“It’s a shorter strand than usual,” Sax said. “Either a new viroid, or something like a viroid but smaller still.” In the Sabishii labs they were calling it “the virid.”

A long week later, Sax came back up to the basin. “We can try to remove it physically,” he said over dinner. “Then plant different species, ones that are resistant to viroids. That’s the best we can do.”

“But will that work?”

“The plants susceptible to infection are fairly specific. You got hit by a new one, but if you change grasses, and types of potatoes— perhaps cycle out some of your potato-patch soil. . . .” Sax shrugged.

Nirgal ate with more appetite than he had had for the previous week. Even the suggestion of a possible solution was a great relief. He drank some wine, felt better and better. “These things are strange, eh?” he said over an after-dinner brandy. “What life will come up with!”

“If you call it life.”

“Well, of course.”

Sax didn’t reply.

“I’ve been looking at the news on the net,” Nirgal said. “There are a lot of infestations. I had never noticed before. Parasites, viruses. . . .”

“Yes. Sometimes I worry about a global plague. Something we can’t stop.”

“Ka! Could that happen?”

“There’s all kinds of invasions going on. Population surges, sudden die-offs. All over. Things in disequilibrium. Upsetting balances we didn’t even know existed. Things we don’t understand.” As always this thought made Sax unhappy.

“Biomes will eventually come into equilibrium,” Nirgal suggested.

“I’m not sure there is such a thing.”

“As equilibrium?”

“Yes. It may be a matter of. . . .” He waved his hands about like gulls. “Punctuated equilibrium, without the equilibrium.”

“Punctuated change?”

“Perpetual change. Braided change— sometimes surging change—”

“Like cascading recombinance?”

“Perhaps.”

“I’ve heard that’s a mathematics only a dozen people can really understand.”