XIII

Lise sat cross-legged on the floor at number 505. The door opened and Megan stepped in. Lise stood and Megan approached and opened her arms.

“You're a good hugger, Megan,” Lise said.

“Lise... What's this I hear of a green strike?”

“I'm afraid it's true,” Lise replied. “In a few days.”

“What's a green strike?” Klarissa asked.

“A strike is when a group of workers refuse to show up at their jobs,” Megan explained.

“Green means it'll be novonids who won't be working,” Lise added.

“Lise ... does that mean you won't be coming?”

“I'm not striking. I think it's wrong and I think it'll hurt us.”

“Well, my factory doesn't use novonids. They're old-fashioned that way, I guess, so we won't be affected. Not at first, at least. If some of our suppliers stay shut for long, there may be furloughs.”

“I'll be here, Megan.”

“Lise --don't do anything to expose yourself to danger. Sometimes these strikes can get nasty.”

“I'll be careful.” She knelt and hugged the twins. “See you tomorrow, gang.”

“Not tomorrow,” Megan replied. “Tomorrow's a rest day.”

“Awww...” Klarissa pouted.

“Then the day after.”

Lise walked to the corner. She had developed the habit of looking around for Thom loitering but saw no sign of him. She hopped onto the platform of her bus and rode into downtown Vyonna, where she changed to one heading toward the Zone.

She walked into the courtyard. A crowd of novonid men, women and some adolescent boys were grouped around something. She approached and saw a white man lying on the concrete, dead. His skull had been split open.

“Bounty hunter,” one of them said. “Trann spotted him.”

“I took care of him with this,” another green man replied. He held up a length of iron pipe, filled with polycrete.

Grott pushed his way through the crowd. “He was headed for your place, Grott. He had this.” Trann held out a handgun.

Grott took the gun and emptied its magazine into the grate of a catch-basin. Then he propped the weapon against a concrete block. He took Trann's truncheon, lifted it and brought it down on the gun's barrel with enough force to bend it into a U.

“Hey --what did you do that for?” Trann protested. “That was worth scrip!”

“We don't need any more guns in the Zone,” Grott replied.

Lise knelt by the dead man and withdrew his mediascreen. She pressed a button and the screen illuminated. “Look! This is Tagg's number!”

“Tagg has a bounty on him?” Grott asked. “Does it say how much?”

“No,” Lise replied.

“Must be a big one,” Trann replied, “for a bounty hunter to risk coming into the Zone.”

Grott tucked the man's gun into his waistband. and lifted his shoulders. “Trann --help me carry him into the tunnel. We'll leave him there until after curfew. Then, we'll dump him onto the street.”

Lise turned and started running toward the gate leading outside the Zone. “Where are you going?”

Grott yelled after her.

“Tagg has a bounty on him! I'm going to do something about it!”

She waited at the corner for one of the inbound busses and hopped onto the platform. The bus jostled her as it followed the dilapidated streets past the foundries, brickyards and scrap-metal works in Quadrant Four north of the Zone. She saw the promontory ahead. The bus started into the curve. She pressed the stop request. The bus kept going.

She pounded the stop request and realized it must be broken. “Hey!” she yelled, pounding the rear window. “Stop! Stop the bus!”

A white passenger turned and regarded her, then pressed the stop request inside the coach. The driver pulled to the curb. Lise hopped off and sprinted two long blocks to the steps leading up to Thom's house.

She rang his bell. The door opened “Thom! You have to help me!”

“Help you? How.”

“It's Tagg. We have to rescue him --buy him.”

“Buy him?”

“Yes --for Novonid Rescue. He's been declared renegade with a bounty on his head. You have to buy him and remove the bounty.”

“Slow down, Lise. Tell me what happened.”

“A bounty hunter came looking for Tagg this after. One of the other Zone men killed him.”

“Killed Tagg?”

“No --the bounty hunter.” She let out an exasperated sigh.

“What's Tagg's number?” She handed him the mediascreen. Thom began operating his. “Here we go...” Thom let out a whistle. “Ten thousand... Complaint against him for desertion.” He shook his head and clicked his tongue. “I can't buy him, Lise.”

“Why not? Are you jealous of him because he's my boyfriend?”

Thom gazed at her for a long moment, then returned to his screen. “No, Lise. I can't buy him because he has a complaint lodged against him. Until that is resolved, the title won't transfer. The complaint must be dismissed by his present owner. What did he do to deserve being marked a renegade?”

