T’sha clacked her teeth, both in mirth and utter exasperation. “Enough! Mother, Father, you have my promises and I have an important appointment. Can we wish each other luck with full souls and leave all this for when I return?”
Mother Pa’and rubbed T’sha’s muzzle with her own. “Of course, Daughter. Good luck in all you do.”
“Stand by your feelings, Daughter,” Father Ta’ved murmured as he caressed her. “They are sound and alive.”
“Thank you, and good luck to you both.” T’sha drifted away toward the portal. “And if, when I return, you have word of someone from a good family who is interested in perhaps two years of mutual promise to help us both learn how to set up a house and work within a marriage, I will not be sorry to hear of them.”
Her parents’ approval all but radiated off her back as T’sha flew out the door.
The remainder of her time passed quietly. She met with her newly selected deputy and found him much as Ca’aed described. The district speakers were content with his credentials and competence. He would do well as soon as he had something to do. She checked in with the indentures working on Gaith and found all there going smoothly, if slowly, and the quarantines being rigorously maintained.
Back at home, she played with her sisters and chatted about innocuous things with her brother and his father, pretending nothing much was happening in any of their lives.
Finally, she soaked herself long and thoroughly in the refresher, eating until her stomach groaned and her headset reminded her it was time to leave for the World Portals.
T’sha loaded herself and her tiny caretaker bundle aboard her kite. It felt her weight and let Ca’aed guide it out into the open air.
“Good luck, Ambassador,” said Ca’aed as its portal closed. “I will miss you.”
Sorrow deflated T’sha, although she struggled against it. In the past few hours, she had been able to forget about Z’eth’s words and about D’seun’s formidable support. Now, it all flooded back. “I’ll be back soon, Ca’aed, with only good news.”
“I believe you, T’sha,” said her city. “I believe in you.”
T’sha let those last words warm her all the way to the World Portals.
The portals themselves were not alive. Too much metal was required in their construction to allow them life and awareness such as the cities possessed. Instead, the great cagelike complex was maintained by a veneer of life—scuttling, twiglike constructors, flat stately securitors, and busy recorders that were all eye and wing.
T’sha reached the gate and was touched briefly by the welcomers, which identified her and opened the portals. T’sha sent her kite back to Ca’aed and hesitated, looking through at the tools swarming over the lifeless struts and conduits. She shivered. At the best of times, T’sha did not like the World Portals. They made her uneasy, gliding through a huge cage that was insensible to her presence, unable to care who she was or what she needed.
“Ambassador T’sha?” A recorder swooped into her line of sight. “Technician Pe’sen has asked this one to direct you to your portal.”
“Proceed.”
T’sha followed the recorder along the approved path, staying well away from the engineers, technicians, and their tools. All around her, she heard the low, strange hum of mindless machinery. The air tasted of metal and electricity. Two of T’sha’s stomachs turned over, and she wished she had eaten more lightly.
The cage opened before her, and T’sha saw the seventh portal stretching out parallel with the canopy. It was a ragged starburst, like a huge silver neuron. T’sha picked Pe’sen out from among his colleagues circling the big, blocky monitor station.
“Technician Pe’sen.” T’sha flew past the recorder and touched her friend’s hands. “Good luck. I promise my passage will not damage any of your children.” Pe’sen would go on at length about the difficulty of growing and training cortices that could adequately translate the condition of a nonliving entity.
“That’s what you say now.” He shook his head mournfully. “But I know you ambassadors. If it can’t vote, you don’t care for it.”
T’sha whistled with mock despair. “I repent, I repent I have learned better.” Pe’sen clacked his teeth at her. “Are you ready for me, my friend?”
“Always, Ambassador.” Pe’sen glided back diffidently, leaving her path clear. “If you’ll enter the ring, we will send you to New Home.”
T’sha tried to keep her posthands from clutching her bundle, even as she tried to keep her bones relaxed. She was partially successful. She flew across the vast, open expanse of the ring until she reached the center. She hovered there, waiting, while Pe’sen and his colleagues worked their magic.