Page 95 of Tidal Creatures

It looks like something a computer generated for a movie about fantasy worlds hidden beyond impossible doors, all curls and gentle arches spiraling out from the two points of contact, braiding themselves together to form the arched structure of the gate itself, which gleams silver and brilliantly white, like someone has covered the wall in a thin layer of embossing glitter.

Judy takes a deep breath and drops away, her eyes changing tones as Chang’e rises to the surface. “We’re so far from the moon, but I feel it all around us,” she says, glancing to Artemis. “Whose everything is this? Which of us opened the door?”

“I don’t know,” says Artemis. “I guess go through and see?”

Chang’e nods before walking calmly into what was previously solid white-painted concrete. There’s no resistance; she’s just through, appearing on the other side of the glittering veil. She looks around, then turns back to the others. “It’s solid,” she says. “I don’t know whether it’s mine—I suppose the window will answer that. Dodger, try to come through.”

The living force of mathematics steps forward, and scowls as she bumps her nose against the wall. “Ow,” she says. Then she looks more closely at the shimmering veil. “I could force it, but I don’t think that would be a good idea. The equations that comprise this thing are—woof. They’re complicated. And that’s putting it really, really lightly. I guess this was a bust. So now we find the asshole alchemist and get the hell out of here.”

David steps forward, his own eyes gleaming with an icy sheen for a moment as Máni steps up to the forefront. He takes Dodger’s hand in his, ignoring the way she half-recoils, and walks into the wall. Walks through the wall, pulling Dodger with him, into the black-and-rainbow tunnel beyond the gate.

Dodger yelps as they pass through the gate, then yanks her hand from his and glares at him. “Don’t touch me,” she snaps. “I didn’t say you could touch me.”

For Kelpie and Artemis, every word is clear as day. For Erin and Roger, her mouth moves, but no sound emerges. She’s somewhere else, somewhere beyond their ken.

Roger’s eyes abruptly widen, and he lunges for the gate. Erin is quick enough on the uptake to realize what must have just happened; she catches his arm before he can slam into the wall, as incapable of passing through on his own as his sister is.

“The two of you got by just fine for years without playing cranial roommate; you can stand being separated for five minutes,” she says, pulling him back, away from the transparent patch on the wall. Artemis looks at her, puzzled.

Erin sighs. “There’s only one Doctrine of Ethos,” she says. “Fitting it into a single human body was impossible—it’s too big, and that’s saying something, given some of the concepts they can cram into a human skin—so they had to give the Wonder Twins here two bodies to work with. Doesn’t actually make them distinct from each other. They grew up enough apart to develop individuality, and they’re separate enough to be considered different people, but as soon as they became manifest, they moved into each other’s heads, and they haven’t been apart since then. If Dodger’s on a different plane of reality, I’m betting they can’t hear each other’s thoughts. I’d think he’d see this as a good thing, especially if he’s planning to get frisky with a moon goddess.”

Artemis lifts her eyebrows. “Oh? Which one?”

“The one whose host loves languages almost as much as he does, if that’s even possible,” says Erin. “Not you.”

“I mean, no, not me,” agrees Artemis. She looks at the gate, through which the trio remains visible. Máni is holding Dodger back; she’s trying to get to the gate, apparently as distressed by the separation from her brother as he is by his separation from her. “I’m definitely not his type.”

“Not linguistic enough?”

“Too gay. Hang on.”

She steps through into the familiar rainbow black of the everything, clapping her hands together. “Dodger! Look at me!”

Dodger stops pulling against Máni and looks. Artemis smiles, trying to look reassuring.

“Cool. Glad you can listen. Erin says you probably don’t have your brother in your head right now, and that’s why you’re freaking out. Can you still do the necessary calculations while you’re distracted by the quiet?”

“I can,” says Dodger, sullenly. “There used to be a little door in the back of my head, and when I closed it, I couldn’t hear him. So I know I can work when it’s quiet.”

“Good. Chang’e?”

“Yes?”

“Take her to the window. I’m going to stay here with the others, make sure I can defend them if that alchemist comes back while we’re waiting on you.”

She steps out of the everything there, leaving the three of them to start their journey.

Outside, Roger is still staring raptly at the gate. Erin and Kelpie are watching him, both looking profoundly uncomfortable with the situation, with splitting the party. Artemis moves to stand next to the trio, watching as the others move away into the dark.

“That’s the everything?” asks Erin.

Artemis nods.

“It hurts my eyes.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s nothing chaotic about it, and absolutely everything about it is chaotic, at the same time.”