“All the worlds this close to our home are known to us, fool,” she said. “Our god watches over us as we travel, and whispers what we find to our priests. We have maps in our minds, and we leave markers on our trails. We know the places to go to sleep in order to wake where we wish. How do you think we organized the assault on your precious Sleeperhold? You have your fancy chariots. But we have god on our side.”

  “And yet you still want the chariots,” I said.

  The cultist chuckled. “Our god is a jealous god.”

  I turned to Zaveta. “What do you think?”

  She said hmm, and then spoke to me in her language. “I think the Prisoner wants you to find Minna, and since you also want to find Minna, you can use the Prisoner’s desire to fulfill your own. Once you and Minna are reunited, we can leave the worm-sister dead in a ditch.”

  “We don’t murder people, Zaveta–”

  “Alive in a ditch, then. Tied up. I am not unreasonable.”

  I thought it over. I sighed. “I’m going to untie the cultist’s legs so we don’t have to carry her everywhere.”

  “I wonder what we will find in the next world?” Zaveta said as I sawed at the hairy bindings. “The Prisoner said there are people there who need help. I do not trust that creature, but I also do not see why it would lie about that.”

  “If there are people who need help, we’ll try to help them,” I said.

  As a guiding principle, that one has yet to fail me. When everything around you changes all the time, you have to find some constant within yourself to hold on to.

  Ana

  I pause this chronicle of times gone by for a dispatch from the present: I found Minna.

  Or, rather, she found me. She’s got her own sleepercar, using her traveling ability to power it, while the crystal-intelligencein-gemstone-form, Vicki, does the driving by interfacing with the controls in that spooky technology-manipulating way they have. Minna has been looking for Zax all this time, since the night of the attack, without success – there were just too many possible trails to follow with so much cult activity in the vicinity.

  I told her what I’ve been doing, and she agreed to pause her search for Zax in order to help out. My argument that Zax is probably making his way to the cult homeworld seemed to sway her. She was disappointed about Sorlyn and I getting separated, though. I gather the two of them got quite close during their time on the Sleeperhold – closer than I’d realized. I guess Sorlyn figured out a way to flirt that she could understand after all. I hope they can find each other again, when this is all over, if not before. Anyway. With her help, things are going to go much faster in the endgame.

  She told me some wild stuff about the Trypophile trying to recruit her, and says she spied on a bunch of the cultists and overheard all sorts of stuff about their tenets and beliefs, which reinforce and expand on the weird bits I’ve gathered. The Cult of the Worm worships the Prisoner, some kind of possibly imaginary entity that supposedly dwells between worlds, and produces those parasites they call “sacraments”. Exactly why the cult is spreading the sacrament around is still unclear, though we guess it has something to do with freeing the Prisoner from… wherever. The void in between, probably. I wonder if those holes and worms I saw were the Prisoner, or aspects of it… not that I even necessarily believe such a being exists. The Theoretical Big Worm in the Void watches us, too, apparently, through the cracks in reality, though Minna says it can’t always see her. Apparently the Prisoner can only peer into places its worms have been, maybe even only in specific locations where the infected have been, and since Minna travels without a parasite, the Prisoner only has eyes on her when she crosses a worm-trail. Still, if any of that’s true, I’d better get even sneakier…

  Anyway: back to the past.

  In the next world, we took one look outside the dome and decided not to venture forth; there was a red dust storm out there, and we couldn’t see anything anyway. I told Sorlyn what Winsome had told me, about the linguistic virus and the Lector and everything else.

  Sorlyn almost looked worried. “If there is a potion that grants people the ability to travel, like the parasite does, but without the presence of the worm… that explains the peculiar trail this Lector left behind him. He is still doing damage to the multiverse, making cracks in space-time, but not exactly the same sort of damage as that wrought by the worm. We must tell Toros.”

  “Winsome and I think we should get to Zax as soon as we can, and warn him–”

  “No.” Sorlyn seldom interrupted me, so I shut up. “We have protocols, Ana. Winsome must be taken to the Sleeperhold, to either join our ranks or be returned to their world, as they wish. It’s also imperative that we tell Toros about the Lector’s power.”

  “But Zax is in danger.”

