Barkworth dreamed he was floating in a cloud of feathers... Big fluffy white feathers...

         When he awoke he found that he was indeed floating in feathers. He was lying on the softest feather-filled mattress he had ever experienced. The eiderdown above the soft silky sheets he was lying in also felt full of feathers.

         Even the woman lying so close to him seemed full of feathers...

        He awoke again with a start. The sun-filled room seemed covered in flowers, big sunny peach roses on long curly vines with huge green leaves...

        Unable to resist, he stole a kiss.

        Estelle stirred, then came awake.

         “Barkworth...” she looked up at him dreamily. “ - Barkworth..!” she then shouted as she quickly sat up.

         “Oh gosh...” she said, holding her head and running her fingers through her hair“ - Where...” she looked quickly around. “Oh gosh..! We're home! My home...!”

         Just as it began to dawn on him where he might actually be, Estelle quickly jumped out of the bed.

         “ - Carol..!” she shouted as she ran round the end of the bed and out of the room.

         Just then, Barkworth noticed the envelope on the dresser beside him. He picked it up and opened it carefully, he had never seen such an envelope outside of a museum. He also noticed a similar envelope on Estelle's dresser.

        “Carol is still with us.” the first line of the brief note read in large underlined letters. Then, in smaller type below, the letter said: “We will be with you as soon as we can. It is essential that you eat and drink first. We look forward to meeting you. Eric and Jillian. The Lalleldil.”

         “Christ..!” he shouted as he all but hurtled out of the bed. “Estelle..!” he shouted as he searched from room to room, barely noticing that the house was the most gorgeously restored old villa with double-hung windows in every outside wall, most of them in pairs.

         “Estelle! Thank God I've found you.”

         She was gazing at the large gilt-framed Otinda above a Victorian fireplace in ornately carved Kauri in what was obviously the living room. A copy of the note's message was on its screen.

         “She's still there! We've left her behind!”

         “Estelle, be sensible. I know it's hard for you, but all we can do is wait. Hopefully we'll know what's happening in – what, maybe half an hour or so. Meanwhile, we'd better do what the note says.. “

         Right on cue, his stomach rumbled. He didn't know if she heard it or not.

         “Okay, I was always quite good at being `sensible', as you put it. Had to be. Introducing Carol and the others to the dangers of Space was a challenge.”

         “ - Ah, where are we, by the way. I hope you don't mind me asking.”

         He looked round at the room they were in. A good four meters by four, it had the most curious wallpaper again consisting of large vines, but here with red roses picked out in gold on a cream background. It certainly suited the room with its comfortable-looking pink floral-patterned three-piece suite. Each of its pieces were accompanied by side-tables on which stood vases full of bright flowers, none of which looked artificial. In the center of the room, in front of the couch, was a low oblong glass-topped table of colonial design carved in what he took to be Matai. Open fields were visible through the finely-patterned net curtains covering the pair of double-hung windows in the far wall.

         Barkworth's eye then caught a bookshelf in the corner next to him which contained all sorts of large old-looking books.

         A hint of a smile at last appeared on Estelle's face. “In my home – my spaceship. I told you about that, didn't I? Though I don't think I told you much. Now there's something else I must do before anything else. Lady's business. You might like to use the garden, since you are so equipped. You can go through the back door. Follow me.”

         Her attempt at humor cheered him up a little, until:

         “Barkworth, there's something not quite right with – here. I don't know what it is. - I don't want to worry you, but It could be we're in another simulation.”

         And with that, she made her way out of the living room and made her way towards the back of the house. Barkworth followed.

         “I'm in here,” she pointed to a door directly ahead of her, it had a pair of tall narrow frosted glass panes with arched frames. “You can go through the kitchen,” she indicated the half-glazed door on her right.

