Free A Door Into Ocean by Joan Slonczewski

herself be led up the ramp until she fanned her toes across the doorsill.
    Spinel picked up his bags and started on up, but for an instant he lost sight of everything except the dizzying fact that Valedon, his whole source of existence, was about to slip away from him. In panic he whirled and stared backward, outward, as if he could scan the entire planet with a glance and swallow it with his eyes. But all he could see
was the windswept space landing, with ships planted here and there like tree stumps, and pavement crisscrossed by wandering strangers.
    â€œThis Door is not ours, either,” Merwen told him, “but it’s the only way back home.”
    That’s fine for her, Spinel thought as the ship door closed behind him. There is no way home for me.

Part II
    A DOOR INTO OCEAN
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1
    SPINEL STOOD WITH the captain in the darkened viewport, lost amid the throng of stars. Shora was now a immense globe of ocean, patched with clouds. He reached out to it until his hand met the in-curving dome. And Shora seemed to reach back to him, as it swelled ever larger.
    Dak said, “See those greenish specks down there? That’s where your native friends live.”
    Spinel blinked. “On greenish specks?”
    â€œ Rafts , starling; strong as anything, some of them with a hundred years’ growth of raftwood. Even traders can’t do better. We’ll land on one any minute now, if this old bird can manage it.”
    Uneasily Spinel shifted his feet. “Uh, Captain, won’t you be busy soon? With the landing and all.”
    â€œWhat, me? You think they’d let me touch the controls? That would really give your Hyalite lady the fits. No, I—damned if I don’t feel more like a janitor on this servo-ship.” Dak paused. “Wasn’t always that way. Back in the fifth century—give or take a few—now, that was my heyday.”
    â€œCome on, there’s a fish tale,” Spinel muttered.
    â€œOh, no, starling; I used to run the Malachite ship. At your service, here to Torr—decades at light-speed were but days to me.”
    Spinel looked up.
    â€œYou see, I was just a starling like you when my home world————” —he birdwhistled the name—“burnt to a cinder in the Brother Wars. After that, why, I wanted to get just as far away as time and space allowed. So I took the Torran route and ran it for centuries. Until they retired me to this hole.” He sighed.
    â€œThe Brother Wars—that was before the Patriarch. What, are you one of the Primes?” Those men who lived like gods—this old troll was one?
    Dak puffed his chest out. “That’s right, I’m a Prime. I’m older than the Patriarch of Torr, and near as old as Shora. I was there when the new age began, when they pulled all the planets together like lobsters in a trap. I can tell you—”

    â€œWhat do you mean about Shora? Was ‘Shora’ a person, too, a Prime?”
    Dak shrugged. “Shora was a legend even in my own birthtime. Off the regular trade routes; never worth the bother, for the powers of Torr. But I tell you, out of the thousand worlds ruled by the Patriarch, you won’t find one like Shora.”
    At that, Spinel frowned: finally, he had caught the man out. “There aren’t that many worlds in the Patriarchy. Torr’s Nine Legions rule ninety-three planets. I learned that in school.”
    â€œThere used to be more. Nine out of ten are congealed chunks of rock today; some still smolder. Weed out the bad ones, you know. What else is the Patriarch for?”
    Just then the deck lurched and shoved at Spinel’s feet as if there were an earthquake. While he scrambled to keep his balance, his tongue stiffened in back and he knew he would be sick.
    â€œWe’ve hit the atmosphere,” cried the captain. “Back to your seat-belt now, and hope the sea’s not too strong when we touch