"What if the islands collide?" Chamlis asked.

"What if they do?" Yay turned to look at the man and the machine. It was getting still darker outside, and the room lights were slowly brightening. She shrugged. "Anyway; you could make it so they didn't… but don't you think it's a wonderful idea? Why should one old woman and a machine be able to stop me?"

"Well," Chamlis said, "I know the Preashipleyl machine, and if it thought your idea was good it wouldn't just ignore it; it's had a lot of experience, and—"

"Yeah," Yay said, "too much experience."

'That isn't possible, young lady," the drone said.

Yay Meristinoux took a deep breath, and seemed about to argue, but just spread her arms wide and rolled her eyes and turned back to the window. "We'll see," she said.

The afternoon, which had been steadily darkening until then, was suddenly lit up on the far side of the fjord by a bright splash of sunlight filtering through the clouds and the easing rain. The room slowly filled with a watery glow, and the house lights dimmed again. Wind moved the tops of the dripping trees. "Ah," Yay said, stretching her back and flexing her arms. "Not to worry." She inspected the landscape outside critically. "Hell; I'm going for a run," she announced. She headed for the door in the corner of the room, pulling off first one boot, then the other, throwing the waistcoat over a chair, and unbuttoning her blouse. "You'll see." She wagged a finger at Gurgeh and Chamlis. "Floating islands; their time has come."

Chamlis said nothing. Gurgeh looked sceptical. Yay left.

Chamlis went to the window. It watched the girl — down to a pair of shorts now — run out along the path leading down from the house, between the lawns and the forest. She waved once, without looking back, and disappeared into the woods. Chamlis flickered its fields in response, even though Yay couldn't see.