The bright lights of Rio wrapped around Guanabara Bay like a jewelled stole, evidence of the night life that had given the place the nickname A Cidade Maravilhosa - The Marvelous City.

Standing high above the home of Carnival and the Copacabana, perched atop Corcovado mountain as a guardian spirit of this great city, stood Cristo Redentor: the majestic statue of Christ the Redeemer, its eyes gazing out from over a hundred feet above the mountain top and arms held wide, as though granting an eternal blessing to the city that stretched out below.

Tonight, invisible against the night sky, someone used this symbol of faith as her own perch. In a swirl of blackness and stars, Timeslip appeared on Cristo's broad shoulder, and immediately looked around for the unique nova that she had come to call that most rare of terms: "friend".

At the base of the giant statue of Jesus, Nova "Flicker" Madigan and Meghan "Girl Made of Titanium" Cutter sat atop the stone wall which surrounded the statue's courtyard. Even if there had been passers-by, and there were none due to the late hour, they would not have had reason to comment on the unusual appearance of the couple. While Meghan was obviously made entirely of blue-grey titanium metal and Nova had never learned how to stop flickering in and out of total invisibility, they were both invisible at this moment.

Hand-in-hand they waited, the physical contact necessary for Meghan to share Flicker's invisibility. Nova felt something small, hard, and plastic being pressed into her hand. After a moment, she recognized the shape as Meghan's mobile phone.

"Here," Meghan said, "I don't think I'll need this where I'm going, and it's probably better if I'm untrackable, for her sake. Besides, I don't think your ability to teleport extends to different planes of reality."

Nova was taken aback. Since she'd known Meghan, this phone had been their lifeline. No matter what the situation, Meghan had only needed to speed-dial Nova for a quick teleporting extraction from any situation at any time. It was also, along with Meghan's laptop, one of her only two material possessions. After a pause, she nodded.

"Okay," Nova replied, "Remember, you are on your own this time. You'll be in a place where nobody can find you, so if anything happens, you'll be--" she hesitated. "You'll be gone forever."

Meghan tried not to shake with nervousness. "Timeslip's my friend," she replied, "I trust her. I'm sure I'll be fine. Don't worry, I'll come back to you." Meghan smiled reassuringly, then realized this was futile while invisible. Meghan squeezed Nova's hand firmly.

"I know it's not easy for you now that Neil and I are engaged," Nova said, finally broaching the topic of the elephant in the room, "But no matter what, you have a place in our lives, and in my heart, okay? I still love you, no matter what, and that will not--and has not--changed, okay?"

Meghan choked back a tear. "Okay Nova," she said, her voice cracking, "I still love you too. I miss you sometimes." She leaned against Nova and pressed her cheek into Nova's shoulder.

Nova felt the single tear's dampness through her blouse, and ignored the fact that the metallic tear had already created a permanent stain. She held Meghan close and rocked her gently in her arms.

"I miss you too. I know it's important for you to meet lots of novas and play in the XWF and fly across the sea and even visit other realities, but there's still a part of me that wants you around the house, crashed out on the sofa surfing the opnet or playing video games," Nova replied. "It's not the same without you. I think Neil misses having you around too."

Nova suddenly sat up straighter, a familiar tingle in her node bringing her to alertness.

"She's here," Nova replied, craning her head upward, "There, on the statue's shoulder."

Nova squeezed Meghan and wiped her tear away, and then focussed on a new loction. A moment later, they were still seated, but now were atop the statue, sitting on Jesus' shoulder, next to where Timeslip clung.

"Hello Timeslip," Nova spoke first, as she allowed herself and Meghan to become visible again.

Meghan jumped to her feet, heedless of the risk of falling, and embraced Timeslip in a warm hug.

"I didn't think I'd see you again!" Meghan said excitedly, great relief evident in her voice.

Timeslip had been waiting for the tell-tale feel of another node. When two nodes popped into being, alarm bells went off in her head.

It's a trap.

