I hadn’t filmed my conversation with Kuwale – but I closed my eyes and invoked Witness , and played with the identikit option until I had vis face clearly in front of me – in digital form in my gut memory, as well as in my mind’s eye. I plugged in the umbilical fiber and moved the image into my notepad, then searched the global news databases for a match to either name or face. Not everyone had their fifteen minutes of fame, but with nine million non-profit netzines on top of all the commercial media, you didn’t exactly have to be a celebrity to make it into the archives. Win an agrotech competition in rural Angola, score the winning goal for even the most obscure Jamaican soccer team, and—

No such luck. The electronic teat fails again – at a cost of three hundred dollars.

So where was I meant to look for ver, if not on the nets? Out in the world. But I couldn’t scour the streets of Stateless…

I invoked Witness again, and flagged the identikit image for continuous realtime search. If Kuwale so much as appeared in the corner of my eye – whether or not I was recording, and whether or not I noticed – Witness would let me know.

Chapter 16

Karin De Groot led me into Violet Mosala’s suite. Despite the difference in scale, it had the same sunny-but-spartan feel as my own single room. A skylight added to the sense of space and light, but even this touch failed to create the impression of opulence which it might have, in another building, in another place. Nothing on Stateless appeared lavish to me, however grand – but I couldn’t decide to what extent this judgment was the product of the architecture itself, and how much was due to an awareness of the politics and biotechnology which lay behind every surface.

De Groot said, “Violet won’t be long. Take a seat. She’s talking to her mother, but I’ve already reminded her about the interview. Twice.”

It was three in the morning in South Africa. “Has something happened? I can come back later.” I didn’t want to intrude in the middle of a family crisis.

De Groot reassured me, “Everything’s fine. Wendy keeps strange hours, that’s all.”