Feeling like an intruder, Norma Cenva stood in her mother’s study, overlooking the canopied purple trees. A sour, misty rain fell outside; some of the droplets from the high skies contained impurities and poisonous chemicals from spewing volcanic fumes in the distance. On the far horizon, she monitored dark clouds as they drew closer. Soon there would be a downpour.

What did Aurelius Venport want her to find in here?

Her stern mother maintained an austere room with chalky-white interior walls. An alcove contained the Sorceress’s fine clothes, articles that were much too large and fanciful for Norma to wear. Zufa Cenva had an intimidating beauty, a luminous purity that made her as perfect— and as hard— as a classic sculpture. Even without telepathic powers, she could draw men like ants to honey.

But the chief Sorceress had only a superficial loveliness, concealing an implacability about subjects she never permitted Norma to see. It wasn’t that Zufa didn’t trust her daughter; she simply considered the girl beneath grand concerns. Like her telepathic companions, Zufa seemed to thrive on secrecy.

But Aurelius had seen something here. “You won’t be sorry if you find it, Norma,” he had told her, smiling. “I trust your mother to tell you about it eventually . . . but I don’t believe it is high in her priorities.”

I have never been high in her priorities. Curious, but wary of being caught, Norma continued to investigate.

Her gaze settled on a fibersheet notebook resting on a worktable. The thick book had a maroon cover with indecipherable lettering as arcane as the mathematical notations Norma had developed. Once, eavesdropping on the Sorceresses and their intricate plans, Norma heard them refer to their private language as “Azhar.”

Since returning from Salusa Secundus, her mother had been even more detached and aloof than usual. She seemed driven to attempt greater things, because of the cymek attack. When Norma inquired about the war effort, Zufa had merely frowned at her. “We will take care of it.”

The chief Sorceress spent much of her time sequestered with a cabalistic clique of women, whispering secret things. Zufa had a fresh passion, a new idea to use against the thinking machines. If her mother had dreamed of any way Norma could contribute, she would have pressed the dwarf girl into service. Instead, Zufa had entirely written off her daughter without giving her a chance.

The most talented women, numbering around three hundred, had established a security zone in the deep fungoid jungle, cutting off the pharmaceutical scavengers hired by Aurelius Venport. Any explorer who ventured into the secluded area encountered strange shimmering barricades.

Ever alert, Norma had noticed unexplained explosions and fires out where Zufa’s hand-picked Sorceresses spent weeks of intensive training. Her mother rarely came back to her cliffside chambers. . . .

Now, in her mother’s room, Norma discovered two pieces of fine white paper beneath the maroon notebook: the bleached parchment often used by League couriers. This must be what Aurelius had wanted her to find.

Dragging a stepstool to the table, she climbed up. She could see the heading on the top sheet of parchment— a formal document from Poritrin. Curious, afraid her mother might return from the jungles, she removed the pages and was astonished to read in black chancery lettering, SAVANT TIO HOLTZMAN.

For what possible purpose had the great inventor written a letter to her mother? Leaning down, the girl read the salutation line: “Dear Norma Cenva.” With a scowl, she scanned the message, then reread it with mounting delight mixed with anger. Tio Holtzman wants me to apprentice with him on Poritrin! He thinks I am brilliant? I can’t believe it.

Her own mother had attempted to conceal, or at least delay, the transmittal! Zufa had said nothing, possibly unable to believe the Savant would want anything to do with her daughter. Luckily, Aurelius had told her about it.

Norma hurried off to the business district of the cliffside settlement. She found Venport in a tea shop, concluding a meeting with a seedy-looking trader. As the dark-skinned man rose from his seat, Norma hurried over with her off-kilter gait and slid into his place at the table.

Venport smiled warmly at her. “You look excited, Norma. You must have found the letter from Savant Holtzman?”

She thrust the parchment forward. “My mother tried to prevent me from seeing his offer!”

“Zufa is a maddening woman, I know, but you must try to understand her. Since neither of us can do the things she values most, Zufa disregards our abilities. Oh, she’s aware of your mathematical talents, Norma, and she knows I’m a competent businessman, but our skills do not count for anything with her.”

Norma squirmed on the seat, not wanting to give her mother the benefit of the doubt. “Then why did she hide this letter?”

Venport laughed. “She was probably embarrassed by the attention you received.” He squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry, I will intervene if your mother attempts to block this. In fact, since she’s so preoccupied with the other Sorceresses, I can’t see how she would object if I were to complete the necessary paperwork for you.”

“You would do that? Doesn’t my mother—”

“Let me take care of everything. I’ll handle her.” He gave Norma a quick, warm hug. “I believe in what you can do.”

Acting in Zufa’s stead, Aurelius Venport dispatched a formal letter of response to the famous inventor, agreeing to send Norma away. The young woman would study with him on Poritrin and assist him in his laboratories. For Norma, it was the opportunity of a lifetime.

Her mother might not even notice she was gone.