Only two things stayed her hand in the short span of time between sensing those nodes and the appearance of the novas who bore them: that Meghan was a friend who she did not want to risk, and the memory of the gut-wrenching sickness that had washed over her in the wake of killing Excavator.

It was with considerable relief that Timeslip saw Meghan appear from nothingness in front of her, but the wariness was a long way from gone; even through the unexpected hug by the titanium nova, her eyes never left Meghan's flickering companion.

Finally, she found her voice, disturbing though it may have been. "It's good to see you too, Meghan," she echoed quietly, "and I see you brought a friend. Hello, Flicker. I didn't know that you were coming."

"This is as far as I'm going," Nova replied matter-of-factly. "I'm just here to see Meghan off."

After a pause she continued with a smile: "I don't care what the UPies say. I trust you and I trust Meghan's choice of friends. If I didn't, neither of us would be here. I'm no Terat, but you have my personal sympathy and support. If you ever need anything from me, just ask."

Meghan looked to Timeslip and then to Nova, hoping to defuse any hard feelings that might suddenly emerge.

"So, is this the part where we are whisked away to some other plane of reality or alternate timeline? The longer we hang around here, the longer we're, uh, well the longer we're hanging around here."

Meghan was an amateur when it came to cloak-and-dagger tactics, but she'd guessed that moving quickly was better than standing around atop a gigantic statue of Jesus all night.

"I'll be back, don't worry," Meghan told Nova, putting on her bravest face. She still had no idea where or when Timeslip was hiding herself these days. She was certain that she'd be entirely dependent on Timeslip to get back home.

Meghan hugged Nova one more time, then turned to Timeslip. "Shall we?" she asked, proffering her slender hand.

Timeslip smiled an invisible smile. "This would indeed be that part. Don't worry; I'll bring her back in one piece, Flicker. And thank you."

Taking the soft yet metallic hand, the woman who wore the cosmos extended that deep space to surround her friend, and as the field collapsed to a dot, the two were simply gone.

In a world next door, blackness fell away from the pair, pulled back within Timeslip. A city still streched out below, and they still stood beside the head of a massive statue... and there, all similarity ceased.

The first thing noticed was the brightness, a light that spoke of a bright morning sun. It was almost blinding in it's brilliance. Yet, looking away from it, the starry sky still stretched out across the heavens. Only in turning could they see that the rich golden rays were a reflection from an enormous disk, easily thirty feet across and with sculpted rays stretching another dozen or so feet from its edge, mounted behind the head of the statue... a statue that was no longer Cristo Redentor. The face - still staring off out over the city and across the Atlantic - was a noble and proud face, unbearded, with features that bespoke not the son of a Hebrew carpenter, but the scion of a native king. The scultped robes were not simple, plain affairs, but were rich with embroidery; the outstretched arms were adorned with broad bracelets, and a massive beaded necklace reached down to the figure's chest. And all of it - every inch, from the sun disk to the bare toes - was covered in shining gold.

The city below was full of light, just as it had been moments before, but oh, what those lights showed.... Majestic structures of stone - palaces, pyramids, temples, columns - were illuminated by scores of up-cast lights, not as worn relics of a culture lost to time, but as very real monuments to a vibrant and living people. Between these, so different and yet somehow in keeping with the style, steel-and-glass skyscrapers stood, lit from within as though it were still Rio. The tiny, tangled lights of traffic wove between it all, the noise reaching sensitive ears of the two visitors in a way that was all the more alien for being so familiar.

After a moment of silence, Timeslip finally said, "Welcome to Coricanchac, Meghan, one of the most beautiful cities of Tawantin Suyu, which you probably know better as the Inca Empire." With a graceful guesture toward the head of the massive statue - illuminated by ground lights as back home, but with the addition of a series of intense beams focused from the back of the head on the huge golden disk - the cosmic nova added, "And this? The statue is of Inti: the Sun God."

A month earlier, Meghan had been talking to Regina Newcastle about cities, and how 90% of the features in them were the same everywhere, but it was the other 10% that made them distinctive.

