Mrs. Rebka, who sat at Dr. Dvali's right at the head table, gave her a sharply skeptical look. "I hope that's true. You know, when we took on the task of raising Isaac thirteen years ago we faced some opposition—"

" Raising him, Mrs. Rebka, or creating him?"

Mrs. Rebka ignored the remark. "Opposition from other members of the Fourth community. We acted on convictions not everyone shared. We know we're a minority, a minority within a minority. And we knew you were out there, Ms. Moi, doing whatever work you do for the Martians. We knew you might eventually find us, and we were prepared to be frank and open with you. We respect your connection to a community far older than our own."

"Thank you," Sulean said, not concealing her own skepticism.

"But we had hoped you would be as frank with us as we were with you."

"If you have a question, please ask it."

"The procedure that created Isaac has been attempted before."

"It has been," Sulean admitted, "yes."

"And is it true that you have some personal experience of that?"

This time she wasn't quite so quick to answer. "Yes." The story of her upbringing had circulated widely among the Terrestrial Fourths.

"Would you share that experience with us?"

"If I'm reluctant to talk about it, the reasons are largely personal. The memory isn't pleasant."

"Nevertheless," Mrs. Rebka said.

Sulean closed her eyes. She didn't want to recall these events. The memory came to her, unbidden, all too often. But Mrs. Rebka was right, as much as Sulean hated to admit it. The time had come.

* * * * *

The boy.

The boy in the desert. The boy in the Martian desert.

The boy had died in the dry southern province of Bar Kea, some distance from the biological research station where he had been born and where he had lived all his life.

Sulean was the same age as the boy. She had not been born at the Bar Kea Desert Station but she could remember no other home. Her life before Bar Kea was little more than a story she had been told by her teachers: a story about a girl who had been washed away, along with her family, by a flood along the Paia River, and who had been rescued from the intake filter of a dam three miles downstream. Her parents had died and the small girl, this unremembered Sulean, had been so grievously wounded that she could only be saved by profound biotechnical intervention.

Specifically, the child Sulean had to be rebuilt using the same process that was used to extend life and create Fourths.