"The palace is probably the safest place around, surely?" Yeah, right. As the night's events begin to unfold it soon becomes clear that nobody in the palace is going to get much sleep...

Somewhere Else Entirely

by Penny Lane

8 - A Bump in the Night

Disclaimer: The original characters and plot of this story are the property of the author. No infringement of pre-existing copyright is intended. This story is copyright (c) 2011-2016 Penny Lane. All rights reserved.

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Trivia Note: In this tale, any G that is used in a name is a hard G, as in 'girl', not a soft G as in 'gender'.

What was that?

It was only a small sound, yet it was not one of the natural sounds which a wooden building cooling down after a hot summer's day would normally be making. Garia had only fitfully been asleep in the heat, the single sheet covering her thrown to the bottom of the bed, and the slight sound had made her come awake.

There it is again. Coming from the door!

Completely awake now she rolled off the bed onto the floor and padded softly in her bare feet towards the door, her heart thumping. It was almost impossible to see in the near pitch darkness but she managed to reach the door without bumping into anything. She reached out a hand and very gently touched the handle of the big key with an outstretched finger. It moved, vibrating slightly beneath her touch.

Someone's trying to turn the key from the other side!

She looked at the floor and saw a faint square of lighter darkness at the base of the door.

A sheet of parchment, to catch the key when it falls! Someone's trying to get in!

Swiftly but silently she ran on tip-toe across to the window and carefully but quietly pulled the drapes wide. Inevitably there was some noise and she stood motionless to try and detect if those outside had heard anything. There was a period of silence which seemed to stretch for hours, and she wondered whether she had made the whole thing up in her dreams, and then the noise came again from the door.

What do I do? How do I raise the alarm? Ah! The bell pull!

She moved to the rope beside the fireplace and pulled it several times, hearing nothing.

Perhaps the bell can only be heard in the servants' room, she thought. How do I stop them till help comes?

She moved back to the door and with the slightly better light now available from outside she could see that the key, having been turned, was now slowly being pushed out of the lock. As it came free and began to fall she poked at it with a finger so that it bounced and fell away from the white square which protruded beneath the door. She thought that 'they' might look under the door, try and locate the key, so she made sure she stood to one side so that her feet weren't visible.

Take that, suckers. Wait till Jenet sees you.

There were faint noises from the other side of the door, and she though she caught very low voices at one point. The white square was withdrawn under the door. Then the sounds came again from the region of the keyhole.

Oh, shit! They have a Plan B, they have lock-picking tools. What do I do now?

She silently picked up the big key and waited a few seconds then rammed it into the lock, twisting it viciously until her hands hurt. The key made a quarter turn before jamming solid in the lock.

That was clever. Now their lock-picking tools are jammed in the lock and probably bent as well. Nobody's going to get in here that way. Where is Jenet?

She skipped silently back to the fireplace and pulled the rope again and again. There were other sounds from the door then, sounds of splintering wood.

Oh, shit, shit, shit! These bastards have a Plan C! What am I going to do now? There's nothing in here I can use as a weapon and anyway I'm likely half the size of whoever's outside. I can't let them take me! The window!

Heart pounding, she ran to the window and turned the handle. Both full height panes swung inwards and she leaned out into the warm night air. The roof tiles of the cloister which ran round the herb garden came right up to the sill of the window and she lost no time in climbing out onto the steep slope. Behind her, the sounds of rough treatment got louder. Whoever it was, they weren't going to let a little thing like a jammed lock stop them.

Which way? Left, right, down? Hurry!

In the event things were decided for her. Her feet slipped on the well-glazed tiles and she slithered down the roof to lie flat on her stomach, her fingers just still clutching the window sill. She tried to remember if there was a gutter at the bottom to arrest her flight but her fingers slipped as she tried to twist to look down. Down she slid. There was a gutter, her feet caught in it but it was too low, all it served to do was to pivot her body outwards, away from the steep roof. She sailed downwards into the gloom to land flat on her back in a bed of herbs, and then, since the tops of the shrubs were not level, rolled off to land in a heap on the gravel path with an unlady-like squeak, small stones scattering everywhere.

Winded, she stay still for a few seconds to catch her breath. Amazingly she didn't appear to have damaged very much although she had no doubt that by the morning she would be covered in bruises. Quietly she tried to pull herself into a more comfortable position without disturbing the gravel and thereby making much noise.