“He quit his job after being caned.”

“Caned?”

“Whipped ... flogged. You should see his back, Thom --all welts and scars.”

“That sort of thing is criminal. His owner should be filing charges, not blaming the victim.”

“His owner doesn't care. He doesn't care about any of his. He turns them loose in the Zone and collects their wages --that's what he cares about.”

Thom continued to regard the screen. “Stoll Tranya is his owner.” He nodded. “I know Stoll...”

“I thought you said you knew everyone.”

“In fact I do... Stoll is a stubborn, hard-headed man. He's been known to do irrational things ... like putting a ten thousand bounty on a novonid he bought for twelve hundred. I hadn't realized he was a Zoner.” He looked up at Lise. “That's what we call owners who don't provide proper quarters.”

“You said you helped novonids in distress. Tagg is in distress!”

“Stoll's stubbornness is mitigated only by his greed. I'll give him a call and see what we can do.”

“Thom --if you can save Tagg... I'll sleep with you.”

“Lise?”

“He means that much to me. I'll sleep with you, Thom. I've been thinking about what you said about sex and communication. I've decided... It can be a way of saying thank-you.”

“You don't have to, Lise.”

“I know you want it, Thom. You've done so much for me ... for us. There's nothing else I have to give you. I want to ... willingly and eagerly ... if you can save Tagg.”

“I can't give any promises.” He tapped his keypad. A call connected. “Stoll ... Thom Bromen here.”

“Thom --what can I do?”

“I was looking through the list of renegades and noticed one of yours --with quite a hefty bounty.”

“Yeah... That piece of green shit. Do you know where he is?”

“No... Not precisely. Stoll... I was wondering if you'd let me take him off your hands. You only paid twelve hundred for him.”

“And I haven't made a unit back. He's worthless, Thom.”

“You're a natural salesman, Stoll. I'll bid you three thousand for him.”

“Three thousand? You're crazy, Thom.”

“Seems to me you're the crazy one. You've got a ten grand bounty on one you paid twelve hundred for. You'll take a nine grand haircut just to prove a point, yet you won't take three grand to make the problem go away.”

“It's not the money, Thom. It's the principal. He can't get away with this. It's bad for my others.”

“How about I add two grand for principal? Five grand, cash bid. You'll have it tonight.”

“No, Thom. I gotta make an example here.” The call terminated.

Lise groaned. “You couldn't offer him more?”

“Not when Stoll is working on principal. I told you he's a stubborn man.” Thom checked his timepiece. “However, right about now, Stoll's greed should be overtaking his stubbornness.”

“Are you going to call him back?”

“Of course not.” Thom leaned back in his chair and locked his hands behind his head. “I'll let him call me.”

Lise paced. “How much longer?” Thom shrugged.

“He might not call back at all.” An incoming call warbled. Thom waited for the second ring signal and then answered. “Stoll...”

“Seventy-five hundred. That's my ask.”

“Five thousand is a firm bid,” Thom replied. “You won't get a better one.”

There was a long pause. “Six thousand.”

“All right, Stoll,” Thom replied, “done. Take Tagg's number off the renegade list and I'll order the funds transferred. Pleasure doing business with you, Stoll.” He tapped his keypad. Lise stood behind Thom's chair and watched the list of renegades. Tagg's number disappeared from the list. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed the top of his bald head. “Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Now, I'll keep my part of the bargain.”

“I told you, Lise --you don't have to.”

“I want to. I really do, Thom. What you said about chemistry between us? It's true. I am drawn to you. And now, more than ever I want to. You said you'd wait 'til I was ready. Well --I'm ready.”

“The bedroom's upstairs, first door on the left. I'll be up as soon as I finish this transaction.”

Lise mounted the stairs and stepped into Thom's bedroom. It was cleanly but sparsely furnished, with a large bed, nightstand, desk and chair. A sliding door was open. Lise walked through it onto a private balcony overlooking the city. The sun was setting and the sky glowed rose. “Quite a view?” she heard Thom say.

“Very nice. I thought the view was good from the terrace.”

“Lise --I'm going to take a shower first. I've become accustomed to showering before bed. The personal care experts advise against it, because it does terrible things to your hair. I believed them for a while.”

Lise chortled. “Do you want me to bathe, too?”

“It's up to you.”

“I bathed this morning.” She pretended to fluff her hair. “I don't want to get mussed.”

