Axis

"Because the Hypotheticals built this planet for us."

"Maybe not for us, exactly, but yes, they built it, or at least modified it, and that turns our study of this world into a whole new discipline—not just biology or geology but a kind of planetary archaeology. This world was profoundly influenced by the Hypotheticals long before modern human beings evolved, millions of years before the Spin, millions of years before the Arch was put in place. That tells us something about their methods and their extraordinary capacity for very long-term pla

"Planet as artifact," Lise said.

"The book he was writing." Dvali nodded. "Have you read it?"

"All I've seen of it is the introduction." And a few notes, salvaged from one of her mother's convulsive fits of radical housecleaning.

"I wish there had been more. It would have been an important work."

"Is that what you talked about with him?"

"Often enough, yes."

"But not always."

"Obviously, we talked about the Martians and what they might know about the Hypotheticals. He knew I was a Fourth—"

"You told him?"

"I took him into my confidence."

"May I ask why?"

"Because of his obvious interest. Because he was trustworthy. Because he understood the nature of the world." Dvali smiled. "Basically, because I liked him."

"He was okay with that, with your—Fourthness?"

"He was curious about it."

"Did he talk about taking the treatment himself?"

"I won't say he didn't consider it. But he never made the request to me or, so far as I know, anyone else. He loved his family, Miss Adams—I don't need to tell you that. I was as shocked as anyone else when I heard about his disappearance."

"Did you confide in him about this project of yours, too? About Isaac?"

"When it was in the pla

"But he didn't inform on you. He didn't do anything to stop it."

"No, he didn't inform on us, but we argued bitterly over it—the friendship was strained at that point."

"Strained, but not broken."

"Because despite our disagreement, he understood why the work seemed necessary. Urgently necessary." Dvali leaned closer to her and for a moment Lise was afraid he would reach out and take her hands. She wasn't sure she could stand that. "The idea of any tangible contact with the Hypotheticals—with the motivating spirit behind their vast network of machines—fascinated him as much as it fascinated me. He knew how important it was, not just for our generation but for generations to come, for humanity as a species."

"You must have been disappointed when he wouldn't cooperate."

"I didn't need his cooperation. I would have liked his approval. I was disappointed when he withheld it. After a time we simply stopped talking about it—we talked about other things. And when the project began in earnest I left Port Magellan. I never saw your father again."

"That was six months before he disappeared."

"Yes."

"Do you know anything about that?"

"About his disappearance? No. Genomic Security was in the Port at the time—looking for me, among others, since rumors of the project had reached them—and when I heard Robert Adams had gone missing I assumed he'd been picked up and interrogated by Genomic Security. But I don't know that for certain. I wasn't there."

"Most of the people who are interrogated by Genomic Security walk away from it, Dr. Dvali." Although she knew better.

"Not all," Dvali said.

"He wasn't a Fourth. Why would they hurt him?" Kill him, she couldn't bring herself to say.

"He would have resisted on principle and out of personal loyalty."

"You knew him well enough to say that?"

"I took the treatment in Bangalore, Miss Adams, twenty years ago. I'm not omniscient, but I'm a good judge of human character. Not that there was anything especially occult about Robert Adams. He wore his sincerity on his sleeve."

He was murdered. That had always been the most likely explanation, though the details might be uglier than Lise had imagined. Robert Adams had been murdered and the men who murdered him would never come to trial for it. But there was another story inside the story. The story of his curiosity, his idealism, the strength of his convictions.

Some of these thoughts must have shown on her face. Dvali was radiating a sympathetic concern. "I know that isn't much help. I'm sorry."

Lise stood up. All she felt at the moment was cold. "May I ask you one more thing?"

"If you like."

"How do you justify it? The fate of humanity aside, how do you justify putting an i

Dvali turned up his cup and emptied the last of his coffee on the ground. "Isaac was never an i

She came across the campground to the circle of light in which Turk was sitting, fiddling with a pocket telecom receiver. Turk, her avatar of disappearances: Turk, who had vanished from many lives. "Radio broken?"

"Nothing coming in over the aerostats. Nothing from Port Magellan. Last I heard they were talking about another tremor out west." Oil revenue, of course, being the Port's pere

"Just tired," she said.

She brewed another pot of coffee and drank enough to keep her alert, even as the others began to settle in for the night. At last—as she had hoped—there was no one up and moving except herself and the Martian woman, Sulean Moi.

Lise was intimidated by Sulean Moi, even though she looked like the kind of elderly woman you might help across the street at a stoplight. She wore her age and the distance she had traveled as a kind of invisible aura. It took a certain amount of courage to join her at the guttering campfire, where the logs had worn down to radiant hollows and red chambers.

"Don't be afraid," the old woman said.

Lise was startled. "Are you reading my mind?"

"Reading your face."

"I'm not really afraid." Not much.

Sulean smiled, exposing her small white teeth. "I think I would be, in your position—given what you must have heard about me. I know the stories they tell. The grim elder Martian, victim of a childhood injury."

She tapped her skull. "My supposed moral authority. My unusual history."

"Is that how you see yourself?"

"No, but I recognize the caricature. You spent a good deal of time and energy looking for me, Miss Adams."

"Call me Lise."

"Lise, then. Do you still have that photograph you've been showing around?"

"No." She had destroyed it back in the Minang village, at Diane's urging.

"Just as well. So here we are. No one to overhear us. We can talk."

"When I started looking for you I had no idea—"

"That it would inconvenience me? Or that it would attract the attention of Genomic Security? Don't apologize. You knew what you knew, and what you didn't know could hardly enter into your calculations. You want to ask me about Robert Adams and how and why he died."

"Do you know for a fact that he's dead?"

"I didn't witness the killing, but I've spoken with people who saw him abducted and I can't imagine any other outcome. If he had been able to come home he would have done so. I'm sorry if that seems blunt."

Blunt but increasingly self-evident, Lise thought. "It's true that he was taken by Genomic Security?"