Defying Gravity [for Hans]
The Nexus has many out-of-the-way corners, more than any sane mathematician should be able to comprehend. In one such corner is a woman very much like Ali, except very much not. Her ears are long and pointed, her features somehow further perfected, her skin flawless and glowing. Yes, glowing.
And gravity, it would seem, is her plaything today: in the course of what is either a dance or a highly ritualized style of fighting, the woman and her half-ethereal opponent jump higher than they should ever be capable of, skimming the tops of walls when not running their lengths, and hovering in the midst of a flurry of blows. They twist and contort their bodies, flipping and floating through the air so as to make Russian gymnasts weep.
No, there are no wires. There is only grace, and power, and the wind.
And gravity, it would seem, is her plaything today: in the course of what is either a dance or a highly ritualized style of fighting, the woman and her half-ethereal opponent jump higher than they should ever be capable of, skimming the tops of walls when not running their lengths, and hovering in the midst of a flurry of blows. They twist and contort their bodies, flipping and floating through the air so as to make Russian gymnasts weep.
No, there are no wires. There is only grace, and power, and the wind.