The first lights they saw were not in the sky, but along the road leading up the side of the valley to the cabin. Lanier pursed his lips and met the Russian’s glance with a shrug. “My wife,” he said. He had hoped to get the Russian away before her arrival.

The rugged All-Terrain Vehicle, modeled after types used by the first investigators on the Stone, ground its tires along the gravel drive to one side of the cabin and stopped, its electrical motors cutting abruptly. Karen swung down from the cabin in the automatic glare of the outdoor floodlights, saw Lanier on the porch and waved at him. He waved back, feeling older just looking at her.

In their life together, he had seen her age a decade or two, grow old along with me, then regress under therapy, the same therapy he had turned down. She looked a youthful forty at most.

“I’ve been in town,” she called out in Chinese as she dragged her duffel from the rear of the ATV. “We’re setting up an artificial social network, so the—” She saw the Russian and stopped on the porch steps, biting her lower lip. She looked over her shoulder at the drive; no other vehicles. Then she queried Lanier with one raised eyebrow.

“This is a visitor. His name is Pavel,” he said.

“We have not met,” the Russian said, stepping forward and extending his hand. “I am Pavel Mirsky.”

Karen smiled politely, but her instincts had been aroused.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, shifting her eyes to her husband. She glanced between them quickly, brow furrowed.

“I’m fine. His name,” Lanier repeated with some deliberate drama, “is Pavel Mirsky.”

“I know the name,” she said. “Wasn’t that the Russian commander on the Stone? Went with the precincts down the Way…didn’t he?” Her eyes fell accusingly on Lanier: What is this? She had seen pictures of Mirsky in the history tapes. The game was up. She recognized him. “You look just like him.”

“I hope I haven’t disturbed you,” the Russian said.

“He’s a son, a look-alike?” she asked Lanier.

He shook his head.

She stood on the top step, hands clasped before her. “You’re sure everything is all right? You’re joking with me.” She climbed up one step, paused again. Then, in Chinese, she asked Lanier, “Who is this man?”

In Chinese, Lanier responded, “He’s a good imitation, if not the real thing. I’m taking him to meet with Korzenowski.”

Karen walked slowly before them, examining the Russian, biting her lower lip. “Where did you come from?”

The Russian looked between them. “I have not explained that yet,” he said. “Better to wait until it all comes out.”

“You can’t be Mirsky,” Karen said. “If you’re trying to hoodwink my husband…All we heard would have to be a lie.”