Here in Coricanchac, it was the other 10% that knocked Meghan right on her titanium keister, figuratively speaking. Without looking away from the vista, Meghan spoke to Timeslip, doing her best to feign a casual attitude toward the astonishing.

"Wow," she said, "When you jump to another reality, you really don't mess around, do you? So, is this our destination, or is this a waypoint in a longer journey that crosses several worlds?"

The smile might not have been visible, but it could be heard in the chuckle that followed Meghan's question, even with the echoing distortion.

"No, this is pretty much where I was planning to go. I've been here before a number of times, and it's one of a small number of timestreams I've come to think of as homes away from home. This one in particular is nice, because of the company. You see," she said in an faux conspiratorial tone, "this world has novas, too. In fact, I'm hoping that we run across one in particular while we're here in Coricanchac; I'd like to introduce you to him." There was the feel of an almost impish grin with mention of this other nova, but then Timeslip changed the topic.

"So, would you like to fly as we talk? It would give you an opportunity to look around a bit; it really is a lovely city."

"Well, okay, sure," Meghan said cheerfully. "I'd love to meet your friend. Since this is your turf, though, you're going to have to lead the way. I have no idea whatsoever where we're going, you know."

Meghan's gaze went inward as she began to focus the energy she needed to relax the internal bonds which held her form, then she paused and looked at Timeslip again.

"Wait a moment, before I do this," she asked, "what is this world's attitude toward novas? Are we going to be safe flying around and stuff?"

"We're good. Most of the exposure that the baselines here have had to novas is of a positive sort; the one I'm hoping we'll meet - Pachacamac - is a regional hero of sorts. He's very much in the sun-god role; in fact, his name is taken from their mythology, as the son of this handsome gentleman we're standing on here. That's one of the things I like about this place - I can walk the streets and have the locals look at me with awe instead of hatred; I think they've decided that I'm a natural counterpart to Pachacamac."

"Sun and stars," Meghan mused, amusedly. "That's pretty awesome. Okay, let's go meet your friend."

Meghan had gotten over the initial shock of her new locale, and had begun to appreciate the uniqueness of the culture that could create a city such as the one that spread before her.

"If we're going to be showy about it, let me try this:" she said, as she allowed her body to become malleable again. Her mind filled with an ancient image from a history textbook that she'd seen once, one that reminded her of a feathery and winged flying serpent.

A moment later, Meghan floated before Timeslip at a near hover, trying out her long and flowing feathered wings with graceful sweeps.

"I've never tried this before," she explained, her voice sounding incongrous coming from the mouth of such a creature. "It's a totally new way of flying compared to what I've done before, but I think I'm getting the hang of it."

Watching the Girl Made of Titanium shift into the silvery form of a winged serpent, so prevalent in the legends of Incas and Mayans and Aztecs alike, was like watching her take her own further step across the cosmic threads into this world. "You're adaptability never ceases to amaze me, Meghan," Timeslip said as she deftly played with temporal currents to lift her gracefully into the air beside the transformed nova. "I think that among locals here, you would be called Chalchiuhtlicue, the serpent mother goddess. Somehow, I think you'll meet with Pachacamac's approval."

With that odd sideways smile that served as the only visible clue to her expression, Timeslip led Meghan out away from the statue and over the city proper.

Even at this late hour, Coricanchac was very much alive. Swooping in and out between skyscrapers and stone temples hundreds of feet above the swarming traffic, the two strangers in this strange land could see entertainment districts still packed with colorful crowds; if anything, the festivities were more vibrant than those back in the Rio that Meghan called home. As one such throng of revellers neared, it seemed almost as though the two were above a Chinatown, as a long parade dragon undulated down a broad avenue amid cheering crowds. Only after a moment did it become apparent that this was no dragon; it was, in fact, Meghan writ large and burst into full color - the hundred-foot long creation was Chalchiuhtlicue, and as the lights caught just right, the shimmering colors reflected from the underside of the titanium nova, the intricate scales she had created coming to iridescent life.

