Several more days have passed since Envoy's questioning by the mysterious Inquisitors in black, and Bem has become increasingly moody, given to clacking and rasping at nothing at all. Nothing that Envoy has asked or attempted to perceive has given any explanation for the Zelak's conduct, though it does mention her 'mission' increasingly frequently. It is with almost welcome relief that Envoy hears the footsteps stop outside her cell and sees the hooded faces peer into the barred window of her door.

Down the hallway, a prisoner shrieks, "I'm innocent! I tell you, I didn't do it! You must believe me… " and breaks off into sobbings.

"Envoy of Lothrhyn?" asks a guard.

Envoy dusts the ash-like bits of shed skin from her tunic… the most she's moved in days. "Yes?"

The guard turns to the black-robed figure next to him. "This is the one. You want them both or just the Exile?"

Bem clacks.

"Only the exile." The figure answers. The voice is decidedly female, and familiar to Envoy's ears.

Bem flexes its limbs and swivels its head slowly from left to right, then back toward the barred window.

Envoy stands up, shaking a few more bits of 'ash' from her fur.

"Very well, Inquisitor. You there! Envoy. Order your Zelak to stand in the cell. The Inquisitor wants to speak with you… Alone." The guard peers in the barred window, wolfish muzzle poking through.

Envoy blinks and asks Bem, "Please stay here?"

The Zelak rasps. "This warrior is designated to protect Scout Envoy of Shkarkin Hive from all harm."

The guard narrows his eyes, glints barely showing in the silhouette that the outside lamplight makes of his face.

Envoy says to Bem, "I'm only going to be talking. They won't harm me."

Bem pauses.

"It is urgent that Scout Envoy continue in her mission," the Zelak says at last. "Queen Shkarkin will not be pleased by further delay. Proceed."

Envoy nods and turns to the door, "I'm ready."

"Open it." the black robed Inquisitrix hisses softly.

The guard grumps. "Since when do prisoners get private bodyguards… " he mutters. But clacking noises indicate that they have begun cranking the door open. The heavy ceramic slab begins to move aside.

Envoy steps out into the hallway, squinting slightly as her eyes adjust to the lamplight.

Outside, Envoy can see a short beige muzzle pokes out of a black robe – the Inquisitor who has chosen to speak with Envoy – and beside her, a Skreek's familiar pointy nose enshrouded by dark gray. Several guards stand nearby, two of the Jupanis and four of the Zelaks. The Lieutenant, distinguished by a silvery badge upon his cloak, nods to the black-robed figure. "If you'll sign for the prisoner, Inquisitor?"

He holds out a tablet and some parchment on which are written numerous names and dates.

Envoy looks over the Zelaks, wondering if the show of force is meant to keep Bem docile.

Bem stares after Envoy.

The inquisitrix takes up the parchment and signs with a scribbly flourish, 'Faline'. "Leave us be now. Inquisitor business is of no concern to you."

"All right, milady," the Lieutenant says. He bows from the waist, a gauntleted arm held before his chest, then traces the Star and Anchor.

Envoy scratches at her neck.

The guards begin to cycle the cell door shut behind Envoy. Bem rasps again.

Faline folds her hands behind her back as the door closes. She glances at her companion for a moment, and then back to the closing door.

Envoy frowns slightly, beginning to wonder if her being separated from Bem is for some purpose other than privacy.

The door clicks shut.

"Now leave us." Faline says to the guards. "We will meet you at the entrance, I must speak with Envoy privately."

The Lieutenant glances at Envoy, then snaps to his fellow guards, "You heard her. Back to stations." They slowly disperse, save for the black-robed Inquisitor Faline and the Skreek in the charcoal robe.

In the distance, a prisoner sobs. "No! I can't face the Eye again! No! I'll confess, I did it, ah-heh-heh… " The apparently Rathani voice dissolves into broken mumbling.

Envoy cocks one ear towards the wails, wondering what the 'Eye' is?

The caracal keeps her eyes trained on the guards until they've vanished. Slowly, she removes the hood from over her head – her black hair spills down over her shoulders.

