There wasn't room to bow or to curtsy, so she gave a mock-bow, hands folded. "Thank you, Howard. It's the best gift I've received in a long time." To herself: "And I don't even have to smash it..."

And when had Stacy become home for her?

"Well," she interlaces her fingers and squeezes, "first I need to establish my identity to this box. Then, since I'm activating it in an environment that isn't thalient, I have to convince it not to lock itself down and go inert on me. Then, I can get it to open."

Carefully, she takes the box down and holds it balanced flat on one hand; with the other hand, she starts touching the top and sides of it, and blue sketch-strokes seem to spiral under its surface as she does. "This may take a while..."