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…were polite enough。
〃They get no news out here；〃 Pie explained。 〃They just get sent prisoners to look after。 N'ashap knows there was a plot against the Autarch； but I don't believe he knows whether it's been successful or not。 They've quizzed me for hours； but they haven't really asked about us。 I just told them we were friends of Scopique's； and we'd heard he'd lost his sanity； so we came to visit him。 All innocence； in other words。 And they seemed to swallow it。 But they get supplies of food； magazines； and newspapers every eight or nine days…always out of date； Aping says…so our luck may not hold out too long。 Meanwhile I'm doing what I can to keep them both happy。 They get very lonely。〃
The significance of this last remark wasn't lost on Gentle； but all he could do was listen and hope his healing wouldn't take too long。 There was some easing in his muscles； allowing him to open and close his eyes； swallow； and even move his hands a little； but his torso was still pletely rigid。
His other regular visitor； and by far the most entertaining of those who came to gawk； was Scopique； who had an opinion on everything； including the patient's rigidity。 He was a tiny man； with the perpetual squint of a watchmaker and a nose so upturned and so tiny his nostrils were virtually two holes in the middle of his face； which was already gouged with laugh lines deep enough to plant in。 Every day he would e and sit on the edge of Gentle's bed； his gray asylum clothes as crumpled as his features； his glossy black wig never in the same place on his pate from hour to hour。 Sitting； sipping coffee； he'd pontificate： on politics； on the various psychoses of his fellow inmates； on the subjugation of L'Himby by merce； on the deaths of his friends； mostly by what he called despair's slow sword； and； of course； on Gentle's condition。 He had seen people made rigid in such a fashion before； he claimed。 The reason was not physiological but psychological； a theory which seemed to carry weight with Pie。 Once； when Scopique had left after a session of theorizing； leaving Pie and Gentle alone； the mystif poured out its guilt。 None of this would have e about； it said； if it had been sensitive to Gentle's situation from the beginning。 Instead； it had been crude and unkind。 The incident on the platform at Mai…ke was a case in point。 Would Gentle ever forgive it？ Ever believe that its actions were the product of ineptitude； not cruelty？ Over the years it had wondered what would happen if they ever took the journey they were taking； and had tried to rehearse its responses； but it had been alone in the Fifth Dominion； unable to confess its fears or share its hopes； and the circumstances of their meeting and departure had been so haphazard that those few rules it had set itself had been thrown to the wind。
〃Forgive me；〃 it said over and over。 〃I love you and I've hurt you； but please； forgive me。〃
Gentle expressed what little he could with his eyes； wishing his fingers had the strength to hold a pen； so that he could simply write I do； but the small advances he'd made since his resurrection seemed to be the limit of his healing； and though he was fed and bathed by Pie； and his muscles massaged； there was no sign of further improvement。 Despite the mystif's constant words of encouragement； there was no doubt that death still had its finger in him。 In them both； in fact； for Pie's devotion seemed to be taking its own toll； and more than once Gentle wondered if the mystif's dwindling was simply fatigue； or whether they were symbi…otically linked after their time together。 If so； his demise would surely take them both to oblivion。
He was alone in his cell the day the suns came out again； but Pie had left him sitting up； with a view through the bars； and he was able to watch the slow unfurling of the clouds and the appearance of the subtlest beams； falling on the solid sea。 This was the first time since their arrival that the suns had broken over the Chzercemit； and he heard a chorus of wele from other cells； then the sound of running feet as guards went to the parapet to watch the transformation。 He could see the surface of the Cradle from where he was sitting； and felt a kind of exhilaration at the imminent spectacle； but as the beams brightened he felt a tremor climbing through his body from his toes； gathering force as it went until by the time it reached his head it had force enough to throw his senses from his skull。 At first he thought he'd stood up and run to the window…he was peering out through the bars at the sea below…but a noise at the door drew his gaze around to meet the sight of Sco…pique； with Aping at his side； crossing the cell to the sallow； bearded derelict sitting with a glazed expression against the far wall。 He was that man。
〃You have to e and see； Zacharias！〃 Scopique was enthusing； putting his arm beneath the derelict and hoisting him up。
Aping lent a hand； and together they began to carry Gentle to the window； from which his mind was already departing。 He left them to their kindness； the exhilaration he'd felt like an engine in him。 Out and along the dreary corridor he went； passing cells in which prisoners were clamoring to be released to see the suns。 He had no sense of the building's geography； and for a few moments his speeding soul lost its way in the maze of gray brick； until he encountered two guards hurrying up a flight of stone stairs and went with them； an invisible mind； into a brighter suite of rooms。 There were more guards here； forsaking games of cards to head out into the open air。
〃Where's Captain N'ashap？〃 one of them said。
〃I'll go and tell him；〃 another said； and broke from his rades towards a closed door； only to be called back by another； who told him； 〃He's in conference…with the mys…tif；〃 the reply winning a ribald laugh from his fellows。
Turning his spirit's back on the open air； Gentle flew towards the door； passing through it without harm or hesitation。 The room beyond was not； as he'd expected； N'ashap's office but an antechamber； occupied by two empty chairs and a bare table。 On the wall behind the table hung a painting of a small child； so wretchedly rendered the subject's sex was indeterminate。 To the left of the picture； which was signed Aping； lay another door； as securely closed as the one he'd just passed through。 But there was a voice audible from the far side： Vigor N'ashap； in a little ecstasy。
〃Again！ Again！〃 he was saying； then an outpouring in a foreign tongue； followed by cries of 〃Yes！〃 and 〃There！ There！〃
Gentle went to the door too quickly to prepare himself for what lay on the other side。 Even if he had…even if he'd conjured the sight of N'ashap with his breeches down and his Oethac prick purple…he could not have imagined Pie loh' pah's condition； given that in all their months together he had never once seen the mystif naked。 Now he did； and the shock of its beauty was second only to that of its humiliation。 It had a body as serene as its face； and as ambiguous； even in plain sight。 There was no hair on any part of it； nor nipples； nor navel。 Between its legs； however； which were presently spread as it knelt in front of N'ashap； was the source of its transforming