Regenesis

And it went well. Amy showed up with Quentin– theywere a couple, everyone knew it, even if Quentin hung out with Grant and Sam’s Pavel and Ya

Aunt Victoria Strassen hadn’t moved in: Aunt Vickie had her apartment over in Residential A. She sent a precisely written, neatly folded note that informed her niece that she appreciated the offer, but that she preferred her current residence and her old neighbors, and sent along a little box, which she called a housewarming gift. For Aunt Victoria, that was very, very considerate. It proved to contain a small carved plaque, which said, between sprigs of carved leaves, Family Matters. Probably Aunt Vickie had taken a bit of effort picking that out, to mean absolutely anything one wanted it to–particularly whatever Aunt Vickie meant, which might not be entirely polite, considering Vickie’s opinion of her origins. But Ari had Spessy hang it on the i

Justin and Grant showed up in brown knit and tweed–it set off Grant’s red hair and did absolutely nothing good for Justin. Set Maddy on him, was Ari’s wicked thought.

But she held back. She thought probably she’d pushed Justin just a little too far all in one day as it was, and figured if he’d wanted to stand out in the crowd, he might really have picked something other than that medium‑beige sweater and Harris tweed coat.

Truth was, he didn’t look particularly happy in being here, and mostly, nursing one drink, and surrounded by people twenty years younger than he was, he stayed close to Ya

As for Florian and Catlin, both of themstayed on the fringe of the azi group, cheerful enough, but notindulging in wine at all this evening, she’d noted that, not even with these people who were her dearest friends in all the world. She saw absolutely no reason in present company that they couldn’t or shouldn’t relax, but they didn’t let go, not for a heartbeat. They’d worked so hard, so long, they’d gotten her here safely, they’d gotten her friends here, and there wasn’t anything wrong tonight–was there?

Was there something afoot that she didn’t know?

She almost went and asked them. But she was the hostess, and she had a very conscientious serving staff trying to manage a new arrangement, a new kitchen, and new premises, and trying not to ask questions of her. That was her situation to watch, her current level of crisis being an upset and lost azi maid standing there idle.

“Joyesse,” she said, “you’ve done very well setting up. Would you mind serving canapes? Go to Wyndham. He’ll like your help.”

Joyesse took off. Happy again. All her younger friends were happy–Sam, with his girlfriend at his side, and with Pavel hovering close to him, was telling one of his stories, talking about the build. Justin and Ya

The fish wall was an absolute success. Everyone admired it. Even the azi serving kept looking up at it, or around at it, in moments of utter, unguarded distraction, eyes taking in this and that detail. Amy naturally wanted to know the names of all the fish and everything that waved or moved or crawled in that tank–because Amy’s place had a similar tank, but round, a cylinder in the middle of her living room, and her aquarium specialist would serve Amy’s place, too. Amy knew fish, but she’d never dealt with salt water, and she was fascinated, happy and excited–for Amy. Maddy–Maddy got a waterfall, with orchids. Sam got a river all through his apartment, with a little pond under a glass floor in the rec room; and Ya

She hadn’t asked Stef Dietrich to move in, so there, for someone double‑dealing in relationships from the time he was a kid. She’d arranged a very good job at Viking for Stef, he’d live like a prince on a Reseune salary on that mining station, and that was that for him, who’d tried to break hearts in the group…and never had changed his ways.

There were Dan and Mischa Peterson, each with a significant other; there was Stasi Morley‑Ramirez, who’d grown up taller than any of them–she just towered; she was going into airport admin, and had a beta azi assistant she’d gotten on her own. She’d grown much more serious than she’d used to be, and that was very, very serious; but she unbent and laughed with Dan and Mischa, like old times.

And there were Mika and Tommy Carnath, each with their own place, both single, so that would have to be watched: they got terrarium gardens and sky‑roofs. There was Dan Peterson and Will Morely with under‑floor ponds–Will had a relationship going with Peterson’s sister Judith, and she was all right: she was a Gamma Supervisor, and had a clean record, and they were almost engaged.

There were no children in the entire lot. That was going to change, this November.

God, she thought, Giraud. Giraud was going to be fascinated by the skinks.

And that would actually work very well. Giraud had so loved little microcosms. He’d visit here, with the fishes. With Sam’s river. He’d be all over the place. If she were a kid again, in this place, she’d have it all mapped out, and she’d be everywhere.

Sam kept company with his significant other, Maria. She looked very nice in a white lace‑edged skirt–was a little ta

“This is all Sam’s doing, all this place. He’s worked so hard. How do you like the new wing?”

That was a set‑up question. Of course they all had to say yes, and Sam blushed, and looked at Maria, and Maria looked at him with a little blush of her own, adoring, so sweet it was acutely embarrassing.

At least she didn’t need to single Maria out for a special introduction: most present knew Maria, and Sam took care to introduce her to anyone else in range, even Patrick, who hastily wiped crumbs from his fingers–on his coat–and extended a hand. “This is Maria Wilkins‑Teague,” Sam said, beaming. “She’s from the AG wing. This is Patrick Emory. He’s Sera Ariane Emory’s cousin.”