“I won't be long.” He stepped through a door to a private bath. She heard water running. Lise slipped out of her sandals. She removed her bandeau and shorts and set them on the chair. Then, she tested the bed. She seemed to sink into it.

The water shut off. Lise sat on the bed, cross-legged. She pressed her hand to her chest --her heart was pounding.

The bathroom door opened. Thom emerged, a towel around his waist. “It's not too late to call this off.”

“I meant it, Thom. I gave my word, and when I give my word, I keep it.”

“I'll admit, I'm more nervous than I expected I'd be.”

“Me, too.”

“The first time is special.”

“Am I your first novonid?”

“Alas, I wish I could say you were. I'm being honest, Lise. There haven't been many others, though... Certainly none like you.” Lise rolled her eyes upward. “You take that with some skepticism ... you're a bright girl. It is true. May I look at you for a moment?” Lise smiled and shrugged. “Strike some poses for me.”

“What sort of pose?”

“Some that show off what you think are your best features.”

“I don't know what's best. I never thought about it.” Lise sat up, bent one knee and hugged her shin.

“You can do better than that,” Thom remarked.

She bent her knees, arched her back and supported herself with her hands. “Is this better?”

“Much.” Lise stretched on her back, crossed one knee over the other and locked her hands behind her head. “You have a great body, Lise --and you know it. I think you're enjoying showing it off.”

She smiled. “I do a little ... to the right person.” She rolled onto her side and held her knee. “What do you think?”

“I think you're perfection, Lise. There is nothing that would make you more beautiful.” He stood, regarding her. “Your people are incapable of gaining weight --except in the form of muscle. For both sexes the amount of body fat is optimum. It gives you the perfect figure.”

“By design?” she asked.

“Of course. All novonid women are beautiful. You are the most beautiful of a beautiful species. In all my years of working with your people, I've never met your equal.”

“Thom... You're making me blush.”

Thom slipped off the towel. “You'll notice I'm ready.”

“Very ready, by the looks of you.”

“You'll also notice the alopecia affects more of me than just my head. Some white women find it a definite turn-off.”

“I don't. You have a nice physique. When you told me I could beat you wrestling, you must've been exaggerating.”

“I'll challenge you to three rounds and we'll see.” He sat on the bed near her.

“Maybe some other time.” Lise ran her hand along his arm. “You're built like some of the men in the Zone. I think you look sexy, Thom.”

“Really?” She smiled and nodded. “I'm delighted to hear it.”

“If it weren't for your color, you'd look just like one.”

“Lise! That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me.” He lay beside her and cradled her in his arms.

“You are the most beautiful girl. Perfection, that's what you are. Your face, your figure, your legs... I know you're not a virgin. I'm happy for that.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I dislike the notion of taking a woman's virginity.”

“Someone has to do it.” she replied.

“I suppose. Still ... have there been other men besides Tagg?”

“I do rounds with my mother ... from time to time.”

“That's not love-making. That's a gang-bang --it doesn't count.”

Lise smiled. “Only Tagg, then.”

“Is Tagg an experienced lover?”

“Not really. He's somewhat clumsy, actually.”

“Not an uncommon problem.”

“Of course,” she replied, “I would never tell him that.”

“I'm sure you wouldn't. By now no doubt you've discovered that men are afflicted with large and rather tender egos.”

“He is improving.”

“All he needs is some coaching ... and, practice. I've wanted to educate you on your sexuality, Lise. Up to now, it's a topic we put off-limits. This seems like a good time to broach the subject.”

“I suppose it is.”

“Like everything about you, it was done for a reason. Novonid women are more sexual than is typical for white women. Typical, I said --some white women are sexual indeed. This was done on purpose. One of your intended functions was as a sex worker. I think it's ironic that our society builds sexual beings like yourself and then imposes sanctions to stifle that very aspect. It's not anything you can control, Lise. It's wired into your nervous system. Not here...” He pointed to his head. “Not where you think, but here, in the animal part of your brain.” He pointed to the back of his neck. “I have the blueprints in my library. When you tell me you feel chemistry between us, I believe you. You can't help it. You feel it with every man.”

“Yes...”

“It doesn't mean you act on those feelings. Living in a civilized society means we constrain ourselves.”

