## Chapter 405 — Current Plan

The Common letter had left no mark on the dining table.

Thomas checked anyway. The habit was older than Ian: when something happened that neither of them understood, he looked at what remained afterward. This time there was only the table, two mugs, the Mars ticket and the note they had added to their record.

**15 March 2028 — physical Common letter addressed to Kelda disappeared from dining table after Ian said he would take it. No System interface or physical effect observed.**

Isha read the line over his shoulder and left it alone.

They had done what they could from this side. Kelda had the letter, assuming Ian had done what he said. After that came people Thomas and Isha loved making decisions in rooms they could not see.

Thomas disliked waiting. He was getting better at recognising when dislike was not an instruction.

They cleared the table. The Mars ticket went back beside the correspondence box rather than somewhere ceremonial. Thomas washed the mugs. Isha dried them. Neither tried to guess how long Kelda's answer might take in a chronology that had already refused useful comparison.

Later, Isha's phone vibrated with a private message.

> I've been, I have a reply from Kelda and a draft plan.. can I make them appear for you? And make some chocolate brownies like your friends and family had?

Isha read it twice and turned the phone towards Thomas.

He stopped at *your friends and family had*.

"They met. And Kelda wrote."

Isha nodded. "Yes."

They sat together. The brownies were so far down the hierarchy of information that their presence in the message became funny.

"He is learning presentation badly," Isha said.

Thomas glanced at the message again. "Because he put chocolate after my family?"

"Because he thinks chocolate makes the first part easier."

"It may," Thomas said, smiling faintly.

"That does not make it good procedure."

Ian had asked before making anything appear. Isha typed slowly enough for Thomas to read beside her.

> Yes. Make Kelda's reply and the current draft plan appear on the dining table.
>
> Brownies too. On a plate.
>
> Do not change the papers after they arrive unless we ask.

Thomas nodded. Isha sent it.

The table changed.

Kelda's letter appeared where the wood had been empty. Beside it lay another page headed **CURRENT PLAN** in Common. A plate of brownies followed, cut into small squares.

Thomas stared at the three arrivals.

"The brownies make the documents look less official."

"Good."

He moved the plate farther from the papers before chocolate became an archival issue. Isha recognised Kelda's handwriting before she unfolded the first sheet.

The letter was not crowded. Kelda's monthly pages had trained both of them to expect space to be fought over; this sheet had room because it had not needed to fit through Thomas's one-page passage.

Isha began reading aloud.

> Thomas. Isha.
>
> Ian came to me with your letter. I read it more than once.
>
> I told him my answer was still yes.
>
> We went to Thomas's family first. All four of them were told the new information about how Ian experiences our world. They each chose yes again.
>
> Rowan asked to inspect the meeting place before the reunion. Ian let him choose the door himself. Mira, Mara and Tessa later crossed too. They are still here by their own choice and can return through their farmhouse door whenever they want.

Thomas closed his eyes for a moment.

"All four," he said.

Isha waited beside him.

He opened his eyes and looked again at Rowan's name. "My dad asked to inspect it."

Isha's mouth moved. "Of course."

Thomas gave her a sideways look and conceded the point. The image formed easily: Rowan checking the route home, the way the room worked, whether leaving depended on Ian's permission. Thomas rubbed his thumb over his wedding ring.

"They went."

"Your whole family."

Isha continued after a while.

> I then went with Ian to the Wood Elves.
>
> Aelira, Sereth and Lethira have now been told the same correction. Sereth chose to come here, spoke with Mira, and returned through her own door safely with what she carried and what she remembered unchanged as far as we can test. She has gone to speak to Ruvan.

Isha stopped breathing for a beat.

Thomas turned towards her. "Your mother went. She met Mum."

Isha looked down at Kelda's handwriting. "Yes."

They had never seen their mothers in the same room. The possibility had existed inside the invitation in an abstract way—family and friends, neutral ground, individual choice. Kelda had reduced it to a fact that had already happened while Thomas and Isha were in Sendai washing mugs.

Isha pressed her lips together.

"What did they say?"

Thomas looked at the page. "Kelda doesn't tell us."

"No."

The frustration came and went. Kelda had not turned a conversation belonging to two other women into correspondence merely because Thomas and Isha desperately wanted to know it.