A heavy crackling noise can be heard dimly, beneath the din of trays clattering and prisoners restlessly pacing back and forth in their cells. The air smells thick with fear and stress, though these are aromas with which Envoy is now quite familiar.

"I have given what you told me to Nimiss." Faline whispers softly to Envoy. "He has arranged for your reward."

Envoy blinks. "And what information does he hope I will uncover for him?"

Faline gestures down the hallway. "There is no need. He knows all he needs to. Please come with me." She nods to the Skreek.

At the corner of the corridor, a guard looks up, evidently recognizes the Inquisitor's insignia, and then makes a tickmark on a pad that he is holding. "Another one for questioning, eh, Inquisitor? You're clear."

The Skreek shuffles along behind Envoy and Faline, very servile, eyes held low.

Envoy begins to wonder, again, what other agenda is going on. Nimiss only had to offer her freedom to get her cooperation, after all.

Envoy thinks, o O { Unless he really can't arrange for my freedom. }

The Jupani wags his tail and lolls his tongue.

The caracal places the hood of her robe back over her head. Her face is mostly concealed now under the folds of the hood, only the light from the lamps reflecting from her eyes, and the tufted tips of her ears show.

Envoy says, "Are we going to an Inquisitor's office?"

Faline moves slowly, deliberately, through the corridors of the temple. "After a fashion." she answers.

Two Savanites pass Faline and Envoy at high speed, carrying towels and bandages. They have a certain wide-eyed look to their faces, as if speed is of utmost importance.

Envoy notes the bandages. Perhaps she's being taken to a medical lab.

And as the black-robed Inquisitor and her prisoner leave the cell block, a last sobbing breaks the air. "What more do you want? I can't… I can't… "

But by now, the voice is too far away to make out any more than what might be, after all, only imagined words.

The caracal whispers something to the Skreek as she begins to ascend the staircase leading up to the higher levels of the temple.

Envoy examines the stairs for signs of wear.

The Skreek bobs his head in agreement. "Of course, mistress. You are most wise, mistress."

Little gouges greet Envoy's eyes, some showing long scrapes, others mere dimples in the stubbornly tough plastic that makes up the steps.

Faline steps out of the stairwell and into a larger hallway. She pauses, as if getting her bearings, and then turns sharply to the right. Her black tipped tail flicks slowly behind her.

Envoy follows along, wondering what this section of the Temple is used for.

The hallway opens out into a larger hall. Some of the lighting actually works! Other panels flicker, first dark, then pulsating, then a pale moon-like light, before dying again. The smell of antiseptic wafts past Envoy's nose as the three pass a pair of closed doors, two round windows set into them. Numbers and letters are marked boldly every few blocks.

Envoy says, "What is this section used for?"

More closed doors pass by, one marked 'M DIC L SCI N E L B 15-A'. The writing has been eroded by the passage of time and repeated well-intentioned efforts to keep the smooth white surface clean.

"Testing." Faline answers. She reaches another junction in the hallway and this time makes a left turn. The hallway slopes upward ever so slightly,

Envoy says, "Testing what?"

A trio of red- and white-robed priests pass through an intersection ahead of Envoy and Faline, two carrying what must be toolkits of some sort, the third holding a staff that thumps rhythmically on the floor. The tip has been carved into the head of a Naga with fangs bared. They exchange mutters between themselves. "Quickly! You're sure we have the right antivenin?" "Yes. He'll live. We've got him stabilized."

The inquisitrix doesn't bother to reply. She just quietly continues down the corridor until she finally reaches a door. A gold furred hand emerges from its hiding place in her long sleeve and raps sharply on the door. One… twice… and then two more knocks in rapid succession.

No answer. The Skreek starts cycling the door open, onto what looks almost familiar to Envoy, save that it's so… bare.

"All is ready," the Skreek says to Faline as he bows.

Faline nods to the rat and gestures for Envoy to enter. "Your reward awaits."

Envoy looks around the room… probably the cleanest one she's seen to date in the Temple.

Strands of dust indicate where the room has been cleaned out recently, most likely swept out by industrious Savanites. A heavy knife-switch rests in a panel just over the desk. Its black handle glistens.

