They toasted the idea with another hit of nitrous oxide, and the idea of the briny frozen borders of the aquifer outbreaks becoming meadows and forests suddenly struck them all as extremely funny. “We need moles,” Sax said, trying to wipe the grin from his face. “Moles and voles are crucial in changing fellfields to meadow, I wonder if we can make some kind of CO2-tolerant arctic moles.”

His companions thought this was hilarious, but he was lost in thought for a while, and didn’t notice.

“Listen, Claire, do you think we could go out and have a look at one of the glaciers? Do some of the work on-site?”

Claire stopped giggling and nodded. “Sure. In fact that reminds me. We’ve got a permanent experimental station out at Arena Glacier, with a good lab. And we’ve been contacted by a biotech group from Armscor, one with a lot of clout with the Transitional Authority. They want to be taken out to see the station and the ice. I guess they’re planning to build a similar station in Marineris. We can go out with that group and show them around, and do some fieldwork, and kill two birds with one stone.”

Plans to make this trip actually made it from the Lowen into the lab, and then the front office. Approval came swiftly, as was usual in Biotique. So Sax worked hard for a couple of weeks, preparing for the fieldwork, and at the end of that intensive period he packed his bag, and one morning took the subway out to West Gate. There in the Swiss garage he spotted some people from the office, gathered with several strangers. Introductions were still being made. Sax approached, and Claire saw him and drew him into the crowd, looking excited. “Here, Stephen, I want to introduce you to our guest for the trip.” A woman wearing some kind of prisming fabric turned around, and Claire said, “Stephen, I’d like you to meet Phyllis Boyle. Phyllis, this is Stephen Lindholm.”

“How do you do?” Phyllis said, extending a hand.

2

Sax took her hand and shook. “I do fine,” he said.

Vlad had nicked his vocal cords to give him a different vocal print if he was ever tested, but everyone in Gamete had agreed that he sounded just the same. And now Phyllis cocked her head curiously at him, alerted by something. “I’m looking forward to the trip,” he said, and glanced at Claire. “I hope I haven’t held you up?”

“No no, we’re still waiting for the drivers.”

“Ah.” Sax backed away. “Good to meet you,” he said to Phyllis politely. She nodded, and with a final curious glance turned back to the people she had been talking to. Sax tried to concentrate on what Claire was saying about the drivers. Apparently driving a rover across open terrain was a specialized occupation now.