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vanished and were replaced by a small room decorated in classical Hex-amon spareness. "All right."

Garry appeared in the middle of the room. "Hello, Karen."

"How are you?" She fingered the cool bowl of her wineglass, both glad to see him--she had not blanked out her worry--and curiously irritated.

But their quiet discord had gone on for so long, she did not want to let

him know her emotions. That was her armor.

"I'm fine. I've been thinking about you."

"I wondered if you were up here," she said defensively, struggling to keep her voice mellow.

"I wanted to talk to you before now, but I didn't want to interrupt your conference."

"Please do," she said. An image came to her mind of whom she wanted to be like now: the American actress of the early twentieth century, Bette Davis, cool and contentious, armored but desirable. The

apartment pictors could not do that for her, however.

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"We need to speak with Suli Ram Kikura."

"She's still in city memory, keeping the chickens from pecking at each other."

"Problems?"

"It's not going well, Garry." She looked away from the image, noticed her finger actually in the wine, removed it, and set the glass down. "I'm resting. What about Mirsky? What's happening?" There; the curiosity had escaped.

"Have you been following the Nexus proceedings?"

She shook her head.

"There's very big trouble coming." He explained the situation.

The time had come to shift gears; this was not strictly a personal call.

Still, the shift did not come easily. "That doesn't sound like the Nexus at all. Without consulting Earth?"

"Mirsky's told us some amazing things," Lanier said, "and frankly, I don't like the Nexus denying his request. I think re-opening the Way, and Page 327

leaving it open, is a very bad idea."

"Suli hasn't heard his story?"

"No."

She thought quickly, her conflicts temporarily suspended. They were almost a team again, working together on a problem. Something had changed about her husband. What had Mirsky done to him--to all of them? "All right. I'll contact her in city memory and tell her it's urgent.

Then I'll set up a meeting. Where are you?"

"Nexus dome quarters."

184 GREG BEAR

"Mirsky . . . he is Mirsky?"

"Yes."

That answer, unequivocal, brooked no argument; she knew Lanier better than to think he had come to such a judgment lightly. Somewhat to her surprise, she found she still trusted her husband's judgment on these matters . . perhaps on many other matters as well. Why was that surprising?

She did not dislike Garry; she disliked the thought of losing him forever. Their discord and separation were certainly not based on distrust or aversion.

"This is very big, then." A note of wonder and speculation crept into her voice.

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"It is indeed," Lanier said. "And Karen . .

I don't want our prob lems to get lost in it."

Her face flushed. "What do you mean?"

"I need to talk about other things, too."

"Oh?"

"When there's time."

"Fine," she said tightly.

"I love you," Lanier said, and his image faded.

Completely against her will, and to her surprise, her breath caught in her chest and she had to struggle to hold back tears. It had been years since he told her that.

"Damn him," she said.

THIRTY-FIVE

Rhita

Before the memory of her capture was lost to her completely, bleached away by the false Rhodian sun, she asked the youth, "Where are my Page 329

friends?"

"Preserved," the youth replied. She tried to ask more about them but could not. Her thoughts were restricted into certain channels. With a wrenching awareness of the falseness of this place, she forced herself to think, I am not free. She felt a shiver of horror. She could not be among