         The long narrow kitchen looked wonderfully ancient, even though it had a newly built aura to it. Perhaps it was the fresh-looking cream paint on all the woodwork. A row of narrow glass sashes, most of them apparently openable, ran the whole length of the outside wall, under these and almost as long was a stainless-steel sink bench with cupboards below. A strip of eye-catching yellow and purple patterned tiles filled the narrow gap between the bench and the narrow ledge under the windows. The far wall had a glazed door, next to it was a gas stove; Barkworth knew that nearly all the cooking enthusiasts in Paradise used those. The wall opposite the windows was floor-to-ceiling cupboards, with a few drawers and bins below waist-level. What looked like a fridge straight out of a museum occupied an alcove half-way along. The smaller alcove to the left of it contained a Doanadar that had obviously been designed to fit the décor; it actually looked like an ancient microwave oven. Another alcove by the door he had just come through contained a varnished wooden serving trolley on casters.

        Barkworth now all but hurled himself out the outside door, his need for relief had suddenly become urgent. He quickly crossed the veranda that apparently wrapped right round the house and found it in time-honored fashion in some ferns that grew right up to it. He barely noticed the flag-stoned path a short distance away.

        He gazed around the exquisitely manicured grounds surrounding the back of the house. Barkworth could see a magnificent little octagonal summer-house a short distance away.

 
        He returned to the living room to wait for Estelle.

         “Barkworth..!” he heard her shout from the kitchen. “Come and help me please! Some changes been made here while I've been away,” she pointed at the Doanadar.

         “Guess where our dinners are coming from,” he laughed. He spoke to it: “Two full-scale roast beef dinners please, with all the trimmings. Thank you.”

         Their arrival a few seconds later was announced by a wonderful mechanical-sounding `ding...'

         “Voila..!” he said as he took out the first meal. He turned round to get the serving trolley, but Estelle had already brought it up to him.

         “I had thought of ordering up my granddad's `Kiwi Heartbuster Special'”, he said as he brought out the second meal, “but thought I'd better spare you that for now.”

         “I am sure I am going to love this,” she smiled enigmatically. “Looks almost as good as my ship used to make for me and my friends.”

         He then brought out a tray containing the cutlery and all the condiments appropriate to such a meal: salt, pepper, Worcestershire sauce, mustard, and two glasses of rich ruby port. All these items were duly placed in the serving trolley.

         “How did that thing know you and your tastes?” she asked him.

         “Voice and face recognition, I would think,” he replied. The `full scale roast dinner' is actually an exact prescription that I preloaded into the Doanadar system forever ago. It will probably respond to commands by you by now, you can select from a standard menu or specify your own. And not only meals, either, anything that will fit inside one. The whole of Paradise works this way; you'll see when I start showing you around.”

         “I hope I can look forward to that,” she said mock-nervously.

         They then both made their way through to the front veranda.

 
        The sun had risen high enough in the sky to put the veranda in shade, but Barkworth didn't mind. Even in their nightclothes, which it hadn't remotely crossed their minds to change from, the coolness was welcome. It was nice to be able to feel any sort of temperature again after the relative sterility of their Atlantis experience.

        The thought of that alone only made him feel even hungrier as he wolfed down his meal as if it would be the last one he'd ever eat.

         Even if Estelle's ship wasn't a simulation, it might as well be, he thought to himself as he looked out at the scene before him. A flag-stoned path, separated from the verandah  by a cultivated border garden, led along its length to a semi-circular apron by the front steps. On the other side of the path a neatly mowed lawn gradually merged into coarser grass. Increasing numbers of native trees, Kauri, Kahikatea, Rimu, grew from this until they eventually became a forest. Off to his left he could see a large cream-painted weatherboard garage with a red corrugated-iron roof; he wondered what it might contain.

         “You said earlier you thought we might just be in another simulation,” Barkworth said to her.

         “Well, yes,” she replied. “I used to have a direct link to its own `mind' if you like, we were after all a part of each other. But that's now been severed. I suspect several other changes will have been made, along with the installation of that new Doanadar thing. I guess we'll find out when we meet Eric and Jillian, whoever they turn out to be.”

         “And Carol too, hopefully.” Barkworth said.

         “Oh I do hope so..!” she turned to him. “I've been trying not to think about that, knowing that we will soon know. Maybe they will bring her with them... - Tea or coffee?” she asked him then in a calm flat voice that only belied her determination to stay calm in the face of her fervent hope.

         “Only tea could possibly do after a wonderful meal like that,” he was only too happy to indulge her. “ - Try using that `Doadanar thing' yourself. Ask it for one lump of sugar for me please. You can leave out the slice of lemon.”