Thom kissed her brown lips. He kissed her chin and her neck, then between her breasts. Lise realized she was breathing. She had stored enough sunlight to keep her metabolism strictly photosynthetic through the next day, but she was breathing. And, her heart was throbbing. Thom caressed her breasts with the backs of his fingers. Lise felt her body relaxing. She closed her eyes and felt almost as if she were falling.

“This feels good, doesn't it?”

“Oh, yes...”

“You want more, don't you? Both sides...” She licked her lips, swallowed and nodded. “Your brain is flooding itself with endorphins --shutting down your emotional centers. Anger, fear, hate... You're unable to feel any of those, now...” He continued massaging her breasts. “You feel only one thing...”

She nodded and realized that's what happened the previous night, with Tagg.

“I'll imagine your mother taught you to protect certain parts of your body from being touched. This is why. It's why I'd never force myself on a novonid woman. There's no sport in it.”

“So, Thom... This is sport to you?”

He smiled. “No, Lise. I wouldn't force myself on anyone. But it is why it's so difficult proving a rape with a novonid victim is non-consensual.” She felt his lips against her sternum and her abdomen. “Your skin tastes sweet, Lise.” He took her hand and guided it onto his body. “It's all right if you touch me, too. You don't find white skin repulsive, do you?”

“Not yours, Thom,” she replied softly.

Lise ran her hand along his chest. “Do you know, Lise, how much I enjoy feeling your touch --seeing your green fingers against my skin?”

“Do you know, Thom, that you talk too much?”

“I suppose I do...”

Lise lifted her arms and grasped the pillow. Thom smoothed both hands along her sides, exploring the muscles in her abdomen with his thumbs and tracing the gothic arch of her ribcage. Lise's breathing was deepening, as was her relaxation. She reached up, smoothed her hand along Thom's bald head and drew his face to her breast. “That's it,” he said, if you know what you want --ask for it...” He kissed her.

“Your heart is pounding. Are you frightened?”

“No... Not now. Oh, Thom... I've never felt anything like this in my life.”

“You're just getting started.” He placed his hand on her knee. “I love novonid skin,” he said. “Yours is so smooth, and such a pretty color...” Thom caressed her thigh. “And, you have such lovely, long, sleek legs...” He worked his hand higher and higher along the inside of her thigh. Then, he cupped his palm over her mons and Lise felt his finger probing her.

He began stroking. “Thom ... Thom, what are you doing?”

“Why --I am endeavoring, my dear Lise, to bring you to orgasm...”

“It's too intense --it doesn't feel good.”

“I'll lighten my touch a bit ... is that better?” She moistened her lips with her tongue and nodded. “You have never experienced orgasm --have you?”

“I don't know,” she panted.

“If you had --you'd know. You're an open-minded girl, Lise. Just relax and go along for the ride. There ... it's starting to feel good, now --isn't it?”

Lise licked her lips again and nodded. Her heart was accelerating. She needed more air --her lips parted and her breathing deepened. Tension was draining from her muscles and pooling in the bowl of her pelvis.

Thom held her around her back and gazed into her eyes. Her breathing became panting, and Lise felt a deepening throbbing low in her abdomen, stronger than she had experienced before. It felt good but the intensity became almost uncomfortable, straddling the line between pleasure and pain. Now, her heart was racing. Each of his strokes reverberated in her thigh muscles.

The sensation sharpened. The closest she could recall was that of a too-full bladder, but this wasn't quite like that, either. Thom increased the pace of his stroking and she began making soft whimpers in the back of her throat.

“Go with the sensations, Lise,” Thom coached. “Don't fight it --just let it happen...”

She started to feel tension in the backs of her thighs. She closed her eyes, bit her lip and was about to cry out...

Then --release. Waves of pleasure radiated from her pelvis through all the muscles in her body, like waves in a tub bouncing back and reinforcing each other. She arched her back and groaned; and felt spasms in her pelvic floor from muscles she didn't realize she had.

She gasped, panted, held onto Thom and cried, “Stop! Oh, Thom! It's too much.”

Lise panted to catch her breath, but before she could Thom was atop her and filling her. He began working his toes under her heel. She accepted the invitation and locked her legs with his.

“Lise --do you have any idea what a thrill this is?”

“Some idea,” she gasped.

Thom began rocking his hips, supporting himself on his elbows. Lise put both hands against his chest and smoothed them along his skin. “You can use a heavier hand, Lise. Men like a firmer touch...” Now she could feel his heart accelerate. He closed his eyes and lifted his face. “Mmm... That's it. This is wonderful, Lise...” He held her around her shoulders and Lise felt his weight and warmth against her body.