  Sorlyn frowned. “Ana, everything is in danger. Don’t you see? The cult seems to be limited in the number of worms they can produce. But if they discover that the power of the parasites can be synthesized, manufactured in a lab, they can radically expand their efforts. Imagine dumping vials of that serum into a reservoir, or seeding the clouds so it falls as rain, or even putting it in the refreshment bowl at a party! Instead of creating one traveler at a time, they could create dozens, scores, hundreds. The damage would be incalculable.”

  “We think the potion probably wears off after a while,” I said. “Otherwise the Lector wouldn’t still be chasing Zax. So it’s not as dangerous as the worms–”

  “Even if that’s true, it still alters the entire scope of this war,” Sorlyn said. “I am second-in-command of the Sleepers, head of field operations, and even I am unwilling to make a unilateral decision about the best course of action to follow now. We must go to Toros. If this potion is derived from the blood of the infected… perhaps the cult would experiment on themselves, but I’m sure they’d prefer to bleed the Sleepers dry. There’s the matter of this linguistic virus! If we had such a capability, we could understand what the cultists are saying. We could spy on them, perhaps even infiltrate their ranks and destroy them from within. This is too important.” He looked at me with as much sympathy as I’d ever seen in his eyes. “I know you care about Zax. I have, strangely, come to care for him quite a bit myself, though we’ve never met. He impresses me. But… he has made it this long. I believe he will make it a bit longer.”

  “What if Toros doesn’t want to send me back after Zax?” I said. “You’ll go, obviously, you’re his right hand, but what if this is such a big deal he wants to join you personally?”

  “You are my partner now, Ana. I will not let that change.”

  I’d always been able to convince Sorlyn to bend the rules before, but I couldn’t this time. Like he said, the implications were just too big. And it wasn’t like I could go on without him. I suddenly wished I’d been infected with the parasite. Then I could strap myself into the chariot and I could teach Winsome to pilot and avoid all this consensus business.

  “We’ll go home as fast as we can,” Sorlyn said. “It’s not as if we need to pause to document every world between here and the Sleeperhold again. I’ll stay in my sleeping state as long as I can. I’ll even hook up the damned catheter and the feeding tube, and spend days at a time barely aware. All right?”

  I was slightly mollified. I ran the numbers in my head. Going at top speed, never emerging from the sleepercar, we could get through three worlds in just over an hour, more than sixty worlds in a Sleeperhold-standard day (which was a bit shorter than the days back in my Realm). I had to sleep sometimes too, but Winsome didn’t, and I could show him how to follow a preset path… That still meant more than a week to get home, and then we’d have to brief Toros, and get Winsome settled, and come back, and there was no telling how far ahead of us Zax was already–

  But arguing more would only delay things further, so I said, “Let’s get a move on, then.”

  Sorlyn nodded, but I could tell he’d been braced for more arguments, and was pleased he didn’t have to endure them. He wasn’t actually unflappable; his flaps were just very small and difficult to notice.

  I passed the time as we flickered through worlds and drifted in the dark void by giving Winsome language lessons. The linguistic virus Zax had to share only worked on humanoid brains, unfortunately, and Winsome’s electronic counterpart wasn’t compatible, so the android had to pick things up the old-fashioned way. Winsome was very good at data analysis and synthesis, though, so they learned the Sleeper language faster than I had.

  To help Winsome practice their new language skills, I had them fill me in on everything they knew about what Zax had been up to in the hundreds of worlds since I saw him last. Unfortunately, he couldn’t fill in too many gaps – they’d only traveled together for a couple of weeks before they reached the mansion and lost each other.

  Still, I probed for what I could find out. “I’m surprised he took you with him, after what happened with me, and then with the scientist who betrayed him.”

  “I think he was cautious for a long time after both experiences,” Winsome said. “But I got the sense he was profoundly lonely. I found that fascinating, because where I come from, loneliness is not a condition we experience – every node is precisely calibrated to contain the optimal population, while wherever Zax goes, he is, essentially, a population of one. I thought I might like the opportunity to experience loneliness. Back in that mansion of impossible angles, though, I got more than my fill.” They smiled. “Zax told me he had another companion, in between the Lector and myself – a child from a world of cruelty and pain that Zax rescued and settled in a world more loving and supportive. That experience went some way toward healing his broken trust, I think. I hope I contributed a little as well.”

