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It was over as soon as it had begun. He felt himself receding, falling back, his perception shrinking. Down past suns and worlds unknown, through vortices of energy and disks of dark matter; back, back toward a single dead world circling a long forgotten sun.

He opened his eyes. Actual purple momentarily replaced visual purple, and then both were gone in a double blink. An echo of symphonies unimagined echoed briefly in his ears, already fading to pianissimo. The voice that was replacing it and growing rapidly stronger was familiar.

“Flinx, Flinx!” Clarity was atop the dais and at his side as soon as he straightened and slipped out from beneath the inner dome. He would have reached for her except that he felt a weight falling from his head. Extending his arms, he caught Pip just as she tumbled. The minidrag was completely spent, completely limp, and if possible even more exhausted than her master.

With him holding the flying snake it was difficult for Clarity to kiss him, but she did her best. Tse-Mallory was next at his side, helping support him. Behind them Flinx saw the two thranx looking on and gesturing concern. Above and in the distance, colors were fading as they retreated like pale syrup down the multitude of cylinders that lined the towering interior walls of the Krang.

Tse-Mallory didn't waste time. “Anything? How did it go? Familiar, new, shocking, reassuring—say something. Talk to me, Flinx.”

Heedless of both the sociologist's physical size and intellectual stature, Clarity interposed herself between him and his subject. “Leave him alone—for a while, anyway. Can't you see that he's completely drained?” Without waiting for Tse-Mallory's response, she turned back to Flinx. “Are you all right? Can I get you something from the skimmer?”

He took a step and nearly fell. Between Clarity and Tse-Mallory, he did not. “Water. Water would be—good.”

Whirling, she raced down the dais to where they had stacked the supplies they had brought from the skimmer. Following more slowly, Flinx and Tse-Mallory were joined by Sylzenzuzex and her Eighth.

“What was it like, Flinx?” With both left hands Syl gestured back at the now dormant platform. “What happened there, under all that noise and light and color?”

“Contact occurred,” he told her weakly, “and it was tiring.”

“I can see that. You were a brave boy, once,” Truzenzuzex told him. “Now that bravery is backed by maturity.”

A weary Flinx smiled down at his old mentor. “Don't count on it. How many minutes was I under?”

“Minutes?” The philosoph looked to his human companion. “Do I misinterpret the chrono?”

“You do not,” Tse-Mallory assured him. He met Flinx's quizzical gaze. “You were lying in state for just under four hours, my young friend.”

Pondering the disparity between perception and reality, Flinx summed up with an observation that was wholly typical. “That would explain why I'm starving as well as thirsty.”

As soon as they were clear of the dais, his companions helped him take a seat on one of the impervious benches that had once served as resting places for Tar-Aiym. Despite his exhaustion he refused to lie down, preferring to remain upright as he drank, ate, and slowly regained his strength. A little water and some appropriate nutrients were enough to revive Pip.

“You said that contact occurred.” Sylzenzuzex was so close that in his weakened state her distinctive perfume threatened to overpower him. “What kind of contact? With the Krang?”

“No. First, there was interchange between myself and the Krang.” He looked up over the water bottle he was holding at the two attentive scientists. “I explained our need. Though doubtful as to its potential, the machine complied with my request. It extended itself. Contact was made with the wandering relic.”

Truzenzuzex and Tse-Mallory exchanged elated murmurs. “You learned its location?” Flinx nodded. The philosoph turned to his human colleague. “We must make preparations to leave here and set out on the relevant vector as quickly as possible.”

Clarity immediately