She looked around the room, ready to field more questions. There were none; implications were beginning to sink in.

"I'll use Olmy as an example," Ram Kikura said. "With his permission. . . ?"

Olmy nodded.

"He is something of a rarity because of his age and history. His original body was born five centuries ago. His first death was by accident; the destruction was not total, so he was reconstructed. Since he was considered important to the Hexamon and was involved in dangerous work, he was allowed three incarnations, rather than the usual two. His present body is adapted for specialty work; it's a popular type and is completely self-contained. His waste systems are also closed. Within his abdomen there is a small power supply; all his wastes are reprocessed internally. He needs to replace his power source and bring in supplementary materials only once a year. He requires water every three months."

"Are you human?" Carrolson asked Olmy pointedly.

"I am," Olmy said. "I presume you're curious about my sexuality?"

"What. . . Yes, frankly," Carrolson admitted. Heineman squinted one eye and raised the opposite brow.

"I am fully masculine by birth and choice, and my sexual organs are functional."

"They are, indeed," Ram Kikura said. "But natal sexual orientation, even in those born naturally, is not necessarily permanent."

"You mean, once a man, not always a man?" Farley asked.

"Or a woman. Or man or woman. Many neomorphs today have no specific sexual orientation."

"You talk about those born naturally," Heineman said. "You have test-tube babies, that sort of thing?"

"At the risk of shocking you—which may be unavoidable—most people today are not born of man and woman. Their personalities are created by one or more parents through the merging of partial personalities in City Memory, with the infusion of what we call Mystery from at least one individual, usually a parent. The young personality is educated and tested in City Memory, and if it passes certain tests, it 'matures,' that is, it earns its first incarnation, most often as a mature young adult. The corpus the personality inhabits may be designed by the parents, or by the individual. If in time the corporeal citizen uses its two incarnations, it then retires to City Memory."

Carrolson started to say something, thought better of it, then decided to speak anyway. "Are the people without bodies—in the computers—are they human, are they alive?" she asked.

"They believe so," Ram Kikura said. "They have specific rights, and certain duties, as well, though by necessity their say in government is less than that of corporeal citizens. But if I may suggest we are not discussing the subjects of most immediate importance. . .” She pointed toward the rotating image of the city.