Envoy smiles and looks for the interface helmet.

"Please sit down." the caracal says, indicating the 'dentist's chair'. Indeed… there is a helmet attached to it.

Envoy sits in the chair as requested.

The Skreek hurries into the room and starts pulling out the straps. "You must put your arms here, and here, so that I can put these on," he says in a low voice to Envoy. "There are many preparations to make. Would not want bad in-ter-phaze, would we?"

Faline cycles the door closed, and then closes the panel on the wall as well.

Envoy places her arms in the restraints.

The Skreek pulls the straps tight, then does Envoy's legs as well. He fumbles about in his robes for something. "Ah! The drug. Very important. Must have." He looks over at Inquisitor Faline as if for approval.

Envoy blinks, "What drug? What does it do?"

The inquisitrix walks to the desk and puts on a pair of thick leather gloves. "There was an accident last time you used the helmet." she says. "This will insure that all will go smoothly this time."

The Skreek pats Envoy's hand. "Very important. Ensures good in-ter-phaze. Rhiul prepared just for you. Rhiul is very good… chemist."

Envoy says, "What is the drug made of? Will it cause me to lose consciousness?"

"Details not important," the Skreek says. "Rhiul uses only best herbs. Very expensive now, with pirates attacking good honest merchants." The rat sniffs disdainfully, then takes out a syringe, rubs the tip with some brownish liquid that smells of alcohol, and dips it into a vial, piercing the thin top. He pulls the handle to draw forth a straw-colored liquid.

Envoy says, "What will it do though?"

"It is finest-quality Breath of Holy Spirit," Rhiul says as if offended by Envoy's suspiciousness. "It brings you closer to the Inner Mysteries. You will see more."

"According to our records there is someting very… unusual about your brain chemistry." Faline says. "The drug will fool the helmet into thinking that your mind is that of a normal person… and not as a potential threat as it did last time." she folds her gloves hands behind her back. "Show some trust, Envoy. If Nimiss wanted you dead… he could have had you killed easily in jail. You're much too valuable for him to lose."

Envoy stops questioning, and nods.

The Skreek nods. "That, too." He pats Envoy's arm, looking for a vein.

Envoy clenches her fist to make her veins more prominent.

While the Skreek works, Faline glides across the room. Her hand gingerly reaches out to the knife switch. "Give me the signal when you are ready, Rhiul."

"Ah! Very good. It will be very easy." Saying this, the Skreek jabs the needle into Envoy's arm and plunges the handle down, flooding her vein with the drug.

Envoy relaxes her arm as soon as the needle goes in, and waits for whatever effect the drug causes to begin.

The Skreek nods to Faline. "All is ready," he says, then beams showing yellow and crooked teeth.

The inquisitrix nods and yanks the switch downwards.

*CLANK!* And the world abruptly disappears into blackness.

Envoy orders her thoughts. "Computer?"

The blackness swirls around… And before Envoy's eye glitters a symbol: the Star and Anchor.

Envoy tries to mentally reach out towards the icon.

"Neurological interface… complete," a voice says from nowhere. "Matching psychometric parameters. Synchronizing frame rate. Warning! Operator neurochemical imbalance detected. Attempting to correct… " The icon blurs and ripples before Envoy's eyes.

Envoy wonders HOW the machine will try to correct things…

The icon dissolves away into blackness… Then is replaced by five other icons all wavering. From left to right, they are: a stylized hand, an eye, a symbol that looks like a diamond crossed by a slash, three lines stacked one atop the other, all horizontal, and a starburst. The blackness begins to shimmer with color streaks. "Select interface," the voice advises as if through a long pipe.

"Subject has been encoded with necessary information." "Growth process activating." "Corrupted memory block on section A43X… compensating."

Envoy says, "What type of interface does each symbol represent?"

Other voices whisper back and forth behind Envoy, most of them repeating long series of numbers, others issuing random alerts. "Priority message on communication queue four." "Chromadyne retina in hyperspatial sensor bank 14-7 has failed. Please replace immediately. Sensor measurements will be highly impaired until replacement completed… "

Envoy considers the ordering of the symbols, and decides they must be ranked by speed of access, with the hand being the slowest and the starburst being the fastest. She 'reaches' for the starburst, while still trying to listen to all of the subprocessor voices.