         She laughed as she got up to return to the kitchen with the serving trolley and its now empty plates.

         “Just put the whole lot back in the Doanadar,” he called back to her. “Saves washing up. You don't have to do that anymore.”

 
        Just as she reappeared with two ornate flower-covered cups and saucers, which Barkworth thought was pretty clever if she had got those from the Doanadar, what Barkworth took to be Eric and Jillian came out of the side-door of the garage and approached them along the path.

         Carol wasn't with them.

         “Oh my gosh..!” Estelle exclaimed, holding the cups nervously.

        Barkworth had never seen her flustered before.

         He got up to take the cups from her trembling hands. “I guess I'd better fetch two more,” he suggested less than helpfully as he set them down on the veranda.

         “Hello, you two..!” Eric called to them. “Nice to meet you at last.”

         Barkworth was startled to see that they were so young. Perhaps in their early twenties, both were dressed in simple shorts and tee shirts. They might have come from any beach, sports field or dance club that most folk their age spent their time in in any era. He was blond and tanned, she redheaded with a paler, lightly freckled complexion.

         The thought of Quincey arose unbidden in his mind, even though this girl – Jillian – was much younger and really quite different in build and stature.

         “Thank you so much for coming,” Estelle was all welcoming, the strain in her voice clear for all of them to hear. “ - Please, I must know – where's Carol?”

         “Unfortunately, Carol has had to remain in Atlantis for the time being,” Jillian spoke in a soft clear voice, “and I have to tell you that, while we hold hope for her, she might not be with us as soon as I'm sure we'd all prefer.”

         Barkworth knew exactly what that meant. There was a significant likely-hood that Carol's life would eventually be brought to the kindest possible end like so many others of her kind.

         He noticed Eric's quick glance at him; he knew he knew.

         “Perhaps we should explain...” Jillian said. “It may be best if we proceed to your lounge. We may need to use the large Otinda you have there.”

         “Of course,” Estelle said in a way which suggested she had missed Jillian's inference. She would always be the most impeccable hostess.

         Barkworth picked up the two cups of tea as they made their way inside.

        The young couple seated themselves in the armchairs while Barkworth waited for Estelle on that hugely comfortable couch. She brought out the two cups of coffee the young couple had requested on a serving platter, with what Barkworth recognized as a Pavlova on a silver plate.

         He realized then that the entire spacecraft, even Estelle herself, had been molded to be comfortable to its original 1986 travelers. He was certainly comfortable here himself – and it made any thought of parting company from Estelle just that much more unthinkable.

         The notice on the Otinda had been replaced by an aerial shot of the Aotea floating  on an open sea which looked no different from any he had seen anywhere. A flying saucer lifted out of a hanger as he watched and swung across their view.

         “As Barkworth guessed,' Eric explained, “within the simulation of course, we dropped a very large Gate over the Atlantis just as it was rising from the sea, and transported it to a Renewed World, where it will no doubt contact other simulations placed there as `colonies'. I understand you know about Renewed Worlds, Barkworth?

         He laughed grimly. “If you know about my experience on Holliswald, then you know I know about Renewed Worlds. I also learned about Terminal Worlds as a result.”

         “Yes, we know about that,” Jillian said. “We're sorry, it can happen to any of us. You see, we've been there too,” she looked fondly at Eric. “We found ourselves in a different simulation from Atlantis – we met on what turned out to be a `tour party' with other Brits  visiting Egypt during its Third Dynasty. We saw the Pyramid of Cheops being built. What a magnificent edifice that was, clad in its original facing stones. The way it glowed like gold in the setting sun...”

         Her eyes glistened too as if she was still there. Eric took her hand.

        “We were lucky,” he said, “and we hope Carol will be lucky too. As you probably guessed, Barkworth, Atlantis was `Contacted' after its transfer, which allowed us to place a large number of possible couples to try and tempt Carol into a relationship, That's usually the only way back out of a simulation for unattached people like yourselves. Call it a `dating agency' if you must,” he smiled quickly at Jillian. “Sad to say, Carol has so far rejected all of them – all the males that is.”

