Pakt smiled. “No, you innocent, the human species. A woman who mates with an inferior produces inferior children. They will not be as strong, as big, as intelligent as their cousins and rivals. Therefore, they will not be able to win the most attractive and fertile women of the next generation, and eventually the bloodline thins out and vanishes. All human behavior can be traced back to the biological imperatives. Most of it, anyway.”

“And men’s desire for sex?”

Pakt flung his arms out over his desk. “Procreate everywhere! Produce hundreds of sons! Make sure your lineage never dies out!”

“Well, but if a man is taking another man as his lover—”

Pakt laughed again. “True, no children will result. At times the biological impulse gets cross-wired. But it’s always in there working.”

Nolan thought a moment, sighed, and pushed himself to his feet. “I don’t know. You might be right. But my life seems more controlled by outside forces than anything ticking inside my head.”

“Well, yes, when culture reinforces biology, your destiny can seem pretty inescapable. Even so, the individual will sometimes surprise you. More often than you think.”

*   *   *

The rest of the day passed calmly enough, though there was still little interaction among the races—indeed, among anyone. They all kept to their own offices, working diligently. Nolan spared a thought to regret that Cerisa was gone this day and so did not have a chance to observe how industrious they all had become.

And the next two days, though Cerisa was among them again, she might as well have been absent. She locked herself in her lab and did not emerge even for lunch. Melina and Colt returned that second day, each of them appearing both chastened and defiant, and, like the others, confined themselves to their workspaces. Nolan noticed that Melina was no longer wearing her lover’s necklace, though she was wearing a shirt whose collar was embroidered with Julitta’s family colors. He guessed that Colt was not conversant enough with the heraldry of the mid-caste indigo to recognize the symbolism of that pattern. In any case, the guldman did not react to the provocation.

The afternoon of her second day back, Nolan stopped by Melina’s office and asked her to lunch. “That would be fun,” she said in her usual decisive manner, and so they left the building together, chatting idly. Over the meal, they talked mostly of their work, but conversation gradually turned to more personal topics.

“So. I saw you talking with Colt this morning. Have you two smoothed things over?” Nolan asked cautiously.

She laughed and rolled her eyes. “Yes. You know we fight all the time, and we never stay mad at each other for long. In some ways, he’s my best friend at the lab. We’re so much alike.”

“You and Colt?” Nolan said incredulously. “Alike?”