It was a false hope, however. As she looked up a pale oval appeared at the dark rectangle of the open window to be followed by a second. A voice came to her softly in the quiet of the night.

"There."

Realizing that her white nightdress made her plainly visible in the gloom she staggered to her feet. If she could get to one of those doors and raise the alarm! She looked up at the window. One of the figures was climbing out! She started to run, to stumble along the gravel paths away from the immediate area. The stones hurt her bare feet. If he jumped down she would have no chance.

What do I do now? There are dim lights in some of those other windows. Perhaps they are bedrooms, perhaps I can attract someone's attention. These people who are after me won't be happy if I raise a ruckus.

She bent and picked up a handful of gravel, flinging it at a window that showed a faint glow. Her first attempt didn't even reach the roof of the cloister.

Oh, no! Why couldn't I have been a proper boy right now? Girls suck at throwing!

Above her one of the figures had now climbed out onto the tiles of the roof. She spun, realizing that it might be better to try for a window on the opposite side of the garden to her own, so that when it was opened the intruder would be visible. A second handful of gravel clattered on the tiles of the cloister roof.

This is ridiculous. I'm surrounded by people and they're going to get me!

She moved closer to that side of the building and grabbed another handful of stones. This time the clattering was of a distinct texture that signified glass. Hurriedly she bent to grab another handful, her heart hammering in her chest, despair beginning to mount at the remorselessness of the chase.

I'm a girl. What a stupid time to have girl reactions. If I had been Gary maybe I would have tried to fight them off. Now, all I can think to do is run away, and that not very well.

Hey, wait a minute.

Garia suddenly realized that girls have access to a resource that no boy would ever have thought of. She filled her lungs and let out the loudest scream she could manage, then once she had recovered her breath, she threw the stones against the window she had hit before. Twisting, she discovered that the figure on the cloister roof had stopped and was now making its way back to the black square of the open window, presumably put off by her scream.

She was just gathering her breath for a second scream when a voice came from behind and above her.

"What's going on? Who's down there?"

"Intruders in the palace!" Garia shouted at the dimly-outlined figure. "Call the palace guard! Save me!"

The figure on the roof was now climbing back into the window and it seemed that the second figure was helping him. Garia didn't know if the person who had opened their own window had seen what was going on opposite but she hoped so. She backed away from that part of the garden, trying to put some distance between herself and trouble.

"Quickly!" she shouted, "They'll get away!"

It must have been at least ten seconds before she heard a high-pitched gong sounding: bing-bing-bing-bing, bing-bing-bing-bing. Very shortly after that a bell began tolling in the distance followed by at least two others. There were shouts in the distance, orders too faint for her to hear. Two of the windows above the cloister around the herb garden now showed brighter lights, perhaps indicating that the occupants had woken up and were preparing to rise.

Suppose they come downstairs and try to take me? They know I'm in the herb garden. What do I do now?

Who do I trust?

In almost a full panic now, she twisted and turned, trying to see if anyone was coming out of any of the doors she knew must open onto this garden. Trouble was, she couldn't distinguish anything under the cloister since it was so dark.

She heard a door flung open at one end of the garden, away from her. She couldn't see anything at all of the man or men who emerged.

"Mistress? What's happened?"

"Intruders! In the palace! They broke into my room! Stop them getting away!"

A group of men spilled out onto the gravel paths between the herb beds, spreading out and starting to approach her. One of the men gave orders, but in the darkness it was difficult to tell what effect they had. At one side she heard another door being opened and turned to see more men emerging, flaring lanterns held high.

Who do I trust?

She began to back away from them, retreating under the cloister, hoping that there wasn't a door behind her, stopping when she felt the plaster of the wall at her back. The sick feeling that she had felt a morning or two ago came back and she began to shiver in the night air. The two groups of men coalesced in the gloom, muttering words too low to distinguish. They began to approach, lanterns held high.

"Stay away from me!" she screamed at them.

"Mistress?"

"Stay away from me!" she repeated loudly. "I don't know that I can trust any of you!"

"Mistress?" the speaker repeated. "I don't understand. Let us help you."

"There were intruders who broke into my bedroom," Garia said to the indistinct figures in front of her, "I don't know who they were but they had the run of the palace. How do I know that you're not connected to them? I don't know many people in the palace, I can't trust people I don't know."

