It would have been fastest to take the lift up to Level 4 and walk straight to Dan’s place, but I went back around the yeast farm to the dark anonymity of the ag-level pathway. It cheered me up for some reason.

I could feel his eyes on me as I walked away, and was acutely conscious of having gained a kilogram, more or less, for every year since we had been lovers, all of it settling below the center of gravity. He had probably gained as much, himself, but all upper-body muscle, which made him look prettier than ever. I had a momentary flash of loathing for men in general and young ones in particular.

Dan was lying in bed but still awake, watching a man and woman ice-skate in the cube. I couldn’t identify the music accompanying them, vaguely Germanic. Maybe a polka.

“Old one?”

He nodded. “Winter Olympics 2012, I think it said.”

“Random Walk?”

“Uh huh.” That was an entertainment program that would give you a five- or ten-second introduction to a show, then skip at random to another, out of an assortment of about a million programs whose only common denominator was that you didn’t need any special knowledge to appreciate them. It was kind of fun to let it run on and on, creating a slow mosaic of sports, arts, drama, sex, and gameshows. He clicked it to change. “Good swim?”

“Okay. I’ve got to lose some weight.”

“What, nobody propositioned you?”

“Nobody you’d want me to bring home.” I shook the wine box and was moderately surprised to find it still half full. I got my glass from the sink. “Actually, a guy I didn’t recognize gave me the thumb. Sort of a middle-aged Buddha. Shaved bald all over.”

“Yeah, that’s Radi-something, Radimacher … don’t remember. John knows him; he’s in Materials.”

“I could’ve kissed him. But he might have misinterpreted it.”

“What?” Dan was distracted by the current five seconds, an old-fashioned car bursting into flames.

“I mean, at least he showed some interest. Most of the men there didn’t. Boys.”

“Pool turns into a teenage meat market after about ten. You didn’t know that?”

“So that’s where you go at night. All this week I thought you were actually working.”

The cube switched to an oddly appropriate scene, young people playing volleyball on a beach. Dan turned down the volume. “You can’t talk about what Harry said? Or don’t want to.”

“Can’t. He … didn’t have time to finish, wanted me to hold off talking to anyone else until I had the whole picture.”

“That’s his prerogative, under the circumstances.” He poured me some wine and filled his own glass. “Damned shame. Surprise, too. Total.”

“You didn’t know he was sick?”