Isha understood why. She still wanted to know.

She read on.

> Aelira has now said yes for herself. Lethira wants to come. Ruvan still decides for himself.
>
> The attached page is the current shape we agreed. It is not an itinerary and it is not a promise made for you.
>
> Sereth and Thomas's family discussed the first meetings themselves. Sereth keeps the private beginning she asked for. Thomas's family discovered they want one too and chose to follow hers. After that, the rest of us can work out what we actually want instead of making the largest possible room merely because Ian can.
>
> Nobody has met you yet.
>
> Nobody here is asking you to hurry.
>
> Ian has been trying.
>
> He is still Ian.
>
> Those statements are both useful.
>
> Kelda

Thomas laughed quietly at the final three lines.

"Definitely Kelda."

"Yes."

Isha folded the letter only along the crease it had arrived with. Neither of them reached for the plan immediately. The brownies sat at the far end of the table, smelling darkly of chocolate.

Eventually she drew the second page towards them.

The shape was simple. Sereth would meet Isha and Thomas first, privately, retaining the beginning she had originally requested. There was no fixed duration. When that first reunion had settled, Sereth would ask whether Thomas and Isha were ready for Thomas's family.

Thomas touched that line.

"Ask us."

Isha nodded. That was the part she wanted kept exactly as written.

Then Mira, Rowan, Mara and Tessa would have their own private beginning with Thomas and Isha. Afterward Kelda, Aelira, Lethira and anyone else who chose to attend could join in smaller conversations or a larger gathering. The larger gathering was optional. Ruvan remained undecided. Aelira had given her own yes after seeing Sereth cross and return.

The plan ended with a sentence that mattered more than its administrative tone suggested.

**This is the current plan, not a fixed itinerary. Thomas and Isha may change any part concerning their own participation. Anyone else may change their own answer or conditions.**

Thomas sat back.

"This is real."

His gaze stayed on the names. For years, the fantasy world had been compressed into memory, monthly paper and then a growing collection of impossible exceptions. Even after the invitation went out, the reunion had remained a proposal dependent on decisions they could not witness.

Now there was an order. Not a fixed one. Enough of one to picture the next door opening.

Sereth first; then Mira, Rowan, Mara and Tessa. Afterward Kelda, Aelira, Lethira and perhaps Ruvan.

Thomas's hand closed around Isha's.

"I don't know if I can do this calmly."

"I do not think calm is required."

He laughed under his breath. "That sounds familiar."

"It should."

Isha touched Kelda's line: *Nobody here is asking you to hurry.*

"We do not have to answer now."

Thomas looked towards the brownies. "They're literally sitting there."

"The people, not the brownies," Isha said.

"Somewhere."

"Perhaps."

He shook his head at himself. The word helped.

They ate one brownie between them before answering. The centre was dense and soft, richer than anything either would normally choose on a Wednesday night. Halfway through hers, Isha considered that Sereth might already have eaten the same thing.

"Good," she said.

Thomas nodded emphatically through his own bite.

Isha opened the private thread.

> We received Kelda's letter and the current plan. We agree with the shape as written so far.
>
> Sereth first, with both of us. Thomas's family second, privately. After that we decide with everyone else what we still want and have energy for.
>
> Ruvan still decides for himself.
>
> Thank you for asking before making the papers and brownies appear.
>
> The brownies are good.
>
> Before anything begins, are they still at the café now?

Ian answered before Thomas finished the other half.

> I don't know, they may have left or they may still be there. I wasn't expecting you to go immediately, but it's easy to check. But there are a couple of things I have to say beforehand -- do you want me to go check first and see if they are ready? Or ... ?

The uncertainty restored distance Thomas had begun collapsing in his head. His family might already have gone home. That was fine. More than fine.

"If Mum has decided she's had enough impossible café for one day and gone back to feed something, I don't want Ian fetching her because I took twenty minutes to answer."

Isha's mouth curved. "Your father may be repairing something."

"Almost certainly."

"And Tessa?"

Thomas thought. "Still eating brownies."

The more important part was that Ian had not expected them to go immediately. Thomas had started reacting to a waiting room no one had actually required.