"You wrong me, Mistress," the speaker replied. "I have given an oath to the King to protect him and those in his palace, but in the darkness I grant you cannot know who faces you." The man turned and snapped out orders to those surrounding him. Some turned and faced away, others ran back to the open doors and vanished within the building. The man faced Garia again.

"Who will you trust, Mistress? Let us fetch a familiar face for you. How did you enter the garden, Mistress?"

There was only one face that immediately sprang to mind and she said his name without any thought whatsoever. "Prince Keren." She added, "The King and Queen. My maid Jenet. I was in the Lilac Chamber, up there."

The man spun on his heel and looked up at the darkened open window. Other windows were open now, light from within silhouetting the roused and curious occupants.

"You jumped from up there, Mistress? I am impressed by your courage."

He snapped out some more orders and two men left the group and headed for the doorways. In the flickering light she could see the glint of naked steel but she still didn't feel safe at all. Supposing all this was subterfuge, a tableau designed to lull the suspicions of those onlookers in the windows above?

Shortly another door was flung open and several figures pushed their way through the group surrounding Garia. As soon as one of them approached closely enough to be identifiable in the inadequate lamplight she recognized Keren and launched herself at him, all thoughts of propriety or protocol forgotten.

"Garia? What on Anmar is going on? How did you get into the garden?"

Keren clasped her shivering body into his arms. He was still dressed in his nightshirt but had pulled on sandals and wrapped himself in a cloak. Although the adrenaline still thundered through her veins the high had abruptly passed with the Prince's appearance and she started to feel both cold and tired. She recognized the onset of shock but this was now tempered by the realization that she had just wrapped herself around the heir to the throne. She wasn't about to let go just yet, however.

"Men," she gasped. "Broke into my room. Tried to get the key, then to pick the lock. Then they broke the door open by force. I climbed out the window, fell onto the ground. One of them climbed out the window after me."

"Maker! You're cold and clammy." He turned his head to the gathering group. "A cloak, please. Mistress Garia is cold."

One of the surrounding figures whipped off a short cloak and handed it to Keren, who took it and insisted that Garia wrapped herself in it before putting his arms around her again, his cloak enfolding both of them. Keren addressed the group of men.

"Has anyone been sent to check the Lilac Chamber? Have the palace grounds been sealed?"

"Aye, Highness, to both questions. We were unsure what the alarm was about, so we took all the actions we could. If I can ask a question of the Mistress, Highness?"

"If she feels capable of answering."

Garia, now wrapped warmly but still in the prince's arms, nodded in such a way that he felt her head movements.

"Ask, Captain."

"How many were there, Mistress? Did you see what he or they looked like?"

"At least two," she replied. "I didn't see them, it was too dark, but I think they both wore dark clothes. One of them climbed out onto the roof, I could only see his pale face in the starlight."

"You heard that, Captain?"

"Aye, Highness."

"Let's get the mistress inside, she's getting cold."

Another voice intruded, one that no-one could mistake. Men moved respectfully aside for a new arrival.

"What's going on here?"

"Father, Mistress Garia has had intruders in her chamber. She climbed out of the window to escape them."

"Truly? Impressive." King Robanar moved into the light from a nearby lantern, his face still stiff with sleep but his eyes alert. "Captain?"

"Sire. We have roused the guard. The grounds have been sealed and a search started."

A man entered the garden at a run, stopped before the captain and banged his breast with a fist.

"Sir! The door to the Lilac Chamber is open, the door itself is mostly undamaged but the frame is completely splintered. It looks as if a heavy bar was used to force the lock."

"Has the room been searched?" the captain asked.

"Aye, sir, no sign of anyone. No other sign of disturbance, the window is of course open."

"Jenet!" Garia said. "I pulled the rope several times, no-one came. What about my maid?"

"Where would she be?" asked Keren. "In the servant's room at the end of the corridor?"

"I assume so. I was hoping that if someone came it would put off the intruders, but nothing happened when I pulled the rope."

"Check the servants' room," the captain ordered the man.

"Sir!" the man responded before running back into the building.

Robanar spoke. "Let's get Mistress Garia inside and safe. We'll go to my parlor. Captain, come with us, lead the way with your men. I want every door we pass checked, every intersection cleared beforehand, understand?"

"Sire!"

Keren began to lead the way towards a doorway and the group of men, apparently members of the Palace Guard, surrounded Robanar, Keren and Garia with drawn swords. Keren kept his arm firmly around Garia as they walked along the cloister and into the building. Progress was slow as every door had either to be confirmed locked or the room beyond checked and cleared. After a short while Keren leaned down and whispered in Garia's ear.

