13

Deeter inspected Timbella's studio flat with great interest. Apart from the Professor's minimalist space, he hadn't been in someone's home at all in his new life. It was completely different from any inn or tavern room, of course, but it was surprisingly similar to where he'd grown up. Aside from the screen to hide half. The furniture style was different, of course, but it was all old and matched after being bought, rather than as a set. The couch and three chairs shared the same shaggy yellow fabric, but that was all.

Besides too many chairs for the space, the art covered the wall without any respite or awareness of the possible wall beneath. Most were unframed sketches or watercolors, but there were a few key enormous pieces. Everything was stylized, no realism. He sat on the couch and stared across at the largest piece. It was overly stylized as well, but it appeared to depict a wolf hunt. At least, that was what it seemed to him. He didn't want to ask but Timbella sat next to him and began talking about it.

"Dad's first wife was an artist. She didn't title any of it so I have no idea what it's supposed to be. Maybe it was all about her disease and how she knew she was going to die."

Deeter frowned. "If you don't mind, I would appreciate you not make light of the dead."

"Oh, ok, I didn't know -"

"Yes, it's fine. Just letting you know."

She put her hand in his. "Your people have a big taboo about death, huh?"

"I wouldn't say that. Um. We believe that our ancestors ascend into a kind of heaven and become minor dieties, you could say. We pray to them rather than an all-powerful creator. But the common people have different beliefs."

She laughed. "Oh me, the common people! You really are a snob."

He decided to change the subject. "So where are these irises?"

"In the kitchen. I guess I can bring them out here." She got up and returned shortly with a potted iris. He was impressed with the translator, now. He would definitely have called that flower an iris if he'd seen it by himself.

"And that flower -"

"Causes hallucinations, yeah. You'll probably see the walls melting. I'm gonna put on some groovy music while I mix it up."

Hallucinations? Why would someone voluntarily want to see things that weren't there? Deeter felt terror, and decided he needed more information to calm down.

"When you say 'the walls melt'-"

"It's what it looks like," she called out. "Really you just find it hard to focus, and the edges of everything go wavy, people just like to say the walls melt." She came back with one tall and one short glass. "Since you're such a newbie, we'll just give you a half dose. It won't be as intense. It only lasts about two hours, unless you drink more. It just goes through your kidneys. Although don't ask me about the kid I knew who'd drink his own urine."

He felt a little better now. And besides, he knew he was going to be seeing things, so it didn't sound like true hallucinations. That was a good thing to keep in mind.

"Bottoms up!"