"Oh, hey, cool!" Meghan exclaimed, as she spotted the mockup of Chalchiuhtlicue which undulated in the festival lights far below. The festival's Chalchiuhtlicue was considerably larger than Meghan, she noticed, by a factor of at least ten times. Meghan's form was practically cute in comparison, as she'd only had enough mass in her body to form a winged serpent six feet long with a twelve-foot wingspan.

"I'll be right back," Meghan said suddenly, "I want a closer look at what they're doing."

Meghan folded her wings behind her back and allowed herself to fall from the sky. As the pavement rapidly rushed up to meet her, she extended her slender wings and pulled out of the dive, converting vertical velocity into a swift flat glide no higher than the streetlights. Meghan overtook the festival dragon from behind and quickly rocketed past it, looking to the left and the right at the assembled partying throng. A delighted roar followed in her wake, issuing from the voices of a thousand onlookers.

After Meghan had cleared the head of the procession, she wheeled in the air, turning and climbing gracefully in between the tall buildings which defined the canyon-like cityscape. Hanging at a near hover a few tens of feet in the air on the gentle sweeps of her elegant wings, Meghan looked back to the crowd. She was delighted by the hundreds of sparkling flashes from cameras and camera-phones which strobed at her.

Wish I spoke Incan, she thought, perplexed. Unable to say anything that would be understood, Meghan settled for another flying pass over the crowd, this time weaving back and forth, playfully dipping and swooping above the heads of the revelers.

"Okay, that was fun," she softly said to herself. Meghan looked upward, trying to find Timeslip.

Oh good one, stupid, she chided herself. Totally lose track of your ride home, why don't you?

Meghan slowly climbed away from the crowd, scanning the starry sky for her starry friend.

For a moment, all of the worries - Utopian and global response to the incident with Excavator, Procyon's "Third Way", the increasing tension between the factions of the movement, the gnawing pain of her own conscience for the nova blood on her hands - were forgotten, for the first time since before her Chrysalis. In their place, there was only a quiet joy at watching this remarkable young woman at play, this gifted nova literally soaring above the crowd without a care in the world. Even as the moment passed, as the weight of problems a world away settled back onto Timeslip's shoulders, the thought ran through her mind: This is what it should mean to be of the One Race: the freedom to enjoy life, on our own terms.

As Meghan ended her aerial dance and climbed with an upward gaze, Timeslip allowed herself a silent chuckle, and took action to remedy the situation. A constellation took sudden and unnatural movement against the firmament, as the starscape nova across the sky and then arched downward toward her friend. In short order, the heavens taken flesh came along side the winged serpent, and said, "I'm glad to see you enjoying yourself, Meghan; that's part of why I picked this world for tonight."

Still excited at her first public appearance in another plane of existence, Meghan flapped alongside Timeslip happily.

"Oh, definitely," she replied, "That was fantastic. I can't get enough of that.

Allowing Timeslip to lead the way, Meghan turned her thoughts inward.

What would it be like living here? she wondered, In a place where novas and baselines live in relative peace?

Creating a temporal updraft, Timeslip swept skyward, the lights from the surrounding buildings falling away until the pair peaked even the tallest structures. A crescent moon shone bright above, providing a silvery counterpoint to the golden disk of Inti that glowed in the west.

With Meghan's remarkable form in tow, she soared out over the beach, and then the open water, finally turning about a quarter-mile out from shore to take in the city in all it's panoramic glory. "It really is a beautiful place, Meghan. You know my feelings on baselines, and our relationship to them... but I will say this: in this place, in this world, they truly have created a marvel."

Even as she spoke, the two felt a tell-tale resonance, a reverberation in their nodes that could be only one thing: the feel of another nova. With a renewed smile, Timeslip returned the quantum ping, and a glowing form arced in from the north. "He's here," she said to her metallic companion, and the undercurrent of joy was impossible to miss amid the whispery echoes of her voice.

Meghan looked around.