"Operator has requested… " The voice fades and then comes back in again. "… indicates weapons and defense systems. Fourth indicates… "

Click.

The other icons fade away, and then the starburst begins to approach Envoy at high speed – larger, eight arms sweeping out to all sides, blinding white, the blackness fading away…

"DNA intact. Subject have survived decanting. All mental functions stable." "Subject two shows signs of potential instability – re-encode or ignore?" "Fluid levels low, initiating renewal now."

Envoy reconsiders her choice based on that soundbite. Hand must be some sort of physical controls, Eye would be sensors, and the starburst would be astrogation. The lines are weapons and defense… so the barred diamond must be data retrieval. She reaches for the diamond.

And colored shapes begin to appear through the whiteness that surrounds Envoy, the light fading away to show… Some sort of bar-room, lit by lamps which hold pulsating shapes. At the bar, a white rabbit wearing a top-hat sits next to a black-haired man dressed in a trenchcoat, a scar whitening his cheek. What Envoy is now reaching for seems to be the starburst-insignia on the chest of a slim white-haired uniformed woman, her cuffs showing the Star-and-Anchor symbol of the Temple.

"May I help you, Operator?" the woman says, her human face – a human? Here? – neutral.

Envoy says, "What is the function of this interface?"

The rabbit casually talks to his companion in an odd series of numbers, who responds by speaking about weather patterns.

"You have selected auxil… ," the woman says. Her voice fades in and out irritatingly, as if some sort of static had crept into the interface. "From here, you may access the Psychology Dep… " More static. "-ary, and communications. How may I help you?"

The bartender, a heavy-set leonine of some sort, puts a mug under a barrel and turns the spigot, producing a rainbow stream of liquid. He clanks the tankard onto the bar. "Here's yours, Operator," he says.

Envoy hmms. "I require maintenance and records. Can you access time-based records for me?"

"75982-572987-56983-27698!" the rabbit yells at the bartender, holding up two fingers.

A starmap on one wall flickers and changes to an aged-looking parchment map of Sinai, the three major continents edged by thin sepia lines that ripple to suggest ocean currents.

"Certainly, I'll transfer… " The woman continues to speak as she takes Envoy's hand and leads her to a door. "… gineering is regrettably in poor – "

*blit!*

The woman has vanished entirely. How strange…

Envoy frowns. This weird interface is not as efficient as the unbuffered one she first encountered.

"Subsector reset in progress," a voice calls over the intercom next to the door. "There is no need to be – (static) – this is merely a routine mainten – (static)… "

Envoy heads for the doorway the avatar was leading her to.

"Encoding process on subject one unsucessful." the dark human says. "Recommend multiple matrix patterns for optimum mental performance."

Envoy looks back to the scarred man at the bar, and pauses. "Are you creating a rem… a lifeform?"

The door slides open to reveal a cluttered-looking room with books on and nearby shelves, a long padded couch, and a slim, short human woman with sproingy-looking coiled hair of auburn. She also wears the Star-and-Anchor insignia of the Temple on her cuffs, but her chest insignia is that of twin eyes inscribed into a circle.

Envoy doesn't wait for the man to respond, but goes through the doorway before it vanishes.

Several panels flicker with rapidfire information near her, some showing brief views of scenes in the Temple.

Envoy asks the woman, "Are you in charge of maintenance and engineering, or information storage?"

One screen in particular seems to show a cheetah carrying a mandolin and hurrying through the corridors. It follows her for a moment before she vanishes beyond the reach of the hidden eye's view.

Envoy wonders if the surveilance functions are available through other types of interfaces, and will have to ask if she gets the chance.

Vertical streaks appear for a moment… Is that a familiar tuft-eared, wildcat-looking face speaking out of another screen? Whatever it is, the eye does not convey any information, only pulls back to show that he is speaking with a Cervani, and both are dressed in uniforms.

Envoy asks the avatar, "Which sections still have working surveillance? Are you a representation of one of the original crew members?"

