In the cult of the Goddess of the Ancient Sea, and the shadow cult of Martis-Mortis, one meditated on the divine twins, Midnight and Noonday, shadow and sun. Shadow vanished at Noonday, without having gone away, and Midnight was all shadow.
Martisset opened the Gate of Hours between her palms, and its colors lit the mirrored walls, reflected faintly in the night-darkened glass, as she took measured breaths, matching the Ship’s Chronometer on the wall, feeling the beats of her heart. Sixty beats a Minute, that was normal and healthy.
There were black lines between the bands of color marking the five-Minute and five-Hour intervals, hair-fine, to adjust for individual differences in color perception. Martisset’s own vision reached into the near ultraviolet, her father had told her.
Not so far that she could see the colors of the stars as Ships saw them, or Captains who shared vision with the Ships. Those more-than-human eyes saw the spectrum unfolding in its full glory, from the frequencies of earthquakes up to those of high-energy sources in the utmost heavens.
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