He's going to kill them they have to get away--
she commands it--
and then they are away and it occurs to her that she never specified where to. She slowly unclenches her arms from their death grip around her sister and looks around.
He's going to kill them they have to get away--
she commands it--
and then they are away and it occurs to her that she never specified where to. She slowly unclenches her arms from their death grip around her sister and looks around.
"The thing we'd most like to be able to do," says the senator, "is travel to other planets, empty ones, and send people to live there. Is that something magic could help with?"
"Oh. Magic..." she trails off. "Magic now." She holds her hands a certain distance apart. "Magic later." She brings her hands farther apart.
She makes a wobbly gesture. "Do not-bigger magic, magic gets bigger years, do bigger magic, magic gets bigger months."
"I don't know what things are bigger when done with magic," explains the senator. "For example, with computers, it turns out they find math very easy, and identifying birds very hard, even though people find identifying birds easier than doing math."
Nod. She dismisses the illusion and does one with a piece of metal changing shape in her hands.
"So making new material is a bigger deal than just molding something. All right. What can you do in general terms - I'm wondering if you can season the rainforest -"
"The places on Amenta where people like to live have four seasons every year. The equator and the poles don't. If people try to live there, their hormones do unpleasant things."