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of foolish love, but I fled back here, and I've felt like a coward ever since. My only success comes from knowing that the students I teach will go out and do greater deeds than I ever managed. I have failed in so many things.”
    She looked down at Teresa, her clear blue eyes moist. “I don't want you to take my way out. You are a new soul, a special child. Many important things are in store for you. Find your answers elsewhere, Teresa Swan.”
    “But where?” she asked. “Where will I find other people who need to know? I want to join a community, be a part of it. I'll never belong the way I do here, with my friends.”
    “We rarely have that choice, do we?” Hot tears came to Soft Stone's eyes, as if a wound had been reopened. “For Daragon . . . it is too late. I sacrificed one of my own Swans to the Bureau. Whatever will he do with them?”
    Teresa heard the dismay in the woman's voice. “Probably the best he can, don't you think? Daragon always tried very hard.”
    “They'll make him one of their own.” The monk's once clear blue eyes now looked cloudy and old. “He was our ransom, and we
. . . sold
him. I couldn't think of any other way to save the monastery.”
    Teresa touched the monk's wrist, below her ID patch. “What do you mean?”
    “The BTL wanted to oust us so they could have a headquarters on the mainland. Chocolate tried everything, but we were going to be evicted. Eminent domain, a ‘greater societal need.' The Splinters had no way to challenge them.” She looked Teresa directly in the eye. “Until I discovered what Daragon could do—and how much the BTL was likely to want it. So they made a deal with us. We now have our title, free and clear. Daragon was worth more to them than the Falling Leaves.”
    One of the candles flickered, as if a ghost had just walked by.
    “The Beetles see COM as a sweatshop of souls, rather than a congregation of blessed lives, as we do.” Soft Stone shook her head. Gray bristles had begun to poke out of her smooth scalp.
    Teresa shifted her position. “I think it would be terrible never to swap with anyone, to experience only your own life and nobody else's. I'm so sorry for Daragon.”
    “Not just that, little Swan. His soul is anchored, unable to separate from his body. What if that means he is unable to move on in the Wheel of Life? Did I fail him?” Soft Stone's body surrendered to wracking sobs.
    Teresa had no answer for her.
    Two days later a pale and stoic Soft Stone went to see Administrator Chocolate. The community of other presences inside COM beckoned to her. She had searched her mind and soul and come to a decision.
    “I can hear their whispers behind the glimmering phosphors on the interactive screens.” Soft Stone repeated her well-rehearsed words, as if they were a poem. “I can see glimpses of nirvana within the vast thinking sea. I want to be part of it, join those myriad others. I will drink the wine of knowledge, bathe in the milk of unending community.”
    Behind his desk, Chocolate drummed his pudgy fingers on a desktop. “I cannot refuse your request, though it saddens me deeply.”
    “We should view this as a time of celebration, Chocolate. You of all people must treat it that way. You must believe in what COM offers to us all.”
    The administrator remained flustered. “But, is your work here done?”
    “It will never be done. But I am done with the doing.” She turned to leave the office and said with finality, “I intend to upload myself tomorrow at noon.”
    The following day they all gathered in the library/ database room, Splinter monks as well as their charges of all ages. Some sniffled and looked sad, a few whispered, others blinked with wonder and anticipation. Teresa didn't know what to feel. After the recent loss of Daragon, too many things were changing. Soon, Soft Stone was going to vanish, willingly uploading her soul into the vast computer matrix that was COM.
    Since humans could swap from body to body at will,