"You smell funny," he said.

Funny? What does he mean by that? Is it the smell of fear? I hope not. What a lame business! Running away like that. Guess this body knows what's the best course of action better than I do. What can a half-pint girl do against two full-grown men? What did I do anyway? Climbed out a window, slid off a roof, fell into a... of course.

"I fell into a bed of herbs," she replied. "Broke my fall. It must be that you can smell."

"It's unusual," he replied. "Makes you smell nice, though."

Eventually they all arrived at the parlor, a welcoming glow from lanterns and candles after the dimly-lit corridors with Queen Terys waiting for them in a state of agitation.

"Maker! Whatever has happened to you, dear, you look as though you've been dragged in the dirt! Come and sit down over here, Keren, you as well. I've sent Kenila off to heat up some water for pel. Robanar, how did the girl end up in this state?"

"Someone tried to get into her chamber, my dear. Mistress Garia climbed out of the window and jumped into the herb garden to get away from them, it seems."

"Goodness!" Terys turned to a waiting maid. "Varna, run and find a robe for the mistress, if you please. We must try and get her warmed up, I can see her shivering from here! She has bare feet! Bring some warm slippers as well." She looked closely at Garia's nightdress. "Why look, there's blood on your nightdress."

Garia looked and saw smudges of blood at about knee level.

"I slid down the roof..."

"Varna, once you've brought those things go off and rouse a healer, will you? We must get the mistress looked at."

Meanwhile, Keren and Robanar were looking significantly at one another. Keren finally spoke.

"Yod."

"We have no proof," Robanar objected. "And whether true or not, there's very little we can do about it."

Keren shrugged. "No, but we can be reasonably sure it was them. They turned up unexpectedly yesterday, they went out of their way to interest themselves in Garia, didn't they?"

A man appeared at the open doorway of the parlor and the captain went to receive his report. Garia finally noticed that all the men were dressed similarly but not so much that she would have identified a uniform at first glance. All the men had been clothed much as Tanon's men had, a tunic and jerkin over tights, but the colors of the palace men were all very similar, a sort of brown-rust shade. Each wore a pale blue sash around his waist, presumably identifying him as one of the guards. The captain also had a sash that went over the left shoulder and was tied to his belt at the right hip. He turned to the King.

"Sire, my man has found the servants apparently asleep, but none of them can be wakened. They may have been drugged or poisoned."

There was a gasp from Terys. Robanar gave a start and turned to Garia.

"Mistress, it seems that I underestimated your worth and others did not. I must apologize if I have by negligence placed you in danger."

Garia shook her head, overwhelmed by the pace of events. "What worth? I'm just a lost stranger from somewhere else entirely. What possible interest could anyone have in me?"

"You undervalue yourself, Mistress," Keren said. "I think what they are after is what's in your head. At the moment, you might be the most important person on Anmar."

Robanar turned to the captain. "Rouse healers, send them to the servants' room and see if there is anything that can be done for them." He addressed the guardsman. "Did you notice whether all servants were present who were supposed to be? No empty beds, for example?"

"No, Sire, I did not," the man replied. "There were empty beds, but as I have no knowledge of who was supposed to be sleeping there I couldn't say if the right number of people were there."

Robanar grunted. "Very well, we'll find out soon enough."

Garia was furiously thinking. Am I really that important? Well, yes, I suppose I have to admit that I might be. I have three hundred years of technology I could give them, haven't I? Even if I can't give them explicit instructions on how to build certain things the mere fact that I can describe such machines may offer sufficient clues to allow some clever person to construct them. Her blood ran cold. And now everybody is fighting over me. Mess? I didn't know the meaning of the word. A stray thought came. I bet Morlan would be pointing his finger and saying 'I told you so'. Or perhaps...

"Master Morlan," she said into the momentary silence.

"I expect he's still asleep, Mistress," the captain answered her. "He doesn't normally waken when the alarm bells ring, or if he does he ignores them. Sometimes he takes a bit of shifting when there's a real problem. Why do you ask?"

Keren was looking at Robanar again.

"Send a squad to find Morlan," Robanar instructed the captain. "Get him up and bring him here, please. We have need of his wisdom."

"As you command, Sire."

Another maid came into the room bearing a tray with several cups and what looked suspiciously like a teapot.