Lise held him across his back as he increased the vigor of his thrusting. She felt tension in her pelvis again --more diffuse this time, but building. She wanted release but it wasn't happening. Thom continued his thrusting. She strenghtened her grip on Thom's legs with hers and began pushing against him. Then, she pushed Thom off of her and onto his back. She climbed atop him, rocked and rotated her hips until she found the stimulation she sought. Lise pushed hard against him, grunting with each thrust.

“Lise!” Thom exclaimed. “That's the spirit!”

Lise doubled and redoubled the vigor of her thrusting. Droplets of perspiration formed on her temples and the small of her back. Her own climax was moments away. She bit her lip and concentrated, tensing her thighs in an attempt to bring it closer.

Then, Thom grasped her buttocks and pressed his hips hard against hers. “Oh, Lise!” he grunted and she felt the unmistakable sensation of his release. An instant and a half later, pleasure waves began washing again over her own body. She gasped, moaned and fell limp against him.

“Wow!” Thom exclaimed. “Exquisitely done! Have you ever experienced sex like that before, Lise?”

“Never,” she gasped.

“I'll bet you never expected you had it in you.”

“No... I astonished myself.”

“I'm not astonished,” Thom replied. “I'm not surprised at all. You were simply following the program wired into your medulla. It appears you needed some instruction, too, Lise --to show you how to unlock that which your designers built...”

She pressed her finger against his lips. “Will you shut up about my designers! I swear, Thom --you have to be the most pompous, arrogant, egotistical, self-important ... windbag I have ever known.”

Thom gazed at her, his mouth attempting to form words. “Is ... is that how you really feel about me, Lise?” he finally asked.

“Oh, Thom... Nobody's perfect. I put up with it because ... because you've done so much good.”

“I love you, Lise,” he said.

“I know you do. I love you, too, Thom --despite your faults.”

“I love every part of you ... all of you. I love your people.”

“I believe you. With all you've done for us ... done for me I have no doubt.”

“Oh, how I wish I were one of you.”

“That I can't believe.”

“Your kind will rule this world some day, Lise. It's been set into motion and nothing can stop it.”

A shaft of sunlight crossed her eyes and roused Lise. She looked to her left and saw Thom, sleeping on his back. She arose and stepped through the doors to the balcony and stood, nude with her arm across her chest. The Zone was quiet. Outside the Zone, streetlamps were winking off and the busses beginning their morning runs.

She went inside and down the stairs to Thom's library. His big mediascreen caught her eye. She switched it on and brought up the main menu, curious to see to what additional services he subscribed. One was the exchange auction. She selected it and was requested a password. This she cancelled and reviewed the items on the menu.

She spied an entry for Novonid Rescue. This one yielded several more. She selected one titled Newsletter. The publication was displayed and she immediately recognized the cover art. It was the sketch Tagg had done of her at the abandoned hotel --the one in which she stood by the broken window.

Lise turned and regarded the shelves of ancient books and note binders. Something caught her eye -a large folder. She removed it and opened it. All of Tagg's sketches of her, all the nudes were there. She withdrew the one of her by the window and examined it. Tagg hadn't left anything out. She saw the scars on her abdomen ... a birthmark on her breast ... her registration number. Tagg! she thought. He should've obliterated it.

“There you are,” Thom said from the library doorway. “I'm going to make breakfast. Come join me in the kitchen.”

She picked up the folder and followed him.

“I'm making a sea prawn and pomma pilaf,” he said. “I usually have my main meal of the day at breakfast and then snack for lunch and dinner. Would you like anything?”

“No, thanks... Maybe something small.” Lise sat at the table and held the folder on her lap. Thom warmed some of the protein strands and put them in a bowl. He dumped his breakfast from a pan onto his plate and sat across from her. “You certainly brighten my breakfast table. I wouldn't mind seeing you sitting there every day.”

“Are you inviting me to move in?”

“If you desire to, I wouldn't turn you away. As I said --you set the pace, Lise.” He sipped his pomma brew. “How did you sleep?”

“Very well.”

“Lise ... last night ... any regrets?”

“I am sorry I called you pompous, Thom. I regret that.”

“I've been called worse... Other than that?”

She smiled and shook her head. “No ... none.”

“Do you see now how artificial is our society's taboo --how ridiculous is the law against the fraternizing of our kinds?”

“Please, Thom --not another lecture.”

