This new collection of science fiction from Le Guin (Searoad, 1991, etc.) is comprised of eight tales, written between 1983 and 1994, drawn from various magazines and anthologies. "Newton's Sleep," one of the five shorter pieces, suggests that, even in an isolated, aseptic space habitat, there will be no escaping the visible and tangible evidence of our Earthly heritage. "The Kerastion" is a musical instrument that cannot be heard. Two other tales provide gently satirical amusement (alien visitors, climbers' journals), and the last story is a controlled yet angry feminist parable. Elsewhere, the three longest, most substantial entries are interlinked metafictions — stories about story, in effect — probing the effects of "churten" technology, which enables people to move from one place to another instantaneously — though not without mishap. In "The Shobies' Story," a close-knit group of various human types pass through a churten transference; then, when they are unable to find a mutually agreeable definition of reality, their narratives become mere noise. The protagonist of "Dancing to Ganam," a veteran of space flight and alien contact, was once regarded as a god but, after a churten journey to a rediscovered planet, he allows his own preconceptions to overtake all other versions of reality. And in the title piece, a researcher in churten theory finds himself flung backward in time, where he can choose to reinvent churten theory singlehandedly or to return home to find the love and companionship that he once rejected — indeed, both stories are simultaneously true. Limpid, affecting, inimitable, brilliant.