It happens one day that she attempts to read Alice, thinking it about time to top off her supply of coins - and besides, even if it weren't, she does like to spend time with her boyfriend - and - he's not there.
Her first reaction is panic. She has known from the beginning that a contest between them would come down to reaction time. Did she screw up by introducing him to Ghosty - did something else happen - does some switch trip in the relevant template at a certain age, is hers decent only because he's young - has he blocked her off with his considerable power and begun to wreak havoc?
But of course there's a much more reasonable explanation. He's in Milliways, that's all, he found a door and wandered off without thinking to notify her.
Because visits to Milliways take only moments worldside. This has been true even when they've been into other's worlds: the door is at a very narrow slice of time except when held open.
But she checks again a minute later.
And he's still not there.
Is he dead? Did he think of - stumble across - cook up some way to die that would be so fascinating that he had to try it right then, without consulting her, without thinking of her and how it would hurt her at all, without knowing if stars can revive the dead -
Or did he, somehow, in spite of what is now magically bolstered love for her -
Decide not to come back at all?
She's getting ahead of herself. She can find out if he went to Milliways or not. She -
Stops before completing her wish.
If he's gone - if he's not coming back soon, or at all - then she has to work at least for a while with the coins she already has.
She will not spend a pentagon to see this one snippet of the past. She will spend a hex to gain past-viewing as a stable power she can use whenever she wants. If she chooses the right powers to make with her current supply of hexes, she may be able to coast for many years with almost no individual wishes larger than a square. Now that she has the template of Olympus to draw on she's sure she could find a way to compress wishes for more cities - maybe even planetsful of cities - into single stars, and she has a lot of stars from the days Alice spent turning.
And there have got to be other masochists in the world. Some might be comparable, or people like Shell Bell's Sherlock who'll willingly be made so.
Her empire will go on just fine.
Bella's just not sure - when she's finished designing and installing the power, when she's finished watching Alice casually walk through the kitchen door in his lair to Milliways instead and not come out - whether she will.
[My favourite sentence,] she says, dryly but not unsympathetically. [What's up?]
[Alice walked into Milliways about an hour ago and didn't mention he was going. He hasn't come out. I'm aware that sometimes Milliways is just uncooperative, but it hasn't been to us before, and I have to consider the possibility that he's managed to die or find something more interesting than being the consort of a space empress, mate bond notwithstanding. And that means that - quite apart from my personal reaction to his disappearance - I need to think about replacing him in a more functional capacity. I think I can get notes to everyone who might be able to usefully take over with a hex, maybe a star, but then assuming there's a bunch of them they have to be pared down, and they have to be trustworthy, because this would involve making them a mint.]
[Well,] says Libby. [I'm sorry to hear that. And you can sign me right up to vet the candidates.]
[Thanks. I'll want to do the last pass of interviews, but I'd like it pared down some. Shall I just put your @eos email address on the note?]
She checks.
Her ingot power won't allow it.
[Aaaand I'm right. Okay. My note draft looks like "A magical process, unmonitored in its details by any person, has determined that you may possess a skill which is essential to a position the Empire of the Stars is currently hiring for. If you may be interested, please email libby@eos.eos, or, if email is inaccessible, tear this note into eight pieces of any size and your identity and location will be noted. Any other response to this note will not alert anyone to the fact that you were among those contacted, and you should feel free to do so." I guess it's a bit complicated, but I can't really see working with anyone who doesn't understand that level of complexity anyway unless the circumstances get really dire. Can you interview them without explaining what exactly they're interviewing for? I'm going to want a magically enforced nondisclosure thingy and it'd be slightly more expensive for you to be able to do it as well.]
[I can absolutely interview people without explaining what exactly they're interviewing for,] says Libby.
[I thought so. You're awesome,] says Bella. [Any suggestions on the note?]
[Do you have languages and accessibility covered? Will it appear in Braille for a blind recipient?]
[Languages yes - I hadn't thought of Braille, I'll do that. I suppose as long as I'm trying to be discreet I should also arrange for the note to appear when the recipient is alone.]
[Good idea,] she says. [Not that it will prevent rumours. I have no idea how common this kind of... talent... is, but if there's enough notes, it'll get around.]
[I'm going to filter for some other characteristics too - people who don't love their current job, for one thing. I don't want you to have to interview half a million people.]
Bella can't do it with a hex. She spends a star, biting her lip. (At least she mass-declawed them after Alice turned and her supply of hexes doesn't have to be balanced against her supply of stars.)
Over the next day or so, masochists of Alice's caliber, or who would welcome becoming of same, who do not have jobs they like, who are not vehemently opposed to the Empire of the Stars or particularly wary of magic, who according to a naive and loose magical evaluation are reasonably bright and decent - receive notes.
She has to shift a lot of priorities to get them all down as fast as she wants to. Once or twice she has to pentagon a language. She does them in batches, and then she goes home and thinks hard about the people she's just met and whether or not she would trust them with the world.
It's a week before she gets back to Bella with a first-pass list of names, and it's a short list.
The emails, one addressed to Anna Reeve and one to Sandy Buford, read:
Hello! My personnel officer has shortlisted you; congratulations. When are you available to be teleported to Mars for an interview with me?
- the Empress of the Stars
She hits send.
She sighs, and closes her computer, and teleports to Alice's lair and hugs herself.
This Sunday?
Anywhere from noon to 9, I'm free all day, but earlier's better. Toronto.
All right, I'll see you then.
Sunday's a few days away. She avoids using too much of her stash, although on Cygnus she eliminates as many forms of cancer as she can fit onto a single star-wish.
Works for me.
She'll go see Sandy first; she can go at noon sharp and if she hasn't decided on him one way or another by the time she needs to go visit Anna she can schedule another.
[Yep,] says Libby. [These things happen when you take a very small sample from a very small sample of a very large set.]
On Sunday, at noon sharp, Bella turns invisible and teleports to Sandy's location to scope the place out and make sure he's as ready as he claimed.