Vitek tries to take a look. Phaidra shows him, but it isn't really that informative. "How many people do you have?"

"Thousands."

Well, that sounds both good and terrible. "Sorry, for, uh, adding more."

"Not your fault, in many, many, so many ways."

Shrug.

"Do you want to talk? Or ask questions?"

"How long I was out? And... how long do I need her thing?"

"I think you're out for an hour and to get the full effect I need eight days of contact. Doesn't have to be all in one go."

"And no one else needs it?"

"Of course. But, see, I sometimes get unpleasant to be around and trying to touch eight people at the same time doesn't help."

"I guess so would I, and I have not seen that many people in a decade."

"Oh. I am so sorry."

Shrug. He doesn't know what to say.

They can be quiet for a few moments, while organizing their notes.

Elsewhere, people are talking.

"It was just the first try."

"Well, if you see it our way, every single time we tried to summon someone you wanted to keep them around."

"That's not entirely fair. But I am more concerned with how sick he was."

"Megaera is confident that she should be able to cure him. And depending on how fast it sets in we might have a temporary back-up world." Pherikles argues.

"Very temporary," someone says a bit sarcastically.

Pherikles shrugs.

"Maybe he was wrong about the state of his world."

"Or it was a lie."

"I doubt it was untrue, but worth checking." Pherikles proposes. "And this still is worth trying a second time."

"Fine, but I don't care if it's a sick innocent orphan girl, no more people."

"Maybe she can go with scar guy."

"His name is Vitek," Pherikles reminds them. "Depending on the state of the world it might not be a bad idea to transfer Vitek there or someone from there to Vitek's world."

The meeting continues.

At some point, Vitek feel asleep again. A short doze off.

The girls are gone, but instead there are couple of men. One giant, one not.

They are both holding Vitek's feet. "Hey, there. Our girls had to go, but we are sort of replacing them."

"Your girls?"

"Our daughters. Those girls are our daughters."

"Oh, okay?"