         “What do you mean?” Barkworth had to ask. “She's found a – female friend? That could explain a lot that's been in the back of my mind.”

         “What do you mean..?” Estelle asked him.

         It was an awkward moment. He had no idea if Estelle had any notion of what being a lesbian was. But then, why would she, since she had as yet no experience of this Paradise of Transmutable Carnality.

         “As you must have realized, Estelle,” Eric looked at her, “Carol was somewhat emotionally unstable, that's why we put her in there with you. We thought that that would be her best chance. We knew she might resent Barkworth's presence, but we thought it worth taking the risk. Unfortunately...”

         “Yes, I am sorry, I suspected as much,” Barkworth said. “I did my best, but in the end there seemed little I could do. - Look, I have to say I've met rather a lot of people like Carol in Paradise. Unfortunately to survive in Paradise at all, you have to acquire certain harder attitudes or else, quite frankly, you're dead. You two have been there, you must know that. It becomes so deeply ingrained in you it's not easy to be sympathetic to those who don't, or worse, refuse, to acquire them.”

         “Or can't acquire them,” Eric said. “I think Carol comes into that category. I mean, considering all the events in her life and the unlucky experiences that happened to her on Atlantis. And it was just luck, Barkworth. You shouldn't feel in any way responsible.”

         He was trying to figure out a nice way of saying say `I don't' when Jillian stiffened, then reflexively held her hand up to her ear.

         “ - News..?” Estelle asked anxiously.

         “We see it as good news” she replied. “It appears Carol and her friend have become intimate. It seems they have made a discovery about themselves in their most fortunate discovery of each other.”

         A picture of Carol's new `friend' appeared on the Otrinda. A rather severe-looking woman of slightly Asiatic appearance, the label underneath it named her as Tronsil sul Rabica, from the World of Stensenoritil. Barkworth tried to fix it in his mind since he knew there was a fair chance of meeting her. He knew of course that all the inhabitants of her culture or even World might look `severe' as part of their natural state; he told himself for the umpteenth time not to make assumptions on the basis of a single example.

         “”Tronsil is a marine biologist,” Eric explained. “Like so many scientists from recently Contacted worlds, she lost her way when she thought she had lost her science. The odd thing is that marine biology is one of the few sciences that can continue to be pursued, there's always some new species to be found on a World and it's best found by humans. But for some reason Tronsil couldn't see that, even when it was explained to her.”

         A picture of the two girls then appeared on screen. They were walking along the promenade of one of the canals hand in hand, laughing and smiling as they blithely passed through the locals as if they weren't there. Barkworth found that oddly disturbing.

         “I am so glad Carol has found a friend at last,” Estelle said again. “But what do you mean by `intimate'?” she insisted. “Surely that's, well, impossible.”  

         Barkworth knew that he was going to have to explain the nature of lesbianism to her sooner or later. But before he could begin, Jillian got in before him:

         “It's alright, Estelle,” she tried to sound reassuring. “Because it's so unusual, most pre-Contact Worlds see lesbianism as something that needs to be cured or even punished. But if it does no harm and allows two people to find a closeness to each other that they couldn't through more conventional relationships, then it's hard not to see it as a good thing.”

         “Such relationships can be unstable though, but they can also be as deep and long lasting as any other,” Eric said,  “But then all relationships of whatever kind can be too, can't they?”

         “Gosh – I hope Carol will be alright,” Estelle said in a way that suggested to him she still hadn't quite grasped the nature of the situation in spite of Jillian's careful explanation. “She certainly seems happy enough.”

          “I guess you'll need to keep Carol – in there - until you can be reasonably sure.”  Barkworth asked Eric.

         “Since minutes in our world are almost hours in any Simulated World, we'll soon know,”  Eric replied.  He then looked at Estelle: “Unfortunately, `reasonably sure' offers no guarantees. If they decide they want to face the universe – Paradise - on their own, Estelle, they might prefer to re-enter it elsewhere. After all, Tronsil had a life too back on her own World. Whatever happens, we will of course let you know.”

         “I do understand,” Estelle said quietly.

