Free The Others 03 Vision in Silver by Anne Bishop Page A

it’s because of the training or simply how their brains work, but we think that, because they absorb
everything
around them, blood prophets suffer from information overload much faster than other people, and they zone out in order to give their minds a rest,” Merri Lee said.
    Meg could tell by the way Simon’s ears had gotten a little furry and more Wolf shaped that he was listening hard to everything they were saying, but she wasn’t sure if he understood what they were saying.
    “When pups are young, they have to absorb everything too in order to learn about the world,” he said. “Their constant things are the den and the pack.”
    “What happens when their little brains get tired?” Merri Lee asked.
    Simon narrowed his eyes at Meg. “They curl up and take a nap.”
    Meg narrowed her eyes right back at him. He didn’t look impressed. “Well, humans aren’t built to take these quick little snoozes throughout the day.”
    His only comment was a huffed
tch
sound that told all of them what he thought of
that
human failing.
    “The point,” Ruth said, “is we tried to determine what makes up a constant and what makes something acceptable even when it changes.”
    Merri Lee pointed to the photos again. “For example, a vase could have flowers or not have flowers. A vase with flowers was
different
, but it didn’t cause anxiety. The gate to Henry’s yard could be open or closed. There could be food inthe fridge here or not. But Meg
chose
where she put the CDs, and if someone changes the placement, that
does
cause Meg to feel upset.”
    “From what she told us, most days that would equal feeling a
little
upset,” Ruth continued. “But a little distress on top of a little distress on top of a barrage of new images might push a blood prophet to cut herself in order to relieve the emotional pressure of feeling overwhelmed.”
    Simon stared at Meg and growled. “Things are
always
changing in the Courtyard.”
    “Yes,” she said, hoping she could make him understand. Hoping he would keep his promise to let her have a life—even if having one killed her. “Every day when I make my deliveries, the Courtyard looks different. But it’s a
good
different, a natural different.”
    “And Meg sees it as an active image,” Merri Lee said. “We think that’s part of it. By driving through the Courtyard—or walking or riding as a passenger—Meg is an active participant in a moving, changeable image. The land changes with the seasons. . . .”
    “But my apartment doesn’t change,” Meg finished. “The furniture stays in the same place unless I move something.”
    Simon started to scratch behind one ear. Then his face colored as he realized his ears were Wolfy. Not meeting their eyes, he shifted his ears back to human shape.
    “There’s not a lot of stuff in your apartment,” he said. “Not much furniture. We don’t need much. . . .” He trailed off.
    “Neither do I,” Meg said. “Neither do the other girls.”
    “So . . . more Simple Life than Crow’s hoard?”
    She hadn’t seen either of those things, but only one sounded soothing. “If Simple Life is more like our apartments, then, yes, like that.”
    “The immediate problem is the girls living on Great Island, right?” Merri Lee asked.
    Simon hesitated, then nodded, leaving Meg to wonder who else needed help.
    “Whoever is looking after the girls should clear their rooms of extraneous visuals—pictures on the walls, figurines on the tables, things like that,” Ruth said. “They can take photos of all those things and make up a binder of images. Maybe allow each girl to look at the images and select a handful of items she would want in her room, then allow her to position them. But once shehas ‘set’ her room, the girl’s room
cannot change
unless
she
is the one making the change.”
    “Also, take a photo of each room as reference for the adults so they don’t inadvertently change something,” Merri Lee said. “Even a small