"No," Patricia said, swinging her legs over the side of the cot. "Do I have a work schedule, some idea of what I'm supposed to be doing, when?"

"Garry will tell you all about that in a half hour or so. He's sleeping now. Exhaled. I mean, exhausted. We're all a bit worried about him, you know."

"You and the others—you have green badges, but do you have third level clearance?"

"Heavens, no." Farley laughed, tossing her long blond hair back over her shoulders. "We're Chinese. We're lucky to have gotten this far. We're here by courtesy and because our governments happen to be friendly this decade. All the same, we're much better off than the poor Russians. They get to study the bore holes and the plasma tubes, and very little else. Everyone perceives plasma physics to be their specialty, so they're stuck on the axis. Americans have no conception what fine archaeologists they have. Now, as for their sociology. . .” She shook her head ruefully. "I'm a born and bred Marxist, but I'm not sure the Stoners would fit strict Leninist dogma."

"Garry hasn't given me any details on the agreements. I read about them at home. . . . But I know we weren't told everything."

"NATO–Eurospace vessels were the first to reach the Stone and begin exploration. By the ISCCOM agreements, NATO has the right to control exploitation, and NATO is dominated by the United States, of course. The Russians have protested this is a special case, but they haven't gotten anywhere so far. The Chinese have never been tebbly—terribly—interested in deep space, so we've accepted what little we've been allowed. By being quiet and subservient, we've come much further than the Russians. No Russians in the seventh chamber, you'll notice."

"You don't sound Chinese."

Farley laughed. "Thank you. Everyone says my accent is good, but sometimes my words. . . Well. What you're really saying, I think, is I don't look Chinese. I'm a second-generation Caucasian immigrant. My parents were British expatriates in Czechoslovakia. They were agricultural specialists, and China welcomed them with open arms when they emigrated in 1978. I was born there."

"I've spent all of my life in California," Patricia said. "I feel so protected compared to you. Out of touch with the real world."

"The world of intrigue and international politics? Me too. I spent most of my life on a farm in Hopeh. Rather cut off. And now. . . we're both here." She looked down at the ground, shaking her head. "For various reasons, there are a lot of things we shouldn't talk about. Garry trusts me, and I respect his trust. We've all done our best to be courteous and trustworthy. That's why we've come this far. So. Technical matters directly relating to our work, that's okay. But anything having to do with subjects off limits to Wu, Chang and me—no discussion. None at all."

"Okay," Patricia said.

Farley looked north, directly down the throat of the corridor. "The Stoners made this. They were humans, just like you and me. Beyond that, we're encaved—in the dark. But sometime, we will run into them—or something even stranger." She smiled thinly. "Is that a prediction strong enough for you?"