"Here where?" she asked, used to Flicker's invisible antics. The excitement that Timeslip radiated was unmistakable, as well as infectious, and Meghan found herself becoming excited as well. Between being with her friend Timeslip, being in a new world, and the prospect of meeting novas from a strange other plane of existence, she could scarcely believe her good fortune.

"I guess it's your marvel friend Pachacamac that's arrived?" she asked.

One similarity that Pachacamac shared with Procyon was definitely showmanship; the night sky blazed with a burst of light as a golden sun zeroed in on them. The words, “Haw! Imata ñinki!” proceeded the living conflagration which come to a smooth stop mere feet from them. As his forward movement stopped, so did his flaming aura, which settled into a warm glow as Pachacamac extended both of his hands to Timeslip in greeting, which she clasped eagerly.

“How are you, friend?” he asked in accented English. Beautiful blue eyes settled on Girl Made of Titanium in the next heartbeat and she could feel the force of his gaze. It was very like what she experienced every time she was in Procyon’s presence. “And I see you have a new friend.” His smile was like watching the sun break through clouds, and she could feel the heat of his body as he extended his hands in greeting to her.

Night sky nodded to bright day as Timeslip replied to the beautiful man. “I’m well, and it’s good to see you again. Pachacamac, please allow me to introduce my friend Meghan, also known as the Girl Made of Titanium. Meghan, this is my friend Pachacamac.”

"Haw imata ñinki, indeed," Meghan said hovering in midair on graceful sweeps of her feathery wings. "Good to meet you, Pachacamac. Great reality you've got here. Everyone seems very friendly."

Procyon is so awesome that he's everywhere, Meghan thought.

With the aura around him muting still more as he hung before them, the visitors could see that he bore little resemblance physically to Procyon. His features were darker and heavier, though still all swept with a luster of gold; his inhumanly blue eyes appeared to be quantum backlash, because they did not belong in that native face. Still, the similar quantum expression was uncanny.

“Can I offer you hospitality in my temple? My mamaconas would be honored to serve both the Star Woman and our new friend,” he said, his deep tone formal. That formal was gone as he winked at Meghan and said, “They will find something to call you, too. I know you have a name, but they will give you something that they may call you. They dislike to speak our names unless they are addressing us directly or they are praying to us.” Having baselines praying to him seemed to be completely normal to him, even expected.

“Meghan,” Timeslip said, “it’s up to you. That said, it is a rather nice temple, as temples go.” A ghost of a chuckle finished her statement on the matter.

"Oh, hey, by all means," Meghan said eagerly. She turned to Pachacamac. "I'd be honoured* to visit your temple and get a new name from the locals."

Why can't every reality be this cool? she wondered, as she stared into Pachacamac's eerie blue eyes.





(* She's Canadian.)

An eager grin creased the golden nova’s face, and he turned to lead them lower into the city. His fiery aura seemed to flare with each movement, until he was a blazing comet in motion, an unerring beacon of light. His path swung low over the city streets, low enough that the otherworldly visitors could see the upturned faces of his people peering up at him. Most waved; a few cheered, and fewer shouted up prayers in his passing. Pachacamac accepted all as his due.

As they flew, he pointed out landmarks to Meghan; Timeslip seemed to have received the tour already. Everything here is touched with the culture of the people living here; the high skyscrapers had sun disks and the heavy-jowled humans and animals decorating their glassy sides. And there were other novas; Meghan and Timeslip caught sight of two going about their business in the city.

Pachacamac’s path followed a hill, curving up into an older part of the city. The sounds of life and traffic were swallowed by the thick growth allowed to flourish here, a living testament to the life-giving qualities of the sun. Old step pyramids appeared in open areas, lit by fire torches; to the baseline eye, these appeared to be wild areas, but the novas could see the cunning design to the place. Appearances were indeed deceiving; these were beautifully tended gardens, allowed to flourish with only minimal influence.

