byAwareness returned curiously. She seemed to perceive all the shapes around her at once, she could not tell from what angle. She felt at complete peace, apart from a slight, stitching scratch…somewhere…like a thorn hidden in a bundle of fleece. Otherwise, at complete peace, even though…
They have put me in pylon 23, haven’t they? Deep Sleep.
She thought that speaking aloud would have been impossible, now. But a response floated into her:
What else could you expect?
High as you were among the Living Treasures of Papa’s Pride.
Papa’s Pride.Really? Was I?
How could you doubt it? Olivia Treadwell, the Da Vinci of loom and knitting needles.
Every body in the ship keeps warm in a Treadwell Original.
Not a few of them still of your own making.
And having raised as your apprentices and h