The human bends down to peer at Envoy. "Subject shows obvious signs of stress." She gives the aeolun a lollipop. "Do you have a prefered method of treatment?"

The door behind Envoy slowly fades to become part of the elegant woodwork paneling, the grains of dark and light woods soothing.

It's an orange-scented lollipop.

Envoy says, "Yes. Access to information will reduce my stress."

Envoy sucks on the lollipop. There isn't enough sugar in the gruel she's been living on.

"That is not a known treatment." the human answers. "Please state prefered method of treatment."

The lollipop tastes sweet… With an underlying current of electricity. A curious sensation.

One of the screen appears to have become a painting… But continues to move. It depicts the mage Isstan, appearing to sleep in a huge nest of blankets… Bloodstains streak his scaley cheeks.

Envoy frowns slightly, "Is there someone else I could talk to? I need… " she pauses at the sight of Isstan. But wasn't he being flown back to the Nagai Empire?

Envoy says, "Where is that image coming from??"

The painting has become a still life. A coiled snake in a fruit bowl.

The human stands upright. "Subject has not chosen a treatment. Reverting to system control… electrotherapy." The lollipop in Envoy's mouth begins giving off more than a little electricity now – it sends screaming jolts into her mouth.

Envoy's physical body jerks in response!

The room flickers…

"Stop treatment!" she cries out!

It fades back into place… Now appearing to be a salon of some sort, huge windows looking out onto a majestic city that does not appear to be Rephidim. Minarets rise toward the sky, obscuring the view of a spaceport. Envoy finds herself on the padded couch, and the human woman, now wearing a short dress-jacket and floofled blouse and a short dress sitting next to her.

Envoy blinks at the transition. "Where am I now?"

The human reaches into a pocket in her jacket and pulls out a deck of cards. She holds one up to Envoy, on it is a picture of a snow-dusted mountain. "What do you see here?"

Envoy says, "A mountain. Are you conducting crew candidate evaluations for the starship?"

"Wrong guess!" The human says in her sugar coated voice. She holds up a second card… this one shows a picture of the chamber of the priest-king. "What do you see?"

The card almost seems to move, shadows stretching across the length of the floor, framing jagged patches of light. Perhaps this is what the room looks like now, destroyed as the City of Hands has been.

Envoy blinks. "The chamber of the last Priest-King of the Savanite Empire, after his transformation to an immortal form."

Shattered shells of what might once have been tentacles or roots crawl across the card's surface, broken pipes.

Envoy says, "Are you trying to access my memories?"

"Wrong again!" the human giggles. She shuffles her deck.

Someone knocks at the door.

Envoy turns to look at the door. "Should I answer the door?" she asks the woman.

"Of course you should." the woman responds. "It's for you afterall."

The door is, like the rest of the salon, of an eloquent woodwork that speaks of grace that is recognized in any century, simple curves that form the appearance of a winged form, stylized. The doorknob is in the form of a hand clenched into a fist, protruding from its surface.

Envoy reaches for the hand, and tries pulling and turning it.

*click* The door opens… onto a ceramic corridor. Before Envoy stands a familiar tuft-eared form, a digitigrade lynx wearing a fitted Temple uniform and wearing the diamond and slash upon his left breast. Even his voice sounds right, highlights rippling a little across his black hair as he nods to Envoy. "Well, you've gotten yourself into quite a fix, haven't you, 'Operator'?"

Envoy blinks. "I have?"

The human continues shuffling her cards, a mysterious smirk begins to play across her lips.

The lynx nods. "Unless you'd like to experience more of our friend's psychological treatments, you should come with me." He holds a hand out.

Envoy takes the lynx's hand, and asks, "Are you accessing my memories to produce this image?"

"Image?" The too-familiar lynx smiles and shakes his head. "No, no. I thought that you looked a bit lost and in need of help. What were you trying to do now? I don't think we've had an operator come by in, oh… Hundreds of years at least."

He conducts Envoy out of the salon, the door sliding shut to become just another hatch, and proceeds down the corridor. "Mm. Now, where shall we go?"

Envoy smiles! Finally, some useful information! "I'm trying to find out the condition of the computer and this ship, and any information on the original mission."

