in the chair at the table if Sasha hadn’t been standing there, but this was, really and truly, her own house. She could live here and never feel out of place.
Sasha moved toward the door. “You’ll be all right now. You can go out to the meadow again whenever you want to, and if you want to talk to me, all you have to do is think about me and I’ll come.”
Frieda whirled around. “Wait a minute. Not so fast.”
“What is it now?” Sasha asked.
“I still have some questions for you,” Frieda replied.
“Well, fire away,” Sasha told her.
Frieda shifted from one foot to the other. “I don’t like the idea of bringing someone to me against their will. What if they don’t want to come when I call them?”
Sasha turned toward her with a sigh. “It doesn’t work that way. You’re not bringing anyone against their will. It only looks like they come to you because the water forms a seamless connection between your mind and your body and your spirit and theirs. The other person never leaves their own meadow. To them, it looks like you came to them.”
Frieda blinked. “It does? So you’re in your own meadow right now?”
Sasha laughed “Of course I am. Think about it. Do you know anything about bees on Earth?”
“Bees?” Frieda repeated. “You mean like honey bees?”
“Exactly,” Sasha replied. “In their hives, they communicate through the smell of their pheromones. Their chemical signature tells all the other bees in the hive exactly what they ate that day, where they’re going, what they’re doing, even how old they are and how healthy they are. The smell, the temperature, the chemical composition of the wax, even the vibration of their wings against the hive box communicates to every bee in the hive exactly what the rest of the hive is doing. It creates one homogeneous chemical solution.”
“Are you telling me the Aqinas are the same?” Frieda asked.
“They are the same,” Sasha replied, “except it’s the water that creates the homogeneous solution. The chemical action of your body, even the electrical signals in your nervous system, are transmitted through the water to every other Aqinas. That’s how they communicate with each other, through the water. We aren’t standing here in a house talking to each other. That wouldn’t be possible in the middle of the ocean. The water creates the illusion we’re doing that because our minds can relate to that frame of reference most easily.”
Frieda really did sink into her chair then. “It’s awfully complicated.”
“Don’t make it any more complicated for yourself than you have to,” Sasha replied. “We’re standing here talking to each other, and that’s as real as anything. I’m not an illusion. I’m a real person, and I’m showing you around your new home. That’s real.”
“What else is real?” Frieda asked. “How can you tell where real ends and fantasy begins?”
“It’s all real,” Sasha replied. “Even the parts you’re calling fantasy are real. You can have the same relationships with people that you had on land. You can make a home for yourself here the same way you did on land. All the parts of life that make it worth living are here. It’s only the window dressing that’s different, and it isn’t even different, either. It’s the same as your life on land. It’s just different than it would be if the water didn’t make it the same.”
Frieda closed her eyes again, and her voice croaked out in a hoarse whisper. “Stop.”
Sasha took her hand once more. “Let’s go back to the meadow. Everything makes a lot more sense there.”
Frieda got to her feet. “What do you eat?”
Sasha shot her a glance over her shoulder. “What?”
“What do you eat?” Frieda repeated. “Do you hunt shellfish or something?”
Sasha’s face brightened. “The algae that moves oxygen into our blood also moves microscopic nutrients into our bodies so we don’t have to eat. But you can eat some of this