Plop!

Sliding uncontrollably toward the wider hole ahead, it scanned as being just larger than my little ringlet. Just as the edge approached, the entire ringlet spun and up-ended to slide neatly into the hole. As the first of the Sixes entered, and the elevated Six trailed, the pulse of the atoms that began to surround the ringlet changed in a downward direction.

The pulse patterns ushered my ringlet through the fabric of atoms and into a voluminous cavity that was completely filled with a One-Eight-One soup. Now that the ringlet is free of patterns above, I am able to make small steering adjustments by altering the spin of the outer electrons on the outboard Ones of the ringlet. While the directional control of the ringlet is nothing compared to what I can do in a field of Forty-Sevens, it is better than no control at all.

Banking and turning, crossing the flows that are prevalent in this soup, I can almost imagine that I am flying freely, if it weren't for the occasional thump and bump as a One-Eight-One turns in just the wrong direction for the elevated Six to slip past. Lucky for me that Sixes are fairly easy to keep hold of, otherwise I would probably get bounced off and have to hooked up with a naked One.