Pachacamac slowed to allow them to appreciate the beauty of the sacred areas and the half-moon was high in the sky when glowing feet set down on the stone steps of one of the larger temples. Even before his clothing had fluttered to a stop, baseline women in white sleeveless robes were rushing down the steps, bringing food and wine, water and towels. Most of the woman were young, between Meghan and Timeslip’s age; all were pleasing to the eye. “These are my mamaconas, my…” he paused to clearly search for the English word. “My priestesses. Please, let them know what you need; they live to serve me, and by extension, my guests.”

Meghan flapped along cheerfully, taking in the sights on her guided tour of Coricanchac. When the occasion allowed, she swooped and danced, showing off for the baselines. A world where novas and baselines cooperated, she decided was a good thing indeed. The notion that people prayed to novas bothered her somewhat, so like all teenagers, she ignored that part of reality and pretended it didn't exist.

Arriving at Pachacamac's temple and seening his priestesses rush to serve him drove that reality back to the front of her thoughts. That his devoted followers (servants? slaves?, she thought) all looked to be about her own age startled her. Meghan flapped to a landing and tried to find a way to comfortably fold her feathery serpent's wings at her sides. After finding a reasonably relaxed pose, she politely replied to Pachacamac.

"Thank you for your hospitality," she said, smiling as much as her form would allow, "I appreciate it greatly. However, I require no sustenance save for the company of others." Meghan looked forward to loafing around with Pachacamac and Timeslip and kicking it alternate-universe-style.

Meghan glanced back to the priestesses and suddenly realized that her statement could be taken two different ways-- the other way, a far more sexual one. Well, they are kind of hot in those robes. . . she admitted to herself.

After following the priestesses into the temple proper, Timeslip relaxed on a piece of furniture reminiscent of a divan, accepting the tokens of comfort from Pachacamac’s followers. “Back home,” she said, “they would call this ‘India Syndrome’. Project Utopia would be raising their usual fit about it, and the United Nations would be pressuring the host nation to take action to shut it down... or to invite Team Tomorrow in to do the deed. Here?” She gave an expansive sweep of her arm that took in the whole of the temple. “It’s accepted.

“Mind you, it’s not like this everywhere over here. Go up to the States - yes, the U.S. exists here - and this sort of thing doesn’t float. But within Tawantin Suyu, it’s par for the course.”

“Not entirely so.” Pachacamac took a seat of his own, and a deep draught from the cup of wine in his hand. “Much of what you have seen in the city is not so much worship, as it is simple respect. The people of our great empire have... what is that word? Secularized, is that it?” He looked to Timeslip, who nodded. “They have secularized a great deal. Those who actually worship are in the minority. Still,” he added as he accepted a warmed towel with a beaming smile, “it is a comfortable minority.

“I would like to add, Meghan, that your semblance to Chalchiuhtlicue is striking. Are you revered as such in this other world from which you have traveled, or is that honor reserved for fortunate souls such as myself?”

To the extent that it was possible for a miniature metallic silver-grey feathery mythical winged serpent to look sheepish, Meghan did so.

"This is actually the first time I've taken this form," she explained, "I thought it would help me to fit in more here, and it's kind of fun, too." Meghan curled up on the not-quite-a-divan alongside Timeslip, within easy petting range should the impulse to do so occur.

"I don't think I'm quite so revered back home," she continued. "I mean, I have lots fans, and I get tons of interesting mail from them, and I have my own OpNet fan forum, but I don't think anyone deifies me in a religious way."

I wonder how you spell Chalchiuhtlicue, she thought. What is it with South American mythology and their ridiculously long names for everything?

Pachacamac nodded, his expression not at all surprised. The women left, and in the silence, his impressive voice was even more astounding. “Timeslip has told me of your world, and I have to say that I am both disturbed and saddened by the way that your world strips go- rather, novas, as they are called by your people, of their divinity,” he sighed, his mere tone causing his guests to feel the depth of his sorrow. “It must be a terrible burden to bear.”

