Quibble, 55. Sen-an-dah
Alnasl teaches Quibble about survival in the Waste, and Quibble realizes Asuja gave her a fighting chance.
rem
Chapter 54, “Between,” was the last chapter provided in full for free. To read the rest of Quibble, you need a paying subscription. Until June 30th, 2025, I’m offering a 20% discount on both annual and monthly subscription plans. Take your pick!
If you’re reading no more of Quibble, my parting gift for you is the short story “Away,” which is entirely unlike the novel.
Away
{ Nat, an AI with too much to do, takes a vacation. }
Jared sat at the kitchen table, twiddling a fork in half-eaten eggs, playing Wordle on his phone. The phone brightened, its backlight shifting from blue to red, back to blue. A soft, solicitous voice spoke to Jared from the loudspeaker in the kitchen ceiling.
You may also be interested in reading my other ‘stack, Fool in the Woods:
cont
55. Sen-an-dah @Quibble
Stars all around me, a distant moon shining palely.
I floated in the hub of an Egg, clasping Utopia’s interface to my chest. The Egg’s sphinx coalesced from Its scattered scrim of stardust and took the form of Meissa. The lady of kindness regarded me with a tender smile, her eyes holding a dare or a wish or maybe only a fading hope.
“We’re together in a private loneliness,” she told me.
“The loneliness of the glass,” I agreed, and with a slight nod she extended her hand. I reached for it, but my hand passed through hers, feeling nothing. I felt a stab of betrayal in my gut. “Why can’t I touch you?”
“A world of made is not a world of born.”
Meissa’s eyes flashed like stars going nova, sparkling crimson.
I shuddered. “No. No! Not you!”
She disintegrated, her stardust now taking the form of fiercely blazing red orbs. They surrounded me. Her voice boomed: “There must be control!”
“You can’t have it!” I screamed, and I realized I was not refusing her control but what I held. I looked down. In the palm of my hand lay a small oval glass, translucent, chatoyant, refracting crimson rays, its true color eclipsed.
“Silly Quill, I don’t need to take it,” the disembodied voice of Meissa declared. “I only need to touch it. I have touched it, and it’s mine!”
My hand curled into a fist around the glass, but suddenly it was gone. I opened the hand. Empty. Gone. I blinked my eyes as if that would bring the glass back to me. Gone, gone. The orbs of control huddled around me, and then I knew only delirium and pain. My flesh was on fire.
“They murdered your mother,” said Meissa.
Without, utterly Without, I burned.
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