From outside, this area of the chamber had a kind of polarized sheen to it. When she glided into the space it defined, though, she found herself surrounded by stars. The holography was beautiful and precise; she could faintly see the rest of the chamber through it.
Also in this space were several little pens, more like chopsticks. She didn't know whether they were real or projected until she picked one up. It was cool metal, smooth and comfortable to hold. She took another, held them like chopsticks and reached out to pluck a star from the air.
To her amazement, the whole display zoomed in the blink of an eye. Before her was a blazing star, its tiny retinue of planets twinkling next to it. Dozens of tiny crosshairs floated in the display; they could represent asteroids, ships, or colonies. She felt that she was seeing a processed telescopic view and not something completely made up.
She waved the chopsticks and the star retreated to its original position.
Hmm… Rue looked around until she found another set of tiny crosshairs. It was down by her feet, very faint. She reached down and plucked it.
Jentry's Envy soared into view around her. She recognized Lake Flaccid, the red cube and there was the Banshee, balloon-sides glowing with internal light.
Rue wiped her eyes and looked about for the Lasa sphere.
There it was, superimposed over something cylindrical and familiar from the previous chambers she'd navigated. Yes. She was right about what was happening. She selected the sphere and it expanded around her.
Instead of an inner sphere made of metal and with airlock doors in it, though, she found herself floating above a giant sphere of light, with meridianal lines dividing it into many sections. Within each translucent section, small models glowed.
It's a menu. Laughing, she selected an element and it zoomed out around her— leaving a new sphere, its elements composed of variations on the item she had chosen.
She zoomed out, took one chopstick and waved it. It left a glowing line in space. She signed her name in thin air and laughed again.
Then she navigated down the menus until she found a little image of herself and she picked it up and deposited it outside the whole sphere.
The airlock below her blew outward in a big bubble, which opened, swallowed her and her display and closed again. From outside it she suddenly heard a tremendous crunching sound, like a giant's molars consuming a building. And she was moving.
That was okay; she knew where she was going. Rue was in charge of her ship at last.
"IT'S LENGTHENING OUT," said the staffer. "Becoming more cylindrical." Michael could see that with his own eyes now. The black surface was bulking up in places, then the bulges subsided again. It looked for all the world like a man dressing in a too-small survival bag.
"Sir?" asked Barendts.
"Hang on," said Crisler. "I need to know what it's doing."
"The heat signatures are intense," said the staffer. "We're getting radar showing all kinds of turmoil in there, sir. Very large masses in rapid motion."
"What kind? I need more information, damn it."
"Um… I think it would be unwise to send anyone in there at this time, sir. They'd be minced."
A space-suited figure jetted over to Michael. "What do you think?" asked Herat over a private channel.
"She triggered some kind of transformation, that's for sure," said Michael. "But it doesn't make any sense, based on where we were on the sequence. The Lasa were asking us something about how our life is organized, but why would the answer lead to this?"
"Maybe they're like the autotrophs," said Herat. "If we replied that we ate life like them, they might go ballistic. After all, wouldn't that be a major part of their assessment? Seeing what kind of risk we are?"
"I prefer not to believe that they're paranoid, sir."
"You prefer to think she's still alive," said Herat quietly. "So do I, Michael."
"We need to do something!"
"I know. But I don't know what."
The habitat had finished reshaping itself. It was much bigger now and shaped like a shaggy can. Now something started to bud away from one end. A large sphere, black as everything else, but…
Michael spotted a little dot of red on that sphere. The dot grew to become a letter of Lasa writing. Then a whole word emerged.
"The habitat's reappearing!" he shouted.
"I'll be damned," whispered Herat. "It's squirting itself out."
Over the next several minutes, the original Lasa habitat emerged from the end of the black cylinder. The black liquid was draining off it in an orderly way. The habitat seemed unchanged by the strange transformation that had taken place.
"It's given birth," said Herat. He began to laugh. "And what a bunch of nervous fathers we were!"
"Keep the lasers ready," said Crisler. "Marines, check out the Lasa sphere."
"Sir." The squad jetted away, the mesobot following them. Michael watched them approach the red-lettered sphere from its perspective. His head was spinning. Just what had happened here?
The marines found the airlock, now reverted back to its original condition. They stuck some periscopes through it, then one pushed the mesobot in. Michael's view suddenly went black, then came back as the little bot entered the interhull.
Except it was an interhull no longer. The interior of the black Lasa sphere was almost empty— just a smooth collection of arcing reflections from the metal walls. There were only two objects in here now.
One was a large black sphere of roiling ferrofluid, maybe eight meters across. It drifted near the far end of the sphere.
The other object was harder to figure out. It glowed with faery light, even seeming to have wings, or fans of auroral light around it. It too was a sphere, only this sphere was made of crystal or glass.
Inside it Rue Cassels moved in a slow but purposeful dance. Her space suit's helmet was off and he could clearly see the huge grin on her face.
"She's alive," he said.
"Sir, look! The black, it's peeling off the cylinder now!"
Michael brought his view back from the mesobot. Spotlights had the new cylinder outlined and in their glow he could clearly see the black liquid draining away from a bright metal hull. As it crept away from the end caps of the cylinder it revealed glass and the spotlights refracted into some kind of open interior.
"It's a habitat," murmured Herat. "It's built us a habitat."
"Yes, Professor."
It was Rue. Her voice sounded dreamy, jubilant. "It built us a new home, according to my specs. And it's showed me the origin of Jentry's Envy and its course. This habitat is for humans, Professor. It's ours, as part of the Lasa's crew. Jentry's Envy was a gift all along, you see. All we had to do was unwrap it."
Michael turned on his jets and headed for the Lasa habitat. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Herat jetting toward the new one— curiosity getting the better of him, as always. Crisler was shouting for them to remain where they were, but Michael just wanted to make sure Rue was all right and tell her how happy he was that she had succeeded at finding her dream and desperate necessity.
"Decant Max," shouted Rue. "Bring 'em all out! We're going to have a damned big party! And then Jentry's Envy is open for business!"
Behind Michael, Crisler and his men didn't move. For once, the admiral gave no orders.
PART FOUR
Dinner with the Autotroph