A soft giggle came from a curtain, and Pachacamac smiled as the sun coming from behind a cloud. “My mamaconas wish to say something,” he said with mock seriousness, the way an adult would entertain a child’s attempt to talk at a dinner party. “Huallpa, come here,” he called, and a stunning woman stepped forward. Her skin was a beautiful golden color, and while her features were very typical for a native, her hair was a sun-bleached blonde. She appeared to be an amazing match for Pachacamac, right down to her white clothes; it was only when she shyly glanced at the visitors did they see that her eyes were not blue, but a pale brown. She moved to kneel at Pachacamac’s feet and spoke in a soft voice. Pachacamac replied in his native language, then turned to his guests.

“Huallpa wished to tell me that they have a name for you, Meghan, if it pleases you,” Pachacamac said, cupping his hand under the woman’s chin, touching her the way that one pets a beloved pet. “They wish to call you Silver Feathers, if they may.”

Meghan watched the exchange between Pachacamac and Huallpa with great interest. As the daughter of a diplomat, she'd learned to observe the rituals and customs of other cultures. In this case, she determined that the appropriate response would be directed to Pachacamac, not to Huallpa.

"They certainly may," Meghan responded politely to Pachacamac, "I'm flattered by the gesture, and it makes me feel very welcome here." Meghan returned to her usual teenaged-girl shape, but retained a spray of slender feathers in the place where her bobbed hairdo would normally be. Meghan leaned forward on her divan, projecting an attitude of interested attentiveness to the goings-on in the court of Pachacamac.

Well... that's certainly a new look for her. And not entirely a bad one, either.

Prior to the exchange, Timeslip had found herself petting the feathered-snake form that Meghan had taken. Now? A different sort of petting came to mind, but this was neither the time nor place... or at least, not the time.

With effort, she forced a return to conversation. "The feathers are a good look for you, Meghan, and are a fitting return on the name. Nicely done."

Pachacamac beamed proudly at his priestess and translated Meghan's words for her. The woman blushed modestly and looked pleased. She replied softly to Pachacamac and his smile deepened, if possible.

"She said that all three of my high priestesses came to the name, working together," he said. "I don't think that completely true, but they like to show me a unified front, which is very touching of them. Allow me to introduce them to you." That golden voice sang out two more names, and two more women came forth.

The first was small-featured and delicate, barely coming up to Meghan's shoulder. She had classic Inca features and was all the more beautiful for her purity. Thick black hair was bound in an meticulous bun, with every strand in perfect place; her white robes were spotless. "This is Pariapichiu*," Pachacamac said, nodding at her. She came and knelt next to Huallpa** with easy grace.

"And this is Ozcollo***," Pachacamac said as he introduced the last woman. Where Pariapichiu was small, Ozcollo was tall; where Huallpa was golden, Ozcollo was dark. She had strong, powerful limbs, beautifully muscled; her beauty lay not in her features, but in the strength of her body. But this amazon's face softened when she saw Pachacamac, and she willingly knelt with the other two women at his feet.

"These are my high priestesses," Pachacamac said. "I know that our customs are not yours, and I hope you will take no insult when I explain them. These women," he waved a hand over them again, "are my special treasures. They are mine alone, but you may help yourself to any of the other women in the temple. If women do not appeal, we can find a fair-faced servant or groundsman to suit your tastes. They are eager to serve us, in whatever you may require. Indeed, it is the purpose of their lives; to give us all that we could desire."

A soft chime rang through the room, and Pachacamac smiled. "That is the signal for dinner. Star Woman; Silver Feathers; would you accompany me and my mamaconas to our feast?"


* "sparrow"
** "sun of joy"
*** "wild cat or ocelot"

Meghan glanced at Timeslip, then back to Pachacamac. While she no longer required food, having a feast in a setting like this promised to be very memorable indeed, particularly considering the company.

Pity I'll never be able to tell anyone about it, Meghan thought.

"Feast? That sounds delightful," Meghan said with unconcealed anticipation, leaving unspoken her anticipation of what could follow the feast-- or even take place off to the side of the feast for that matter. She started to rise, then paused, unsure of whether she should rise first as the invited guest or wait for Pachacamac to do so as the lord of the palace.