  That sounded like the Zax I knew, or thought I knew, or hoped I did: someone who repaired his worn-out soul by helping others. I wondered where he’d gotten the child, since, sadly, there were plenty of worlds we’d passed through on Zax’s trail where suffering was the norm. The plasma mines on that living planet, with the evolved parasites who maintained a humanoid population for forced labor? The Vampirium? The clockwork maze, with its ravening gears? The cracked sphere-world with its dying solar panels maintained by an army of dirty-faced scuttlers trading watts for calories? The Threatening Zoo? There were, fortunately, a number of beautiful worlds where Zax could have taken the child, too, and I like to imagine he ended up in that blue city with the fountains of life, or maybe on the mountaintop with the monks of infinite plenty, who’d plied us with food from their gardens, not a shred of suspicion at the arrival of two dirty outsiders who didn’t speak their language. There had been a child there, darting to-andfro in the garden – I even remember thinking, “I guess these monks aren’t celibate, if they’ve got a kid running around,” but perhaps the child was a refugee from a darker world.

  My desire to find Zax only increased after talking to Winsome. It was like dying of thirst, and hearing someone describe a bubbling fountain.

  We finally reached the Sleeperhold, where Winsome was whisked off to new-arrival-orientation. The Sleepers had a whole process for bringing stranded companions into the fold. Winsome hugged me before they left – we’d grown pretty close over the journey, and they told me they were inclined to stay with our group and help the cause, since that was much more interesting than their programmed life back home. I knew the android would be a valuable addition to the crew.

  I do hope Winsome survived the attack.

  After Sorlyn and I briefed Toros, we sat for a while in his office in the lodge while he paced back and forth behind his desk. Finally he turned and looked at us, eyes fervent. “It is vitally important that we find Zax and obtain this linguistic virus. That alone would change everything for us. We could finally gather meaningful intelligence. Ana… I know the situation has grown more dangerous, and I’m reluctant to put you in peril, but Zax knows you, and I think we stand a better chance of recruiting him if you’re on the mission–”

  I snorted. “If you tried to tie me up to keep from going, I’d chew through the ropes and steal a chariot, Toros. I’m not reluctant. I’m eager.”

  He smiled at that. “I sometimes forget what an experienced agent you’ve become. You and Sorlyn have seen more worlds than anyone else in the course of your long pursuit. I almost wish you hadn’t returned, and lost so much ground… but, of course, it’s good that you did. I needed to know. I just hate the idea of something happening to Zax before we find him.”

  “You and me both,” I replied.

  “What about this Lector?” Sorlyn said.

  “If he’s truly learned to synthesize whatever compound the parasites secrete, and if he can make it in quantity…” Toros sat on the edge of his desk, looking down at us, shaking his head. “The cult could infect so many more people, and compound the damage they do to the fabric of reality drastically. We must tell no one of this development. As much as I hate to believe it, there may still be spies in the camp. We don’t want the cult finding out about the serum, or about the linguistic virus either – the latter would be a boon to their recruitment efforts.”

  “So it’s a secret mission, then,” I said.

  “Officially, you’re just continuing your mission to follow and recruit Zax. Which you are. Unofficially… proceed with all possible haste. Don’t bother logging new worlds or doing the usual tests. Just get to Zax. And… recruit this Lector, too, if you can.”

  “He tried to kill Zax and steal his blood!” I said. “You want him to join us?”

  Toros winced. “He sounds like an unsavory character, but if he’s truly capable of such scientific progress, he has a mind to rival Gibberne’s, and we need that kind of help if we’re going to vanquish the cult. Perhaps the Lector can be reasoned with.”

  I crossed my arms and scowled. I’m a pragmatist, so I understood where he was coming from, but at the same time – the Lector tried to hurt Zax.

  “If the Lector doesn’t want to come willingly,” Toros said, “then try to capture him. If he won’t cooperate with you, perhaps we can convince him to help us once we get him back here. By one method or another.”

