“Karen’s fine. She might be here now. She’s working with Suli Ram Kikura on a social project.” He swallowed. “Lenore is in Oregon now, I believe. Larry died a few months ago.”

Hoffman’s mouth made a surprised O. “I hadn’t heard…Damn. That’s a Christian for you.” She clasped his hand and sighed. “I’ll miss him. I’ve been out of touch up here—too much so. I’ve missed you all, but there’s been a lot of work.” The other three representatives approached from another aisle: David Par Jordan, Assistant and Advocate to the President, a small, delicate Thistledown-born man with white-blond hair; Sixth Chamber Supervisor Deorda Ti Negranes, a tall, lithe female homorph dressed in black; and Eula Mason, a squat, powerful woman with hawklike features, corprep for Axis Thoreau, an orthodox but not extreme Naderite with substantial power as a swing vote in the lower Nexus.

Mirsky watched them all with his mild, distanced expression, like an actor waiting to be called on stage. Hoffman shook hands and exchanged pleasantries with Korzenowski, then turned to Mirsky. She folded her hands in front of her chest. “Garry,” she said, “is this man who he says he is?”

Lanier knew his judgment would be relied upon implicitly. “I wasn’t sure to start with, but now, I think he is, yes.”

“Ser Mirsky, my pleasure to meet you again,” Hoffman said. “Under circumstances more peaceful, and certainly more mysterious.” She unfolded her hands and extended one with some hesitation. Mirsky grasped it by the fingertips and bowed.

Chivalry from the end of time, Lanier thought. What next?

“Indeed, Ser Hoffman,” he said. “Much has changed.”

As they adjourned to a meeting room in the complex beneath the arena, introductions were made all around, with a social awkwardness that Lanier found amusing, considering the circumstances. Human convention could trivialize even the most momentous occasions, and perhaps that was its purpose—to bring enormous events down to a human scale.

Korzenowski pointedly did not go into detail about Mirsky.

“We have some complicated and important evidence to bring before the Nexus and the president,” Korzenowski said as they took seats around a small round table.

“I have one question, and I can’t wait to ask it,” Eula Mason said, features stern. “I know very little about Ser Mirsky. He’s on Old Native—pardon me, a Terrestrial—and he has Russian ancestry, but your introduction doesn’t explain his importance, Ser Korzenowski. Where does he come from?”

“From a great distance in space and in time,” the Engineer said. “He’s presented us with some disturbing news, and he’s ready to testify before this select group. I warn you—you’ve never experienced anything like such testimony, even in city memory.”

“I make it a habit to avoid city memory,” Mason said. “I respect you, Ser Korzenowski, but I dislike mystery and I certainly dislike having my time wasted.”