as she followed Tvorh, who followed the four soldiers carrying Senrii.

"Fools," Eztli growled. "Ambassatrix. Erus. I trust you both bear STIGMOS that can extrude tendons through your skin?"

It was a simple enough trick, even for Rosabella's weak SOPHIOS. "Yes," Rosabella and Tvorh said at the same time.

"Here. Take my wrists and each other's." Eztli held out her hands. Rosabella clasped Eztli's wrist and felt the Nxtlu woman flinch.

The past was truly a ravening Chimera.

Tvorh formed the third point of their triangle. "Entwine," Eztli commanded.

Rosabella closed her eyes and awoke her SOPHIOS. Tendons through the skin. The SOPHIOS reclaimed mass from her body to construct a thin membrane between her arms.

Tendon met tendon met tendon in the middle of the three-way grasp, knitting together into a translucent surface so that all of the space between Tvorh, Eztli, and Rosabella was covered. "Into our arms," Eztli commanded.

Several more legionnaires joined the four carrying Senrii to heave her up into the makeshift litter.

"Is that elevator up yet?" Rosabella asked, looking toward the Welcome Frieze.

"What in Tellus is that?" exclaimed another soldier looking in the back of the lungboat. "Is that a Chimera?"

"It will be soon," Aoife said. "She needs a dose of the anti-genophage aerosol. After we've got her in a safe cell. Hey! You four." Aoife snapped her fingers at the ones who'd been carrying Senrii. "You're not scared of Chimeras, are you?"

The men blanched.

"Carry her," Tvorh said. As a Generosus Nethress, he had actual authority over these soldiers. The men hopped to.

It was indeed a Chimera. A feminine one, and her conversion was incomplete. A sheen of sweat covered the boils and pustules marring her dark blue skin, and luminous purple hair swept the ground.

The Welcome Frieze finally slid open, and they all hurried in.

Cornartis rushed in behind Rosabella. "I've sent the alert."

Rosabella nodded her thanks. Senrii's wound looked terrible. Rosabella held her peace, though. She'd get answers from Tvorh soon enough.

After an interminable ride, the elevator reached the bottom and the door slid open. They rushed out into the golden concourse. Inquirers and legionnaires stared at them in every direction.

"Get...her to the holding cells," Tvorh shouted to the four soldiers. They nodded and veered off. Tvorh raised his eyes to the ceiling. "Mother, once they've got her in, flood the cell with the genophage cure, all right?"

Meghan's voice rang out down the concourse. "Of course, darling."

"This way," Eztli said as they passed "Autoreconstructive Methodologies," where Gens Nethress had set up their medical inquiries. She tugged Rosabella and Tvorh farther down the hall toward the section of the libraratory that had been set aside for Nxtlu's use.

"But the medical wing--" Rosabella began.

Eztli shook her head. "Afterward. First we stop the bleeding and reconstruct the nicked arteries, then halt sepsis. My inquirers made a breakthrough a few weeks ago. She can convalesce afterward in the hospital."

"Why wasn't your breakthrough moved to the medical wing?"

Eztli made a face. "Princeps Dorsin insisted that it had been inadequately tested. I doubt he intended his daughter to prove it."

"What?" Tvorh shouted.

"Look at the wound," Eztli snapped. "I have caused enough of those, and I suspect, young Erus, that you have too. It's a miracle that Senrii still has blood pressure at all." Her voice softened. "You did well to get her this far, but she won't survive the time needed to prep for surgery."

Tvorh looked at Senrii, his face a mask of agony.

"Tvorh. This will work. Trust me," Eztli said.

Tvorh nodded. Good lad. As the ranking Generosus of Nethress present, he could have forbidden them. Eztli exchanged a glance with Rosabella and gave her a wan smile.

They hurried to the Nxtlu wing. Eztli led them into a room where a half-dozen long, ribbed structures with flesh spreading from their ribs grew from the floor. They looked like nothing so much as coffins of flesh.

Rosabella hoped that didn't bode ill for their attempt to save Senrii.

Mildly luminous fluid sloshed in the tubs. Eztli led them to the nearest one. They held Senrii above it. "On three, withdraw the STIGMOS and let her drop in," Eztli said. "One, two, three!"

Rosabella's SOPHIOS lashed out as she spun down her STIGMOS, using its excess wakefulness to strike at Rosabella's genes. She cried out and fell to the floor, wrestling inwardly to reclaim control, repairing the genetic changes the Symbiont made to her as quickly as they occurred.

It seemed like hours, but was only seconds, before the Symbiont fell back into quiescence. Gasping for breath, Rosabella grasped the side of the tub and heaved herself to her feet. Seeing Tvorh's look of concern, she shook her head and smiled. "The weakness of my Bond," she said breathlessly.

Tvorh nodded and looked back at the tub. A crust had formed over its top, but it was partly transparent. Senrii floated in fluid that was moving, shifting. Eztli had veins running from both arms into the tub; she grimaced--

--something moved in the water. A fleshy tendril reached out from the inner wall of the tub and latched onto Senrii's face. Tvorh tensed at the sight.

"Oxygen," Eztli said through gritted teeth. "While it works..."

Rosabella watched, breathless, and prayed to the goddess that she would spare the daughter of the man and woman she loved.