"...Well, I suppose I ought to go investigate the state of the art in that, then.  Dreamwards are very necessary, and if there's anything I have that could improve production...

"It's my civic duty to help out, as far as I'm concerned."

...Well.  Time to go back to the library.

It is there as ever.

What's the actual dreamward production process look like?  Accumulating property X from sources thereof, she knows, but how do they actually do it?  Is there a specific procedure they follow?

It doesn't have to be done all at once, which is good because it can be very time-consuming to find enough objects that have the property. People choose an object, usually a stone, often a sculpture - and then transfer the klaon-repelling property into that sculpture, thousands of times. Very small dreamwards are sometimes set up in rural areas so farmers don't have to travel into the city to visit their kids but mostly you want huge ones for a cityful of children to sleep in until they have grown up enough to move in with each other.

Do parts of those objects retain their warding properties, if they're separated from the whole?

Depends! Spiderwebs don't seem to but it might be that it's hard to bisect something like a spiderweb without making it not really a web any more. You can use just-cut wood, and live wood is one of the most easily accessible sources, so it's common for troporters to go out with their dreamward-to-be chopping up trees and quickly using each piece before it dies.

Once they're actually dreamwards, she means.

...Also she is absolutely going to figure out bonsai, if the volume of the material troported from doesn't matter.

Complete dreamwards are normally made extremely durable since if one broke klaonso could get in and eat everyone's children; no one has tried to double-or-nothing their dreamward that this library knows about.

...what, none have ever broken, chipped, been struck by lightning?

Not as far as the library knows.

Huh.  Well, she has an idea for how to double-or-nothing the actual klaon repellance factor, anyway.

So she'll just need some live wood, and...

1, 2, 4, 8, 16, 32, 64, 128, 256, 512, 1024, 2048, 4096, 8192, 16384...

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15...16 for good measure, objects that break in half easily!

...What time is it, anyway?  It feels like it's been a day and a week at the same exact time and one of her intuitions must be wrong.  ...probably the one that points to 'a week'; she'd've died of dehydration.

Anyway, she'll head to Wheat's office; is he in right now?

(...She misses actual clocks.)

Wheat is not in right now.

Well, darn, but okay.

Is there anyone here who has a convenient "studies troportation" nameplate?

Nope, the doors have names of people on them. ("Blackberry", "Quilt", "Ink", "Rose", things like that.)

Well, she'll ask at the front desk then.

(She's abominably curious about what brought up this naming tradition, but right now is time for SCIENCE!  By which she means MATHEMATICS!)

"Hello, I was wondering if you could direct me to your professor of applied troportation, or whoever would be closest?"

"- or whoever would be closest?" asks the front desk person.

"In field of study."

"Oh, that makes more sense. Professor Beryl is probably in a class now but will have her office sand afterwards; the blue building, second floor."

"Thank you for your time."

To the blue building's second floor!  ...Huh.  Funny coincidence of colors, that one.  She thinks.  Beryl might not be blue.

There is an office with "Beryl" written on it, and a couple chairs in the hallway she can sit in to wait.

And wait she shall, idly trying to figure out how gearboxes work.

Here comes someone who might be Professor Beryl, letting herself into the office.

And she shall let Professor Beryl get herself situated, then knock and presumably enter herself.

"- hello, have we met?"