As sunset approached they allowed the flitter to return them to the House. They agreed to meet the next day, perhaps take another trip somewhere. Matthew kissed her lightly, on the lips, as they parted.

That night she could barely sleep. She lay in the dark of her room, the scent of salt still strong in her nostrils, the image of Matthew alive in her mind. Her body seemed to pulse with hot blood, with its endless, continuing growth.

The next day -- her sixteenth -- Lieserl rose quickly. She'd never felt so alive; her skin still glowed from the salt and sunlight of the shore, and there was a hot tension inside her, an ache deep in her belly, a tightness.

When she reached the flitter bay at the front of the House, Matthew was waiting for her. His back was turned, the low sunlight causing the fine hairs at the base of his neck to glow.

He turned to face her.

He reached out to her, uncertainly, then allowed his hands to drop to his sides. He didn't seem to know what to say; his posture changed, subtly, his shoulders slumping slightly; before her eyes he was becoming shy of her.

She was taller than him. Visibly older. She became abruptly aware of the still-childlike roundness of his face, the awkwardness of his manner. The thought of touching him -- the memory of her feverish dreams during the night -- seemed absurd, impossibly adolescent.

She felt the muscles in her neck tighten; she felt as if she must scream. Matthew seemed to recede from her, as if she was viewing him through a tunnel.

Once again the laboring nanobots -- the damned, unceasing nanotechnological infection of her body -- had taken away part of her life.

This time, though, it was too much to bear.

"Why? Why?" She wanted to scream abuse at her mother -- to hurt her.

Phillida had never looked so old. Her skin seemed drawn tight across the bones of her face, the lines etched deep. "I'm sorry," she said. "Believe me. When we -- George and I -- volunteered for this program, we knew it would be painful. But we never dreamed how much. Neither of us had had children before. Perhaps if we had, we'd have been able to anticipate how this would feel."

"I'm a freak -- an absurd experiment," Lieserl shouted. "A construct. Why did you make me human? Why not some insentient animal? Why not a Virtual?"

"Oh, you had to be human. As human as possible..." Phillida seemed to come to a decision. "I'd hoped to give you a few more days of -- life, normality -- before it had to end. You seemed to be finding some happiness--"

"In fragments," Lieserl said bitterly. "This is no life, Phillida. It's grotesque."

"I know. I'm sorry, my love. Come with me."

"Where?"

"Outside. To the garden. I want to show you something."