The lynx chuckles. "Ah, back to basics, eh? Well, I could start giving you a run-down, but… " He looks over at Envoy mysteriously. "I'm not sure you have the time that it would take to sit through the full lecture. Come, let's head this way. Ship's library!" He calls to the open air. The floor immediately lights with alternating blue and gold dots.

Envoy begins to get excited. A library!

The lynx follows the trail. "So, what brings you here, other than wanting to get a little refresher course, hmm, Envoy?"

Envoy says, "How did you know my name?"

"I know everyone," the lynx says. He flashes a grin to the winged unicornoid.

Envoy accepts that, and says, "The descendants of the Expedition have forgotten their origins, and replaced them with legends and religious trappings. I thought it best that someone preserve the knowledge while the ships systems still functioned."

Envoy's glance to one room shows a walrus sitting atop a rock, apparently involved in some sort of discourse with several oysters wearing little bow-ties. The reek of sea air washes out into the corridor.

"Hmmmm. A commendable objective," the lynx says. "But surely you realize that religious doctrines are very hard to change? Do you really want to play a martyr?"

Envoy says, "I don't have to change anything. The knowledge is too important to risk to entropy."

"So, you have no intention of using the knowledge for any particular purpose? It will make you happy just to know it?" The lynx stops in front of another room, in which several people are playing cards with bored looks. One of them slaps down a hand showing four kings and a joker and raises an eyebrow at the other one.

Envoy says, "Yes, it will. If others ask about it, I can give it to them as well."

Envoy says, "Although I doubt anyone out there can really understand it at this point."

The lynx winks. "Ah, the old hermit on the mountain trick. People put a higher value on anything that is withheld, thinking that it must be precious."

Envoy just looks confused at that remark. Hermits live in the sea and use the shells of dead animals for homes. They don't live on mountains.

The other player puts his cards down, showing… The ace of spades, the two of hearts, the three of diamonds, the four of clubs, and the Archpriest, a tarot-like card showing a regal-looking Savanite holding a wand tipped with an infinity symbol. "Hah!" The first player groans.

The lynx starts moving again. "If I were you, I'd decide on some sort of plan for change. Even if you could somehow copy all of this ship's vast resources into memory, which I highly doubt, if you were to be killed because someone thought you threatened the status quo, then it'd still be gone. You'll have to think harder."

Envoy says, "Did the mission planners know their Expedition would be stranded here? Was that the purpose, to seed a world free from outside interference?"

"Many things rarely go according to plan," the lynx says after a short pause, walking along the blue-and-gold path. "To that, you'll have to decide for yourself."

Envoy glances at the rooms they pass, and asks, "Why does the ships mind create all of these people here?"

The lynx turns left in a marbled plaza, where the ceiling rises to a skylight showing an infinity of stars. Looking upward, Envoy can barely see what seems to be a stylized eye with several strokes leading away from its corner, perhaps some sort of irregularity in the glass…

"What people?" The lynx stops in front of a large ornate golden door, the flat surfaces gleaming in the fluorescent lights, surrounded by an intricate knotwork pattern and ending at the right in a gem-studded circle framing a keyhole. "Ah! Here we are. Just a moment."

The lynx rummages around in his uniform, then produces a large key that seems eerily familiar to Envoy, the shaft at least a half inch thick and the handle wrought into a compass rose.

Envoy blinks. "You ARE reading my memories… or else that odd drug is making me hallucinate. Am I hallucinating?"

Envoy wonders if she is simply perceiving the 'concept' of a key, and adding her own definition to it. But that wouldn't explain the detailed, alien city she saw through the windows.

The lynx looks at Envoy reprovingly. "An old philosophical question," he reproves. "But I think, therefore I am. If you begin to regard what you perceive as false, you'll wind up questioning yourself, and then… Piff! Out like a candleflame. Now, pay attention."

Envoy says, "I always pay attention."

The lynx inserts the key into the lock and starts to turn it. "Follow my directions precisely. Go seventeen aisles in, turn right, go five rows down, then turn left, and stop at index 512. You'll find information on the Mission there. I'm afraid they've been moved off-line, but you should be able to retrieve the actual record at any of the readers. Don't get lost though. It's a big place."

