There were supposedly lots of native Fourths on Earth now, though they lacked the elaborate social structures that constrained the lives of their Martian cousins. Taking the treatment was illegal under a UN

accord signed by virtually every member nation. Most of what the Department of Genomic Security did back in the States was shutting down Fourth cults both genuine and fraudulent—that, and policing the booming trade in human and animal genetic enhancements. These were the folks Lise's ex-husband worked for.

* * * * *

"You know," she said, "we haven't talked much about this."

"We haven't talked nearly enough about anything at all, seems to me."

Her smile, though brief, was pleasing.

She said, "Do you know any Fourths?"

"Wouldn't recognize one if I saw one." And if that was an evasion, she didn't appear to notice.

"Because it's different here in the Port," she said, "here in the New World. The laws aren't enforced the way they are back on Earth."

"That's changing, I hear."

"Which is why I want to look at what my father was interested in before it all gets erased. People say there's a Fourth underground in the city. Maybe more than one."

"Yeah, I've heard that. I've heard a lot of things. Not all true."

"I can do all the secondhand research I want, but what I really need is to talk to someone who's had direct experience with the Fourth community here."

"Right. Maybe Brian can arrange it for you, next time DGS arrests somebody."

He was immediately sorry he'd said it, or said it so bluntly. She tightened up. "Brian and I are divorced, and I'm not responsible for what Genomic Security does."

"But he's looking for the same people you're looking for."

"For different reasons."

"Do you ever wonder about that? Whether he might be using you as some kind of cat's paw? Riding on your research?"

"I don't show my work to Brian—to anyone."

"Not even when he's baiting you with the woman who maybe took away your father?"

"I'm not sure you have the right—"

"Forget it. I'm just, you know, concerned."

She was obviously on the verge of handing that right back to him, but she cocked her head and thought about it first. That was one of the things Turk had noticed about her right away, the habit she had of stepping outside the moment before she rendered a verdict.

She said, "Don't make assumptions about me and Brian. Just because we're still on speaking terms doesn't mean I'm doing him favors."

"Just so we know where we are," he said.

* * * * *

The sky was gray again by noon, but the clouds were rain clouds, nothing exotic, and they brought a drenching, unseasonable downpour. Turk guessed the rain might ultimately be a boon—it would wash some of this ash into the soil or out to sea, maybe help salvage the season's crops, if that was possible.