This time, Navann decided to apply fractal recursivity, by recombining the borders of the recombined border pictures. Border edges appeared to be there, in the grain of the image repeat reshufflings. She used her computer’s scope to peer at them closely with magnification. She printed up some copies of Isten’s interpretations and clipped off the borders where she saw their clipping lines in the images. Gazing between the magnified images and her new border strips, she was jogging something in her mind, a resemblance or connection that must be in there somewhere.
This was all in the spirit of idleness, a comfortable retired woman’s puzzle obsession. Navann did something with them that she did as a child, folding them around each other. That was a form of recombination. There was a little bit of random matching. She waved the accordioned strips around in the air a little, and went to sleep with them in a gathered pile on her bedside table.
There were some ways to align sections of these secondarily-nested borders that created regular polygons, matching sides and matching angles: hexagons, squares, triangles. She noticed this over her warm mug of the morning. She tried scope-scanning sections she matched up with a polygon in the center. Nope. She tried the areas made up by the corners between matching polygons. Nope. This didn’t exactly match any systems she knew, but there were always systems she didn’t know about, as a rule. Navann had a quixotic insight that would involve jamming on some software. She prepared a large pot of soup, and surrounded her desk with comforts.