Envoy says, "Is there a librarian?"

"Yes," the lynx answers. "But like many of the ship's systems, the librarian is a little… erratic." He finishes turning the key, then pushes in on the door.

The door opens into a darkly lit library, revealing row upon row upon row of shelves, most of them containing slabs of some crystalline substance. Little threads of crystals glitter upon the floor.

Envoy follows the directions to index 512, glancing down every stack she passes and wondering just how much information is represented here.

The lynx looks after the disappearing Exile's back as she enters the stacks. "Good luck, and may knowledge serve you better than it has we," he mutters. He shuts the door and heads down the corridor on another mysterious errand.

Index 512. Like the other shelves, illuminated by a mysterious light that lights the titles only on this section. There are such useful-sounding titles as 'Mission Purpose and Profile, vol. 2 of 15', 'Original Ship Crew and Inventory, Navigation section 5', and 'Mission Contingency Plan A/Wartime', followed by volumes B, C, and so forth to ZZ.

Each of the crystals titled on the shelves is a foot-wide and high slab with a handy pull-tab at one side, an inch thick, the inside shimmering with rainbow light.

Envoy frowns as she spots several omissions in the ordering, but grabs the first available volume anyway.

A little caterpillar-like creature crawls along the top of the shelf, wearing spectacles.

Envoy blinks at the caterpillar, and asks, "Are the reading device, or the librarian?"

The caterpillar blinks slowly at Envoy, then continues to tread on… As she looks about, she catches more signs of minute life all around the library. Bookwyrms like the one that she first saw ignore her, and somewhere far away, some heavy-breathing, grunting presence makes clattery noises.

The volume that Envoy holds appears to be titled: "On the History and Philosophy of the Mission. A treatise by Dr. Lynnx Adorenn."

Envoy blinks at the name, and tries to open the volume.

No luck… Evidently this crystal is not the sort of thing that one opens like a book and reads.

Envoy looks around for a 'reader', assuming it will be the first unrecognizable object she sees.

Fortunately, as the mysterious lynx promised, Envoy remembers passing an alcove with some sort of screen next to a slot, some sort of contraption before it that must be a universally adjustable chair. If she can figure out how to work the adjustments…

Unfortunately… The shelves seem to have changed while Envoy went on.

A clattering noise continues down in the library, and the configuration of the corridors now resembles a maze. A tiny silver ball of thread rolls near Envoy, stopping at her feet.

Envoy frowns, and wishes now that she'd taken more than the one volume, in case the way back has changed.

Envoy picks up the thread, and something stirs in her memory. Something about threads and labyrinths and a large creature that breathes heavy. She heads for the reader alcove as fast as she can.

The hurrying Exile passes a vine that creeps down one of the pillars that supports the high-vaulted ceiling of the library. Its leaves are spiny, flickering slowly.

Envoy gives the vine as wide a berth as possible in the space between the stacks.

Envoy presses the crystal against her horn as she hurries. She knows the computer can transfer a large amount of information in a short time when it wants to…

More clattering follows. Shelves appear to be moving… Was it back this way? Or that? The way directly toward the alcove is blocked by a shelf, and atop that shelf, another bookwyrm stops and looks at Envoy as she presses the crystal against her horn. Nothing useful seems to have happened…

The bookwyrm continues to crawl onward.

Envoy spreads her wings, but also checks to see if the ceiling is still there and still high…

Envoy goes over to the nearest shelf, and tests to see if it will support her weight. If she can climb to the top of the stack, she'll have enough room to take flight and find a reader.

The shelf holds… And soon enough, by bracing herself on both sides of the aisle, Envoy manages to climb to the top. The bookwyrm hisses at her, startlingly, and skitters away at double speed.

Envoy stands atop the stack and looks around, trying to get her bearings.

Beyond, just past the alcove, some hideous monster must be moving about, for the shelves turn and tilt as if it were pushing them out of its way. Closer, what appears to be a gleaming shaft of light protrudes from a pedestal. The tops of the shelves afford Envoy a maze of their own, one that she could walk upon easily, though flying might be a bit more hazardous.

