So the visceral jolt of failure got edited out of careers by the wily. But for a Librarian, there could be clear signs of success. Masoul’s instruction to attempt an inverse translation meant she had to create the algorithms opposite to what her training had envisioned. If she succeeded, everyone would know. So, too, if she flopped.

Rachel worked for several days on the reverse conversion. Start with a theorem from differential geometry and use the context filters of the Sigma Structure to produce music. Play it and try to see how it could be music at all….

The work made her mind feel thick and sluggish. She made little headway. Finally she unloaded on Catkejen at dinner. Her friend nodded sympathetically and said, “You’re stuck?”

“What comes out doesn’t sound like tonal works at all. Listen, I got this from some complex algebra theorem.” She flicked on a recording she had made, translated from the Structure.

Catkejen frowned. “Sounds a little like an Islamic chant.”

“Um.” Rachel sighed. “Could be. The term algebra itself comes from aljabr, an Arabic text. Hummmm…”

“Maybe some regression analysis…?” Catkejen ventured. Rachel felt a rush of an emotion she could not name. “Maybe less analysis, more fun.”

5.

ANDANTE MODERATO

The guy who snagged her attention wore clothes so loud they would have been revolting on a zebra. Plus, he resembled a mountain more than a man. But he had eyes with solemn long lashes that shaded dark pools and… drew her in.

“He’s big,” Catkejen said as they surveyed the room. “Huge. Maybe too huge. Remember, love’s from chemistry but sex is a matter of physics.”

Something odd stirred in Rachel, maybe just impatience with the Sigma work. Math meets music galore. Or maybe she was just hungry. For… what? The SETI Library had plenty of men. After all, its pods and tech development labs had fine, shiny über-gadgets and many guys to tend them. But among men, sheer weight of numbers did not ensure quality. There were plenty of the stareannosaurus breed who said nothing, just gave her long looks. Straight women could do well among the Library throngs—her odds were good, but the goods were odd.

The big man stood apart, not even trying to join a conversation. He was striking, resolutely alone like that. She knew that feeling well. And, big advantage, he was near the food.

He looked at her as she delicately picked up a handful of the fresh-roasted crickets. “Take a whole lot.” His deep voice rolled over the table. “Crunchy, plenty of spice. And they’ll be gone soon.”

She got through the introductions all right, mispronouncing his name, Kane, to comic effect. Go for banter, she thought. Another inner voice said tightly, What are you doing?

“You’re a…?”

“Systems tech,” Kane said. “I keep the fast-grow caverns perking along.”

“How long do you think this food shortage will go on?” Always wise to go to current and impersonal events.

“Seems like forever already,” he said. “Damn calorie companies.”