<I am not complete with my labors,> said Valeria’s voice. <But—I am close.>
Sancia jumped at the sound, and looked around. She expected to see the huge golden figure towering over her—but instead she saw Valeria’s visage emerge from one of the many reflections in the walls before her.
But just one. None of the others. The effect was deeply disturbing.
“What the hell am I looking at, exactly?” asked Sancia. “What did you do to our goddamn basement?”
<Providing myself with a contact point,> she said. <I chose a fundibular solution. It seemed most elegant for the circumstances.>
“What does that mean?” asked Sancia. She peered in through the open door. “How is our damned basement…fundibular?”
<I am capable of applying alterations radiating outward from my locus—but, outward space is not terribly available, given the current circumstances. Inward is best selection. Wrinkles within wrinkles within wrinkles radiating inward is more efficient for frictional purposes.> A click from somewhere, and the reflections in the walls seemed to split into more and more reflections. <The more surface available, the more anchored I become.>
Sancia struggled to comprehend this. “So…you’ve, like, wrinkled up the reality within our basement?”
<True. In a manner of speaking. Does this disturb?>
Sancia didn’t answer. She just took a step back, shut the door, and turned and pressed her back up against it.
What the hell? What the hell have we gotten ourselves into?
“Sancia?” Berenice came down the stairs, yawning. “Is Valeria done with…whatever it was she needed to do? Because something feels very odd about…Well. Everything.”
Sancia opened her mouth to answer, but realized she didn’t know how. “See for yourself,” she said finally.
She opened the door for her.
Berenice stared inside. Sancia could hear Valeria say: “Hello, other girl.”
Without a word, Berenice reached out, grabbed the door, and slammed it shut.
“Oh my God,” she said faintly. “And I…I thought Crasedes was bad!”
“Yeah,” said Sancia. She rubbed her eyes. “With Crasedes, you just feel him bending reality. You don’t have to scrumming see him do it.”
Berenice thought hard for a moment. “She can probably hear us talking.”
“Huh? How could she?”
“Well, I mean…with the definition we got for her, she’s capable of directly influencing the reality all around her, like the Mountain did. Like—the definition essentially asserts that she’s the God of everything around her. I think that’s why the atmosphere inside the firm feels changed.”
“Yeah?” said Sancia.
“So—if Crasedes can’t get within a thousand yards of here, or whatever some such, because that’s the limit of her influence…and if we’re inside of that influence…then technically we’re inside of her. Like—right now.”
“Other girl apprehends well,” whispered Valeria’s voice in Sancia’s ear appraisingly.
“It appears,” said Berenice faintly, “that I am right…”
“True. The functionality is like your foundry lexicons. Proximity is crucial. Closer to the locus, the more influence I maintain. The more you can hear me, in other words.”
They cracked open the door and peered inside. “Can we…like, come inside?” asked Sancia.
“There is no reason why not.”
“We wouldn’t be stepping on your brain or something?”
A pause.
“Unsure how to respond to this question.”
“Never mind.”
They walked down the steps into the basement—if that word even applied anymore. The experience was deeply strange: you knew there were walls and a ceiling and floor around you, but when you actually looked at them there were so many reflections that you got the paralyzing sense that the floor and walls weren’t actually there at all.
I can’t help but get the strong sensation, thought Sancia, that we are literally inside of Valeria’s mind…
She focused on what few tangible things she could see. All of their belongings were still in here: tables, pens, chairs…though now that she noticed, they had been carefully rearranged.
“You moved our stuff around?” she asked.
“True,” said Valeria, sounding tired. “This was a test. And it…wearied me greatly. Disappointing. Manipulation of physical items should not be so difficult within boundaries of my influence. Especially so proximal.”
Berenice looked at the items on the table in the corner. “You unfolded all of our papers, too, and stacked them…”
“That was the most difficult. Though you might not be aware, the focus and tactile care required to unfold a ball of paper is…profound.”
“Didn’t you hurl a dozen big-ass rocks at Crasedes just last night?” asked Sancia.
“Untrue. I simply reversed the Maker’s commands. This is much simpler than manipulating a physical object. All changes you see were done so that I could ascertain the limits of my influence. My assessment is…not terribly encouraging, unfortunately.”
Sancia looked into the reflections in the wall, hunting through the many shards of images until she found Valeria’s face staring back at her. “Wait. So…if these simple tasks are so hard for you, then…did we do all this for nothing?”
“Untrue.”
“But…But I thought this definition was supposed to make you, like, the God of this little place!”
“True,” said Valeria. “But the effect is weak. Tribuno had to stack it six times over to make the Mountain function.”
“And how many times would we need to stack it for you to be back to full strength?” asked Berenice.
A pause.
“I would estimate,” said Valeria, “about several hundred times, at least.”
Sancia threw her hands up in the air. “Well, shit!”
“We are not getting three hundred more of these definitions,” said Berenice. She looked quite shaken at the prospect. “Not only would they be very hard to produce, but we would also have to kill hundreds of people to make them.”
“This I comprehend. I do not suggest this strategy.”