Envoy decides moving away from the monster is the reasonable course of action, no matter how unreasonable the world around her is. She never expected the computer to be dreaming! She moves towards the shaft of light as fast as she can across the tops of the shelves.

More skittering and screeching sounds from the horde of bats that flap away from Envoy's rapid progress, startled by the sound of someone moving through the darkened aisles. The pale light that illuminated the titles before does not now appear to accompany her – perhaps she's beyond their sensory reach.

Envoy calls out as she runs, "Computer! Can you hear me??"

And … here it is! The light glows from what looks like a familiar Prince's sword, the moon-rippled blade thrust into the pedestal. The writing on the stone reads, "Omnia mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis."

Envoy blinks. What is she supposed to do with a sword? She looks around the pedestal for a reading machine.

No response. The shuffling noise gets closer. The alcove, Envoy seems to remember, is just there… Across a couple shelves blocking the way.

Something very large shakes the floor with each step it takes.

Envoy makes a decision, and reaches for the sword. At least she'll have some light that way.

The sword pulls free in Envoy's hand… And the bookshelves change to plain stone walls, the ceiling receding into mossy darkness. The floor feels rough under her feet.

A soundless change, it ripples outward like a stone sunken into a pond would, save that it is the very nature of the Library that has altered. Heavy breathing gets closer.

"No! I want the library back!" Envoy tries to replace the sword into the pedestal.

Where the pedestal was, now is a rock that contains the same mysterious writing: Omnia mutantur, et nos mutamur in illis. And the crystal that Envoy held, is now a heavy book… Locked with a brass clasp. Her gaze draws toward the alcove in one of the thick pillars… It is still there, visible from the top of its arch.

Clank! The sword scrapes sparks from the rock.

The breathing draws closer… And a horned shadow appears on the floor of the plaza where Envoy stands. The being that casts it lumbers forward.

Envoy rushes for the alcove, trying to hold the awkward book and sword at the same time. Whether it is an effect of the normalizing drug or something innate, several odd sensations are rising in Envoy. She can't decide if she's feeling fear, frustration, or rage… but doesn't like any of the choices in any case. "Go away!" she shouts back at the creature, and fumbles with the clasp of the book.

The alcove lies just ahead of Envoy now… But so does the horned figure. It is an amazing sight, stag-horned, raccoon-nosed, black rings around its eyes, heavy-furred, three-fingered paws bearing huge talons and long hindquarters that end in cloven hooves. A wall tilts away from it, before sliding with a clanking into another position. It chuffs and stares directly at Envoy.

Envoy stares right back at the monster, emotions barely restrained now. "Why are you blocking me! I'm no threat to you, so just let me do what I'm made for!"

The monster's yellow eyes fix on Envoy… And then it reaches forth a paw, palm upward, for the book that she carries. It grumbles an interrogatory noise.

The sword weighs heavily in Envoy's hand. The Prince she once knew was a strong person, well able to carry such a weapon around, but it gets heavier by the minute in her clutch.

Envoy clutches the book to her chest and steps back, then tosses the sword at the monster instead. "You never would have looked for this book on your own! You're afraid of it because it's the truth!"

The monster staggers back before the sword… And disappears in a flash of light as the blade stabs through its heart. Alarms begin to blare everywhere, hunting horns ringing from near and far.

Envoy blinks in surprise, then rushes towards the alcove once again.

"Warning! Subsystem has failed," a neutral feminine voice says. "Reset now in progress. Do not be alar – " Static hisses.

The alcove is just ahead, a key hanging from a hook. Caterpillars hiss back and forth to each other excitedly, their whispers sounding almost like voices…

The floor divides into tiles which begin to fade away to black, as if falling away into nothingness…

Envoy grabs for the key! Maybe she can unlock the clasp before everything shuts down!

Her hand clutches around the key, which… snaps and shatters, the ring breaking away from the hook. The floor below has completely disappeared, and Envoy plunges into blackness. That impersonal voice far away chimes, "Rebooting ship library's artificial per… "

And then the heart of darkness swallows Envoy up entirely.