"Ah, good, the pel," Terys said. "Kenila, would you pour, please. The first one goes to Mistress Garia here, she's had an awful fright tonight."

Garia wrapped her shaking hands around the warm cup, letting the heat from the liquid seep into her icy fingers. The night wasn't cold, she knew, it was the shock reaction to her body. She took a sip, letting the hot drink trickle slowly down her throat. The maid Kenila handed the next cup to Keren, sitting close beside her on the sofa. Somehow she just knew that Keren wasn't going to move from her side until he was forced to, and for some strange reason she preferred it that way.

The other maid came back with a robe and slippers, helping Garia to slip the robe on and wrap it, then tut-tutting at the filthy state of her feet as she helped her put the slippers on. Garia sat down again, accepting her cup from Keren.

"Do you feel able to tell us the story, Mistress?" Robanar asked.

"Of course, Sire."

Garia described the whole incident from the start as much as she was able to given the circumstances. The King, Keren and the captain of the guard all asked questions at various points to clarify matters. She finished with Keren's arrival, explaining to the captain for his benefit her thought processes and apologizing to him for not trusting him in the herb garden.

"Mistress," he replied, "now that you have explained this to me I cannot say that you ought to have done any differently. In the darkness, surrounded by a group of armed men you could not recognize, your reaction is understandable. I am impressed by your actions, Mistress. I cannot think of another woman who might have done what you did this night."

"Indeed," Robanar rumbled, "Mistress Garia is an exceptional person, Captain Merek. While I can't reveal very much more, I can let you know that she is in possession of important information which many of the countries surrounding Palarand would risk much to obtain. As happened this night. Her well-being and safety is important to Palarand, you must treat her as you might treat myself, is that clear?"

"Aye, Sire!" The captain banged his breast with a fist.

"Sire." Two men had appeared in the doorway, one of them a guardsman and the other a confused-looking older man in a nightshirt. The guardsman addressed his captain.

"Sir, the chambers of Master Morlan are empty, with the exception of his manservant Jareven here. I thought it best to bring him so that you could question him yourself."

The King stood and with cup in hand walked to the door, taking over the questioning.

"Jareven, we desired to speak to Morlan, urgently. You heard the alarm bells?"

"Sire," the man stammered. "I did. Master Morlan went out after the State reception, he asked me to order a carriage to take him to Master Gerdas's residence. He did not say as much, but since Master Gerdas is the Royal Astronomer I reasoned that my master would not return until this coming morning."

"Did he give any particular reason for his visit, do you know?"

"No, Sire, he did not. It is not unusual, as you know, for my master to visit others of the Society of Questors in the evenings, and he has stayed overnight with Master Gerdas a number of times in the past. Sire, if I may ask, what has happened?"

"There have been intruders in the palace," Robanar said shortly. "They attempted to break into a guest's chamber."

Jareven looked shocked. "In the palace, Sire?"

"Aye," Robanar replied. "We believe there are at least two of them still at large. I suggest that you return to your rooms with an escort and that you lock yourself in until morning."

The manservant looked visibly shaken. "Aye, Sire."

"Sire," Garia put in, "before he goes, can I ask him, was Master Morlan carrying anything when he went out this evening?"

Jareven looked blankly at her. "No, Mistress, I did not see him take any bag or package with him, if that's what you mean. Of course he may have had documents or small items tucked away within his clothing."

Garia bowed her head in acknowledgment. "Thank you."

The manservant departed and Garia took another sip from her cup of pel.

Keren asked her quietly, "What are you thinking? What might Morlan have taken with him?"

"I'm not sure," she replied, "I don't really know the man or anything about this Society of Questors, after all. It occurred to me that if he had gone to this Astronomer, what was his name?"

"Gerdas."

"If he had been going there, he might have taken a telescope. I'm assuming that he has one. After this morning I felt sure that he might want to check the truth of what I told him, and a telescope would be one way of doing that."

The captain broke in. "A telescope, Mistress? Master Morlan spoke to you of such matters?"

Garia remembered belatedly that telescopes were supposed to be a secret. Robanar rescued her.

"He did not, Captain, I fancy rather it was the other way around. I did tell you that Mistress Garia held important information. He did not tell her anything she did not already know."

Merek's face switched from Robanar to Garia at this revelation and then back again, as though he could hardly believe what he was hearing. After all, wasn't Master Morlan the Royal Questor? So if Mistress Garia knew more than Master Morlan, what did that make her? His face paled and he took a step backwards into the doorway.

