The Free People of Earth had four capitals now—Bangkok had been added to Rwanda, Rotterdam, and Blackstream. But it was Blackstream—Ribeirão Preto—where the Hegemon lived. And that was where Peter had had her children moved. He hadn’t even asked her permission and it made her furious when he informed her what he had done. But she was busy in Russia and Peter said that Rotterdam wasn’t home to her and it wasn’t home to him and he was going home, and keeping her kids where he could make sure they were getting cared for.

So it was Brazil she came home to. And it did feel good. Moscow’s winter had been a nightmare, even worse than Armenia’s winters. And she liked the feel of Brazil, the pace of life, the way they moved, the football in the streets, the way they were never quite dressed, the music of the Portuguese language coming out of the neighborhood bars along with batuque and samba and laughter and the pungent smell of pinga.

She took a car part of the way but then paid him and told him to deliver her bags to the compound and she walked the rest of the way. Without actually planning it, she found herself walking past the little house where she and Bean had lived when they weren’t inside the compound.

The house had been changed. She realized: It was connected to the house next door by a couple of rooms added in, and the garden wall between them had been torn down. It was one big house now.

What a shame. They can’t leave well enough alone.

Then she saw the name on the little sign on the wall beside the gate.

Delphiki.

She opened the gate without clapping hands for permission. She knew now what had happened, but she also couldn’t believe that Peter had gone to such trouble.

She opened the door and walked in and…

There was Bean’s mother in the kitchen, making something that had a lot of olives and garlic in it.

“Oh,” said Petra. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you—I thought you were in Greece.”

The smile on Mrs. Delphiki’s face was all the answer Petra needed. “Of course you come in, it’s your house. I’m the visitor. Welcome home!”

“You came to—you’re here to take care of the babies.”

“We work for the FPE now. And our jobs brought us here. But I couldn’t stand to be away from my grandchildren. I took a leave of absence. Now I cook, and change nasty diapers, and scream at the empregadas.”

“Where are the…”

“Naptime!” said Mrs. Delphiki. “But I promise you, little Andrew, he’s only faking. He never sleeps, whenever I go in his eyes are just a little tiny bit open.”

“They won’t know me,” said Petra.

She dismissed that with a wave. “Of course not. But you think they’re going to remember that? Nothing that happens before age three.”