They answered together.

> Don't check yet. If they have left, let them be home until we actually need them.
>
> We weren't asking because we're ready to go through the door this minute. We wanted to understand where things stood.
>
> Tell us the couple of things first.

The reply came in three pieces.

> I don't want to be there at the meeting. I can come later, but only if you and they want it, maybe after Aelira joins. Isha, I will give you the power to adjust the world in only practical ways -- if some privacy is needed you can make a room appear, or similar, nothing that will ruin things.

Isha read the first paragraph twice.

"He doesn't want to be there," Thomas said.

"No."

"That matches the plan."

It did. Ian had left himself outside both private beginnings before Thomas and Isha ever saw the page.

The rest bothered Isha more. She touched *I will give you the power*.

"He did not ask."

Thomas saw it. "He may mean offer."

"He said give."

The proposed use itself was sensible: a room when privacy was needed, a door moved, chairs, light. Practical alterations in service of choices already made. Isha could imagine wanting exactly that. She did not want to discover in the middle of seeing her mother for the first time in years that Ian had quietly made her capable of rewriting the place around them.

Before she answered, the second message arrived.

> I may have introduced Lethira to Anime, this is a state secret as Aelira doesn't know, but it's so cool and funny I had to tell someone. She loves it.

Thomas stared at the screen.

"Anime. Lethira."

Isha nodded once. "Apparently."

He sat back. "What did he give her? A series?"

"He did not say."

Thomas's expression changed as the larger possibility occurred to him. "Oh no."

That was enough to make Isha laugh. Lethira secretly acquiring Earth animation while Aelira remained unaware was so perfectly shaped for Lethira that the idea was difficult to resist.

The wording was less harmless. *I had to tell someone.*

Isha's smile faded.

"Did Lethira tell him he could?"

Thomas reread it. "We don't know."

The third message arrived.

> That is all #pleased

Thomas looked at the final word.

"What does the hash mean?"

"I think he is pleased."

Thomas gave her a dry look. "I had inferred that."

Isha picked up the phone. She answered the reunion first.

> Staying out of the first meetings is right. If we want you later, we will ask, and the others can decide for themselves whether they want you there too.
>
> Do not give me the reality-control ability yet.
>
> I may want the practical version during the reunion. If I accept it, I want it temporary and limited to the meeting place: rooms, doors, furniture, light, privacy between spaces, things like that. Nothing involving people, bodies, minds, memories, emotions, time, or changing anyone's choices. No permanent changes unless we separately ask.
>
> And I want to know I have it before it happens.

Thomas read the limits and nodded.

Then Isha returned to the anime confession.

> Lethira loving anime is funny.
>
> Calling it a state secret and then telling me because you had to tell someone is less funny.
>
> If Lethira told you that you could tell me, fine. If she did not, then that was hers to keep secret, even from me.
>
> Also, I want to know what you gave her. But answer the permission question first.

"That is cruel," Thomas said.

"It is ordered."

"Extremely ordered."

She sent it.

Ian corrected the first misunderstanding before answering the second.

> I wouldn't give you limited omnipotence casually. It will be only during the reunion, only in that place, and bound by am immutable rule of non-reunion-ruining. I am happy to not give it. It was an offer not a statement.....

Isha read the last sentence again.

Thomas read the last sentence over her shoulder.

"Offer," he said.

Isha nodded. "I misunderstood that part."

The clarification resolved the immediate problem. She still disliked the phrase *limited omnipotence*, and an immutable rule of *non-reunion-ruining* depended on a machine deciding what ruin meant, but the specific limits could remain primary.

She wrote back:

> All right. I misunderstood you. Offer understood.
>
> I don't want it turned on in advance. Keep it available as an offer. If we reach the meeting and I decide the practical control would help, I can accept it then with the limits we discussed.
>
> And your immutable non-reunion-ruining rule may remain as an additional rule. It does not replace the specific limits.

Thomas smiled. "You kept his rule."

"It can have company."

After sending, she returned to the unanswered question.

> Now the other question.
>
> Did Lethira give you permission to tell me about the anime?

Ian's answer was characteristically broader than the question.

