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let Zand have something that he； Lang； feared to claim as his？
No matter。 Zand had had his transcendence； all right。 And to hear Dana Sterling tell it； it was all in line with the fear of the Shapings that was almost a religious fervor within Lang sow。
Here in newspace； though； the Shapings had gone awry or petered out or 。。。 Lang was not sure what。
His polestar faith； the Shapings； led him no more。 The politicians and the military would go on pretending there was something they could do； but he knew differently。 There was only one possible way to save the lives onboard the SDF…3 and； more important； the universe threatened by newspace。
That route lay in a direct encounter with the Shapings。 And the only way anyone would do that would be to raise oneself beyond the limits of mortal power； at least for a single moment。
Only no one was going to do that with Zor's equipment； not with Second Gen Protoculture at any rate。
At least 。。。 not as the console was configured now。 Lang drew his stool closer and sat absorbed in the console。 After long minutes he reached for a sensor and hooked it into one of the system's peripherals。 He took up a touchpad and began keying equations into his mainframe； scarcely aware he was doing it。
He paused to run his hand along the console in thought； recalling its Protoculture thunderbolt； and almost threw down the touchpad。 It was madness！
There was a sudden flux in the equipment…not unusual； he'd had to jury…rig a lot of the modifications that let it use Second Gen Protoculture。 He forgot his frustration and fear； watching rainbow waves of distortion chasing each other across the ten…foot screen。
Lang did not even need to wonder what he'd see next； he had viewed the recording so many times that he knew the pattern of the static that preceded it。
He was staring at the ageless； elfin face again； with its wide； almond eyes； framed by a mane of bright； starlight hair。 He'd long since memorized the sounds of Zor's speech of greeting and warning。
Zor's recording。 Kicked up at random by a meaningless Protoculture hiccup； some might say。
But Lang took his touchpad back in hand and sat down； staring unblinkingly at Zor。 When the recording had run its course； he went back to his calculations。
All across New Praxis the surface…effect and aerospace vehicles were on the move。
The Amazons had e there with little agrarian experience； they'd hunted； herded； and gathered the untended bounty their homeworld offered up naturally。 But they had met their new planet's demands with their innate adaptability and their hard…nosed refusal to give up。
They raised some of their food in vats； greenhouses； and aeroponic domes； but the key to their survival had been rendering parts of the stalk and roots of the Flower of Life edible （the fruit being deadly to them）。 They had learned to farm。
And now they were learning to reap in a way they had never conceived of。
From every point of the pass the ground wagons； air lorries； and skyboats converged。 Military； private； mon carrier…every vehicle on the planet had been mobilized by women working to exhaustion and beyond。 None had slept since Haydon's appearance。
In the main plaza of Zanshar； before the cloning center； the pile of Flowers grew。 Every specimen had been carefully scanned to make sure it was unpollinated。 All had been bagged in clearseal to ensure that they stayed that way。
And that raised a troubling point。 For some reason the mysterious little Pollinators； whose nature it was to tend the Flowers and who had ranged freely across New Praxis； had disappeared。 Some thought that an evil portent； but no one dared voice the opinion。
The pile of bagged Flowers grew and grew； higher and higher； until it had attained the top step and spilled against the high front doors of the cloning center。
Bela watched from the opposite end of the main thoroughfare； from the uppermost parapet of her castle。 The Amazons' big orbital freight shuttle was nearly ready to receive the bounty of New Praxis。 Cargo pods were already being wheeled into place to transport the Flowers。
Bela had sent her guards and advisers from her。 Silently she watched through the night as Flowers were trundled off toward the shuttle pad。 The shuttle lifted off like a morning star for its flight into high…orbit and a rendezvous with Haydon IV （how the artificial world had drawn so close without colliding with New Praxis or； at the very least； causing catastrophic damage； no one knew）。 It would return with the sealed； prefabricated modules that would be activated to form a new Whaashi。
But in the meantime； what dark harvest have we reaped？ The thought came like a sword cut； over and over。
CHAPTER TWENTY…NINE
〃Peter Pan； huh？〃 I said to him。 〃Hope we packed plenty of pixie dust； Tink。〃
Louie Nichols； remark to General Vincent Grant； quoted in Nichols's Tripping the Light Fantastic （fourth edition）
In spite of himself； he was nearly nodding off when he felt his wife's fingers dig into his arm。 〃Max！ Look！〃
The fingers sank in with enough strength to make him wince； being a mother had not robbed Miriya of any of her Zentraedi sinew and vigor。 Max was instantly wide awake； sitting up straight on the sleeping pad he and Miriya had thrown down on the bare deck to keep a vigil by their daughter。
He saw what she meant at once： Aurora was blinking as if ing out of a dream； and the apparitions that were the SDF…3 children had vanished。
Miriya was first to her daughter's side； feeling her forehead with one hand； checking her pulse with the other。 On the other deck levels； people were taking note of the change。
Aurora put up with the fussing but insisted； 〃I'm all right； Mother。 Father。〃 She put an arm around each of them and hugged。
Max offered up a prayer of thanks。 Aurora was so ethereal； so seemingly unsuited for hardship and strife…it broke his heart whenever he thought of her ing to harm。
Jean Grant had arrived to gently nudge Miriya aside and run a diagnostic scanner over Aurora。 Louie Nichols was there； too； practically jumping up and down； dying to ply Aurora with questions。 Max laid a restraining arm on him。 〃Give her a minute；