         “Now, there are really only a couple of other important matters we need to discuss with you before we leave – and you can always find us through your Otinda,” Jillian reassured Estelle. “Firstly, as you have no doubt already guessed, your ship has been altered. Your control is now the same as that of any other person controlling a flying platform; it contains a comparator with sufficient consciousness and intelligence to do what you ask of it, verbally or any other means. I understand your ship – Eve, as I recall, was similar, Barkworth.”

         “She was actually as human as you can get, or she seemed so to us,” he replied. “And I do look forward to telling you about her, Estelle. I'm sure you would have liked her.”

         He wasn't sure he should have added that last bit.

         “There are many other important changes,” Jillian said. “Firstly, all your Gates have been replaced by Iskurahi Standard ones, which also means your ship is now permanently three kilometers across inside and out, you can't shrink it to the size of a `pebble' any more. That also means you can no longer set down on a World, it doesn't have the structural strength to allow that. You can travel through Tachyonic Space as before, but only to the Worlds of Paradise, you ship now knows how to find them. Or you can choose  to travel by leaving the ship where it is, currently at a Lagrange point near Earth, and using  Nessiks like everyone else. The chambers under your floor here remain intact and accessible, but your ability to manufacture artificial biological lifeforms has gone, that contravened one of the Torsyne's three strict rules. And you have been slightly changed Estelle, we have to say. Although you were always able to function sexually as I suspect you've already discovered, you remain completely unable to conceive and give birth. That was always the function of your ship – the nequisoma – that you were a part of, not you yourself. Severing the link between you may have had the effect of raising your libido slightly, we hope that that has not inconvenienced you in any way.”

         Barkworth had to laugh. Estelle looked at him quickly. “Guess that's better than reducing it,” he grinned.

         “Perhaps I shouldn't say this, but you've saved each others lives, you know,” Eric said. “The Iskurahi normally ends the lives of nequisoma and their hosts as soon as they're discovered, but the nature of Barkworth's misadventures that took him to that Terminal World made Estelle our perfect choice for him as a potential partner, not just because of Innesheer's `special modifications' you might say, but because of Barkworth's experience with Eve. I am sure, Barkworth, you will have no difficulty adapting to Estelle's ship since it is, after all, her home.”

         “I already have,” he looked at him. “I never want to leave it or Estelle, if she still wants me around. I hope she doesn't come to see me as the total arsehole Carol thought I was.”

         “ - Barkworth..!” she shouted at him in mock-reproach.

         “Okay,” Eric looked at Jillian. “I guess it's about time we took our leave.” They both began to get up. “Now one last thing: It is essential that you two get some exercise. Now's probably a good time for you to show Barkworth around your ship, Estelle. We know you have various swimming holes with the most delightful of Kiwi names. 'Hanmer Springs', indeed. Swimming would be especially good for you right now. - We''ll use the Nessik in your wash-house, if that's OK,” he said, looking at Jillian.

         They began making their way towards the hallway.

         “One thing we forgot to add,” Jillian said. “If you're curious to know more about the Atlantis simulation, it's all there as a special Teklanmeh entry, just for you two. Though, knowing you as well we like to think, you'll probably be more interested in looking forward rather than back.”

         “No need to show us out,” Eric said as Estelle began to follow them. “Now, you two get started on that walk. The sooner the better. Don't, whatever you do, go back to bed.”

         Their gentle laughter followed them out the door.

         Barkworth and Estelle looked at each other.

         “Guess we've just been told,” she smiled at him. “Come on, Hanmer Springs sounds good right now. We just go out the front door, turn directly right, and keep walking. Don't bother getting dressed, there's nobody else here.”

         “Yet,” he looked at her as they headed for the door.

         The sun, his quick glance up at it showed him, looked just like the real thing. Its warming rays certainly felt the same.

         And the birds, all sorts of birds, from tuis and wekas to ordinary hens and sparrows, made their presence known. The only birds on the Aotea – the original at least - had been flightless and caged for food.

         “I'm not sure I am going to like Paradise very much,” Estelle said as they walked along.

         “You'd have to be terminally stupid to like it,” Barkworth laughed. “As Carol said. And you're far from stupid. It's certainly different from Atlantis. Remember those ghastly stomachs, especially that second one with - “ 

        “I certainly do,” she said with vehement disgust. "Who were those poor souls, do you think? They were of all ages. I can't think of a reason..."