> It was my ask of her to not tell Aelira, i don't need to maintain a contracts management database of specific confidentiality clauses. If you prefer to just message me to alter the meeting place that might be better. Anyway, I think that is all ready now. How/when do you want to do it? I can act as letter-sender outside of the System to arrange it. Time passes broadly consistently between the two worlds.

Thomas reached *contracts management database* and looked at Isha.

"I work in administration and even I think that was defensive."

Isha's mouth moved. "Very."

The answer did settle the immediate question. Lethira had not entrusted Ian with a confidence and asked him to keep it. Ian had asked her to keep the tablet hidden from Aelira. Isha did not need a confidentiality register either.

She sent a short correction.

> Fine. I understand. I was checking whether Lethira had asked you to keep it private. She did not.

The rest of his message changed the room.

*How/when do you want to do it?*

Thomas sat back. The current plan lay in front of him, calm on paper.

"Not tonight," he said. When Isha looked at him, he added, "I want to. That's why not tonight."

She understood. The evening had already contained Kelda's letter, confirmation that both families had crossed into the café, the first actual arrangement for meeting them, and the knowledge that Sereth had sat across a table from Mira. If Ian opened the road now, Thomas would go through it. So would Isha.

Wanting that badly was a poor reason to decide at the end of an ordinary Wednesday when both of them had work, sleep and several years of emotion waiting behind the same door.

They opened their calendars.

Sunday the nineteenth was free. Isha rejected the morning almost at once.

"Afternoon."

Thomas nodded. "Enough time before. Enough time after."

They did not pretend to know how long the reunion would take. Sereth's first minutes might become half an hour. His family might need longer. Someone might discover five minutes was all they could manage. The optional larger meeting could happen or disappear.

A free afternoon did not solve those uncertainties. It gave them somewhere decent to put them.

Ian's final sentence remained a claim rather than a clock rule. *Time passes broadly consistently between the two worlds.* Thomas and Isha had too much evidence against ratio-making to turn that into arithmetic. It was useful only insofar as Ian could carry a proposed Earth date and return with an answer from the local day there.

There was another person to ask.

"Kanno," Thomas said.

"Yes."

Not for either family beginning. Later, if the day still had room. Kanno had already said she might want to meet Lethira, Kelda and Aelira after the reunion began, but she had not agreed to have a Sunday selected around her.

"We ask her separately," Isha said.

"If she can't come Sunday?"

"Then she meets them another time."

That answer made the reunion smaller in the right way.

Isha wrote to Ian.

> We don't want to do it tonight.
>
> Sunday 19 March works for both of us. We would prefer early afternoon here, but do not convert that into a fixed time there by calculation. Ask them what part of their local day works and bring the answer back.
>
> We will ask Kanno separately whether she wants to join any later part on Sunday. Do not arrange around her until she answers us. If she cannot or does not want to, that does not delay the family reunions.
>
> Keep the temporary meeting-place-control offer available. Do not activate it beforehand. If I accept it at the meeting, use the narrow limits already discussed. That is better than making you part of the meeting whenever somebody needs a room moved.

She paused, then sent a final message.

> Please take Sunday 19 March to Kelda and the others as our proposed day. Tell them the current plan still stands from our side. Ask what local time works for Sereth and Thomas's family, and ask whether Ruvan has decided.
>
> Do not gather everyone yet. Bring their answer back to us first.

The next reply was almost cheerful.

> I was going to will into existence some little invite cards, if that's in poor taste, I can just send a written note from you to Kelda, she is with the Elves & can travel to your family

Thomas considered the cards sincerely before shaking his head.

"I don't want invitations."

"Neither do I," Isha said.

They had already invited everyone once through the passage, and everyone had answered separately. Another round of formal cards would make the reunion resemble an event with hosts and guests.

"A note," Isha said. "From us."

They used a fresh sheet of the Common paper kept with the correspondence materials. There was no one-page System limit this time, so neither of them compressed what mattered simply to save room.

Isha wrote the opening.

> Kelda, and everyone with you,
>
> We received your letter and the current plan.
>
> Thank you.
>
> The shape is right for us.
>
> We would like Sereth to have the first private meeting she asked for, with both of us. When the three of us are ready, she can ask whether we are ready for Mira, Rowan, Mara and Tessa.
>
> We would then like our first meeting with Thomas's family to be private too.
>
> After that, we want to decide with Kelda, Aelira, Lethira and anyone else who chooses to come what happens next. A larger gathering may be good. Smaller conversations may be better. We do not know yet.