  “Perhaps we should take the shuttle,” Sorlyn said. “Zax and the Lector will be a tight squeeze in our sleepercar, and if there are other companions, we won’t have room.”

  “What’s the shuttle?” I said.

  “Gibberne made one large trans-dimensional vehicle, capable of holding a greater number of passengers or cargo,” Sorlyn said. “Toros used the shuttle to bring his cousins here, and we take it when we import bulky equipment and supplies, too.”

  Bulky equipment like the automated gun turrets and the creepy, headless robots they were assembling in the camp. I wondered how they’d gotten here, since it seemed unlikely Sleepers had carried them over one armful of components at a time. “Why aren’t all the sleepercars plus-sized?” Our vehicle was elegant, but it was small.

  Sorlyn shrugged. “Apparently there were significant engineering challenges to making a chariot on that scale. A lot of prototypes got torn apart before Gibberne learned to fit the tolerances. It was easier to make most of the vehicles smaller.”

  “The smaller ones are more comfortable anyway,” Toros said. “Transitioning in the shuttle can be bumpy. I don’t like the idea of sending it on such a long trip, Sorlyn – that shuttle is our escape pod if something terrible happens here, and we need to evacuate the camp quickly. There’s enough room for the primary targets in the vehicle you have. If there are more displaced people who need rescue…” He stroked his wild, festooned beard. “I have some things to attend to here, and a lot of missions to outfit, since we’re setting up defenses on the outpost worlds, but once that’s all in motion, I’ll follow after you.”

  “You, personally?” I said.

  “I do go out into the field occasionally,” Toros said. “I found you, didn’t I? Once everything is set in motion, it won’t need my day-to-day oversight. Colubra and my cousins can handle operations for a while. I should only be a few weeks behind you, and you can leave me messages on resting worlds about any stranded companions who need rescue. I’ll either catch up to you, or meet you on your way back. All right?”

  It’s good to have a plan, isn’t it? Possession of a purpose is very clarifying. That’s what was so hard for Zax, I think: he was moving along, for no good reason, and trying to come up with meaning on the fly.

  Sorlyn and I took the afternoon to prepare – I was happy to get a hot shower, and to catch up with Colubra and my other friends, and we restocked our supplies too. Then we set out again, and it was a long trip, flickering through all those worlds again. Sorlyn was barely ever awake, only stopping occasionally to stretch a little. Even so, it took longer to get back to Winsome’s mansion than it had to get home, since I had to sleep occasionally myself. Twenty-one minute cat naps between worlds could only take me so far, and the chariot wasn’t fully automated.

  Have you ever spent that long in a small vehicle, with only brief breaks to stretch your legs or relieve yourself or restock the interior food compartments from the cargo holds? No matter how plush the seats are, or how many electronic books you bring, it is extremely tedious, especially when your traveling companion is unconscious nearly the entire time. I wish I’d thought to start writing my experiences down then, because this process has proven a great boon to filling that time in the void.

  It’s not like we were done once we reached the mansion, either. We just had to keep going, chasing those twin trails, knowing we were even further behind Zax, now. The transitions through worlds took longer after the mansion, because even without our extensive logging of data and charting of worlds, we still had to stop, look around, follow Zax’s trail to its end point, and transition again. Sometimes Zax went a long way through a world, taking advantage of some local conveyance, and we had to skim through the skies of alien realities until we found the termination of his worm-trail.

  We saw many things, but so briefly. Vast stretches of desolate landscape, of course, and assorted forests, and deserts of white and bronze and black and green sand, but more wondrous worlds, too. A golden city in the clouds, but we didn’t have time to fly up and take a look, since Zax had stayed in the canyons on the ground. A factory the size of a city, where meat was grown in vats, and the workers who tended the meat were also grown in vats. A dark plain we thought was populated by gargantuan arthropods like grasshoppers, until we realized they were actually vehicles piloted by diminutive humanoids. An immense hall, full of bottles as tall as skyscrapers in neat ranks on the floor, each one containing a single tree, all different species. A forest clearing full of people in the hooded protective garments of apiarists, tending to beehives so large they grew around the trees, rather than hanging from branches. A smoky, sooty train depot where the trains were conscious machines, howling at one another in a language I was glad I couldn’t understand.