        "It's certainly beyond me, I have to say. Adults who might have been criminals, or elderly deceased I can sort of understand. But children?"

        "I guess all we can do is look it up in that special section of the Teklanmeh that Eric mentioned, along with so much else." 

        “Well, I can assure you that you won't have to see sights like that in Paradise. Though many would say that they do exist, they are just more carefully hidden away. There are numerous ways of dying in Paradise, and nobody knows what happens to the resulting corpses. One can choose to die as I nearly did when I went to that Terminal World which in the end put me on the Aotea. The criminal justice system ends your life here if you commit enough crime to put you in Holliswald three times, and it doesn't take much of a crime to put you there.” He wasn't going to describe what happened to those deemed mentally ill. 

        “That's horrible,” Estelle breathed.

         “That's because you've never been a crime victim,” he replied. “Believe me, it can be a thoroughly nasty experience. The only good thing about it is that it's extremely rare, which is why many of us tolerate the Cahoctor, which is the division of the Iskurahi that administers these things. - Also, remember that farm gallery with all those pigs running around? Nobody knows where all the food in Paradise comes from. Best guess is it comes from factories that sit in interstellar space somewhere. But each World and all the cultures within it get the kind of food they are accustomed to, which suggests the Iskurahi have intensive farms of their own somewhere for each World – unless they grow it artificially. The point I'm making here is that it's all out of sight, and nobody has to lift a finger to make it all work. It's all done by machines, and has been for over twelve billenia.”

        “Cahoctor, Iskurahi, billenia... You mentioned the Torsyne once, so much to learn...” she said.

         “We've plenty of time,” he smiled at her, “and there's so much to see Out There,” he pointed up in time-honored fashion. “And now, come to think of it, Eric and Gillian mentioned something about a chamber beneath your deck here,” he jumped up and down on it; there was no hollow thud as he half expected, just hard dirt so far as he could tell. “You mentioned those `biologically spurious acts that contravened Torsyne directives' back on the Aotea. Is that where they were carried out?  Did Carol and her friends know about it?”

         “They had to know eventually, of course,” she replied levelly. “They weren't comfortable about it, but they learned to accept it as an unavoidable part of their lives.”

         “Which pretty much sums up what you'll need to do here in Paradise,” he suddenly spotted an opportunity. “In fact, its probably just as well we're discussing these matters now, since we can do the same thing – put them all behind us and get on with finding what's good about Paradise, and believe me, there's a lot. Most people who come into it after their World Contacts – and that's a whole other story in itself – find it a blessing compared to what they left behind. Like being able to forget about money and having to work for it. So they could eat, bring up their kids, rent or buy the house they lived in. Politics, which in most parts of any world, can be relentless cloak-and-dagger affairs which lead to the most appalling repression and, often, wholesale murder. The organized idiocy of most religions can inflict the most appalling repressions and suppressions of their own. Paradise can be a bit boring, but compared to all that, well, I for one am glad to be here. - And here,” he looked around as he finally noticed that sporadic trees and open fields had given way to forest just as he had seen from the veranda. “As I said before, I could stay here for ever. With you, if you want me to.”

         She put her hand out to him.

         He realized they weren't far away from the ship's boundary and wondered what form it would take.

        The stream, when they eventually arrived at it was a good several meters wide  and much shallower on its nearer bank than its opposite one. And that bank was a virtual cliff, so far as he could see through the heavy overhanging ferns and other damp-looking broad-leaf vegetation. It certainly looked unclimbable and probably was. 

        He didn't feel the slightest bit tired as they turned to walk a little way along the stream bank until, after negotiating their way round a large angular rock, 'Hanmer Springs' finally appeared in front of them.

        The stream fell into the pool down a small waterfall, yet Barkworth could see steam coming off the waters. Some form of hot springs obviously lay under them.

         He hauled off his pajamas as Estelle quickly discarded her nightie. It didn't even occur to him to look at her as they settled down into the water, a short distance apart.

        He discovered to his delight that the water was full of deliciously fizzy little bubbles.

 
        Like so many other middle-aged couples in so many eras before them, they could now only just wait and hope.