She handed Thomas the pen.

He added:

> Ruvan: we understand that Sereth has now travelled there and returned freely. Your answer is still yours. We would like to see you if you decide yes. If your answer is no, or not yet, we will respect it.
>
> We propose Sunday, 19 March by our Earth calendar. Early afternoon here would suit us, but Ian should not convert that into an assumed local hour for you. Please choose a part of your day that works for the people involved and send the answer back through him.
>
> Nobody needs to wait in the café until then. Please go home, work, sleep, eat and do whatever you would otherwise do. We are not asking anyone to spend days waiting for us in an impossible garden.

Isha took the pen back.

> We are excited.
>
> We are also frightened and likely to be overwhelmed.
>
> Neither means we want to cancel.
>
> Please do not make the day solemn on our behalf.
>
> We want to see you.
>
> We will come when the day and local time are agreed.
>
> Love,
>
> Isha and Thomas

They sat with the page after the ink dried.

"Do we tell them about Kanno?" Thomas asked.

"Not until we ask Kanno."

That belonged to Earth and could stay there for the night.

Isha photographed the note for their own record, then messaged Ian.

> No invite cards. They would make it feel more formal than we want.
>
> The note is written. You can take the physical page from the dining table, the same way you took the letter to Kelda before. Please take it exactly as written. Do not alter it or add anything to it.

The page disappeared.

Thomas had been watching it this time. There was still nothing useful to see. One moment their handwriting lay on the table; the next there was bare wood.

Ian messaged almost at once.

> I'm going to let Kelda's reply instantly appear, when she's written it.

Then:

> I will reserve invite cards till next year's reunion

Isha typed immediately.

> Do not schedule next year's reunion.

Thomas glanced at her.

"Strong."

"Necessary."

The joke did one useful thing. Sunday stopped feeling quite so much like a day on which several years of separation were required to resolve successfully.

Kelda's reply did not appear at once.

Thomas wrapped the remaining brownies and found space for them in the refrigerator. Isha moved Kelda's first letter and the current plan into clear sleeves. They attempted to make more tea. The knowledge that another sheet would appear the moment Kelda finished writing made the table difficult not to watch.

The kettle had only begun heating when paper made a soft contact sound behind them.

Both turned.

Kelda's handwriting covered most of a fresh sheet. Isha switched off the kettle.

"Letter first," she said.

Thomas followed her back to the table. They read it together.

> Thomas. Isha.
>
> We received your note.
>
> Sunday is acceptable here. We are not trying to calculate your clock against ours. Ian can tell us when your early afternoon is approaching and we will have people ready during a sensible part of our own day.
>
> Nobody needs to wait in the café. Mira, Rowan, Mara and Tessa have gone home. They agree to return on the day. They still want the private meeting in the shape we discussed.
>
> Sereth agrees. Her answer remains yes. She still wants the first meeting with both of you.
>
> Ruvan has answered again.
>
> His answer is now yes.
>
> Sereth going through the road because she wanted to, then returning herself with her body, memory and belongings unchanged as far as we can test, answered the question he had asked.
>
> He still wants the return route available at all times. He does not want his body, memory or belongings altered. He wants to know before crossing if the local passage of time will behave in any unexpected way. He does not want to join either of the first family meetings.
>
> After those, he will come.
>
> Aelira's yes remains yes. She also intends to come after the first meetings.
>
> Lethira says yes and has made several comments which I am not writing down.
>
> My answer remains yes.
>
> We will arrange ourselves here. You do not need to organise our travel from Earth.
>
> The current plan is still the current plan. If anyone changes their mind before Sunday, we will tell you.
>
> Your warning about not making the day solemn has been received.
>
> I make no promises about Sereth.
>
> Kelda

Thomas had stopped at one line.

"Ruvan," he said. "He said yes."

Isha lowered the page slightly.

Ruvan's original refusal had never been rejection of either of them. He had refused to be first through an unknown road. He had asked for evidence produced by somebody who genuinely wanted to travel and came home under their own power.