"I'll ask no more questions, Sire," he said, stiffening to attention.

"Your service to Palarand has been faultless, Captain," Robanar said. "I would be more concerned if you did not question when you thought it necessary."

A woman arrived and pushed her way past the captain. She was dressed in the inevitable nightdress but had a fluffy robe over it. In one hand she carried a wicker basket full of bandages and small bottles.

"Sire, I understand there is need of a healer here."

"Aye, Margra, come in. See to the mistress there beside Keren. She has had an adventure tonight and her legs may need attention."

She approached Garia and knelt in front of her.

"With your permission, Mistress?"

She lifted Garia's nightdress by the hem and pulled it up exposing her knees.

"Ah, she has just scraped the skin, Sire," she reported. "Nothing worse than that. I shall clean them, put some ointment on them and bandage them to protect them. She is young, the skin should heal within a week or so."

One of the maids produced a bowl of hot water and the healer used a dampened cloth to clean the dirt from Garia's grazes. An ointment was spread on her knees and then her legs were gently wrapped with bandages, the healer explaining that this was more to stop the ointment getting everywhere than for any other reason. Margra curtseyed to the King and Queen and left.

Garia drained her cup and handed it back to the maid. She estimated that it might be around three or four in the morning by now, Earth reckoning, and she noticed that her body was slowly shutting itself back down into sleep. She absent-mindedly snuggled up to Keren, putting her head on his shoulder, a movement that did not go un-noticed by Terys.

"She needs to be in her bed, like the rest of us," she said to Robanar. "Where shall she go? The door of her own chamber is broken, she cannot sleep there."

"I wouldn't consider it safe in any case, dear. Can we use one of the girls' rooms, do you think? I'd rather have her close to hand until we can make sure we know just what's going on."

"An excellent idea. It will have to be Elizet's old suite, Malann's still has carpenters working."

"Mistress Garia," Robanar asked her, "would you like to come? We have a bed for you nearby."

"Hmm?" Garia was already half asleep, the adrenaline which had kept her going finally drained away. "Oh, yes. Sire." She tried to raise her head.

"Keren, can you carry her that far?"

"To Elizet's room?" Keren thought briefly. "Aye, Father, it is not so far and she is light enough."

"You two," Robanar pointed to the maids, "run along to Elizet's suite and prepare the bed. Once we have Mistress Garia settled you can go and help the Queen into hers. I'll be a while yet, we still have intruders to catch."

Keren stood and lifted Garia into his arms. At first her light weight was completely lax but then she worked out where she was and put her arms around his neck. Keren walked out of the parlor in the wake of the maids, Queen Terys following closely afterwards. It was a short journey that involved several corridors and a staircase.

Garia felt a strange warm feeling wash over her sleeping body, unlike anything she had ever felt before or since her transfer to this strange world. It was a feeling of comfort, safety, security, a state of being that Gary could not have recognized back in Kansas. Her grip on Keren tightened.

"Comfortable?"

"Yes, Your Highness," she murmured sleepily. "I hope you don't think I'm taking advantage of you."

"I thought it would be the other way round," he replied.

By the time they arrived at the bedroom the two maids had cleared the bed and were busy pulling dust covers from the other furnishings in the room. Keren laid Garia gently on the bed and Terys pulled the light cover up over her. In seconds she was asleep.

~o~O~o~

Like most dreams this one made no sense at all. She couldn't work out where she was. It seemed as if she was in an immense darkened hall, then perhaps it wasn't a hall at all but a huge void of some strange sort. There were others there, vaguely visible, immense multi-dimensional beings, doing inscrutable things. It occurred to her that she might also be one of these huge beings but she was merely an observer of the conversation that was taking place between two of these... things.

First Speaker: There is an anomaly.

Second Speaker: Yes.

First: A serious deviation from the projected event sequence. Some calculation has not been made correctly.

Second: What remedial action must be taken to restore balance?

First: None.

Second: ?

First: To clarify, not yet. The projections based upon the current circumstances predict an outcome significantly better than the original proposal. So much better that we wonder if a basic factor has been overlooked.

Second: We observe, then, and report.

First: Yes.

Second: Meanwhile?

First: Meanwhile, a search will be made for the source of the anomaly. If some basic factor has eluded us, we must identify and analyze it.

Second: Do we have time?

First: Yes. Centuries.

Garia slept.