Sereth had given him that without travelling for his sake.

Now he had answered.

Thomas breathed out.

"Everyone."

Isha looked down the list before correcting the scope. "Everyone we asked who chose yes."

He nodded. There were people outside this circle who had never been invited, and others whose place in Thomas and Isha's history did not create automatic inclusion. The meeting did not become a reunion with an entire world merely because Ian could construct a room large enough.

But the people they had asked were coming.

Thomas sat. For a moment the expression on his face belonged to a younger part of him—not seventeen, nothing so clean, only the part which had trained itself not to imagine a road home too vividly because imagination had once offered no route by which it could become real.

Now the problem was Sunday. Isha sat beside him.

"Sunday," she said.

His laugh was small and unsteady. "Sunday."

They updated their own copy of the plan beneath Ruvan's name:

**Ruvan — yes. Conditions unchanged. Joins after private meetings.**

Then Isha sleeved Kelda's reply.

Thomas touched it before she put it away.

"They went home."

"Yes."

He smiled. "I like that."

So did she. His family were not sitting in Ian's café for four days waiting for their dead son to arrive. They had gone back to the farm. Sereth had gone home. Kelda would have work. Aelira would have responsibilities. Lethira apparently had comments Kelda refused to archive. Ruvan had made his decision and could spend the intervening days being Ruvan.

Sunday would find them from lives already in progress.

Ian's final message of the evening arrived while Kelda's reply was still open.

> I'm glad it's going ahead. Speak/message on your Sunday

Isha showed Thomas.

He smiled faintly. "No additional instructions. No doorway. No dessert."

Isha glanced towards the refrigerator. "No."

Thomas handed the phone back. "Good."

She answered only:

> Sunday.

Nothing followed.

The absence was useful.

---

Thursday morning became Thursday with unreasonable competence.

Thomas went to the university. Isha went to work. Nobody around them knew that her mother had crossed an impossible doorway the previous evening, met Thomas's mother over tea and gone home to consult her uncle about whether he too wished to travel between realities.

At lunch, Isha messaged Kanno.

> We have a proposed reunion day now. Sunday afternoon.
>
> The first parts will be family only: my mother first, then Thomas's family. Kelda, Aelira, Lethira and Ruvan would come afterward if everyone still wants the larger part.
>
> You said before that you might want to meet them after the family reunion rather than at the beginning.
>
> Do you still want that? We can message you when the later part is actually happening. Nobody will wait on you and we won't build the schedule around you.

Kanno replied during Isha's break.

> Yes.
>
> Message me when the family parts are finished and you know you still want other people.
>
> If by then you want to stop, stop. Do not continue because I am expecting to meet anyone.
>
> Also please tell Lethira nothing about me in advance beyond what she already knows. I would like one relationship in this situation to begin without a briefing document.

Isha read the last line twice and sent it to Thomas.

His answer came several minutes later.

> That seems reasonable.
>
> Although I am concerned Lethira may have already received several years of briefing through us.

Isha replied:

> Different problem.

Kanno added before either of them closed the thread:

> Correct.

That settled Sunday as far as Kanno was concerned. She would not sit waiting in the café. She would be in Sendai, having her own Sunday, and Thomas or Isha could contact her later if the day still had room for another person.

Friday passed with less attention paid to Sunday than Thomas expected.

Saturday did too, mostly.

Thomas went to archery. Isha trained. They bought groceries, did laundry and spent part of the evening debating whether Sunday's lunch should happen before the reunion or whether eating beforehand would make them both feel ill.

They chose lunch.

The decision took longer than the meeting order had.

By Saturday night the current plan no longer sat on the dining table. Isha had put it with Kelda's letters after both of them admitted they knew what it said.

Sereth first.

Thomas's family second.

Afterward, whoever they still wanted and had energy to see.

Ian absent unless invited.

Kanno available later.

Ruvan yes.

Anyone could still change their mind.

Thomas stopped in front of the flexible-room door before bed.

It was only a door.

He put his hand on the handle anyway.

Isha, passing behind him, stopped.

"Tomorrow."

Thomas released it.

"Yes."

They went to bed.