“I'm sorry, Lise. It was my inner windbag speaking.”

“Oh, Thom... I hope I didn't wound you too badly with my remark last night.”

“No, Lise --it was a kindness. I need to be reminded that not everyone likes to hear my voice as much as I do. I will say this, though. There are many mixed couples living and loving in secret. Those I've interviewed all say the same thing --how satisfying is their physical love and what an important dimension it is to their relationships.”

“They confide in you?” Lise asked.

“Of course they do. They know me and they trust me. One of these days I'll write a book about their stories.”

“Does that mean last night will become a chapter in your book?”

“Not if you don't wish it, Lise.”

“These books you're writing, Thom --are they real?”

“Of course they are. Why would you think not?”

“Dawn's light waked me. You were still sound asleep, so I wandered into your library. There I found something interesting.”

“What's that?” She held up the folder. “Oh, THAT.” He gave her a sheepish smile.

“You must've been stalking me from the beginning.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“I'll bet you knew ahead of time the answers to that guessing game you played with me.”

“I hate to lose.”

“And, I suspect your interviews were ploys to get me alone with you.”

“You're a smart girl, Lise. No, the book is real. I can show you the manuscript. It's a work-in-progress but it is no lie.” Thom opened the folder and withdrew Tagg's drawing of her standing by the broken window. “I fell in love with this sketch, Lise. I traced the registration number and couldn't believe it when it matched one of a young woman whose description matched the sketch.”

“Tagg should've obliterated it ... or changed it.”

“Tagg? The young man we rescued last night did these? Your boyfriend?”

“The very same.”

“Then, I'm happy we did. He's a talented artist who deserves to pursue his art.”

“He can't to that very easily bussing tables,” Lise replied.

“I suppose he can't. I traced your number and discovered you were recently registered to Ramina. She told me you were babysitting for a single mother in Quadrant Three. I knew all about you before we first met. Believe me, Lise ... I might have been smitten by the sketch, but it's you I love. Are you angry with me?”

“No... It doesn't surprise me. In fact, it's in perfect character for you.”

“I told you from the start when I want something I usually get it.”

“I do think you owe Tagg royalties for using his sketch on your newsletter.”

“Hmm... You're probably right. What do you think is fair?”

“How about ... six thousand, to be applied toward his freedom?” Lise stood behind Thom, wrapped her arms around him and kissed his head and neck.

“Fair enough if he'll accept it.”

“I'll ask him when I see him. Since today's a rest day, there's no hurry for me to go home.”

“Unfortunately it's no rest day for me. I have work to do.”

“On your book?” she asked.

“If only it were something so pleasant... No, it's more serious business.”

“Then, I'll head back to the zone.” She bent and kissed his lips. “I had a wonderful time last night, Thom. I've learned so much from you.”

Lise strolled from the bus stop into the courtyard. Grott and Rayla were sunning themselves. “Good morning,” Lise said.

“Where have you been?” Rayla asked. “You ran out of here and never came back.”

“I spent the night with Thom.”

“Your white friend?” Rayla asked. “Oh, Lise! You didn't!”

“Didn't what?”

“You know full well what I mean!”

“Why? Does it show?”

“It's written all over your face. Lise! How could you?”

“How could she what?” Grott asked.

“She slept with a white man.”

Darkness spread across Grott's brow. “Then, you're not sleeping in my house.”

“I did it for Tagg!”

“You did what for me?” Tagg bounded up the steps and into the courtyard.

“You're free, Tagg. You're free from that odious owner of yours. You can devote your time to your art. The bounty's been lifted.”

“She paid for your so-called freedom with her honor,” Grott sneered.

“Lise --you shouldn't have.”

“Tagg --I thought you'd be happy. You wanted freedom. Now you can forget this Mott nonsense and be what you wanted to be. You and I can rent a room outside the Zone. You can have a real studio, Tagg.”

“I have freedom. I'm as free as I need to be already. I'm part of Mott's gang. No one can touch me. Not the bounty hunters --no one. I didn't need you to sleep with some white goucher .”

“Tagg ... Mother ... Father... You don't understand. Thom's not any white. He's on our side. He's more one of us than one of them. He's helped countless of ours.”

“You mean he's helped himself to countless,” Tagg replied. “I can't bear the thought of you being soiled like this. I'm getting my things and I'm going.”

Tagg bounded down the steps. He returned with an armload of his clothing. “I should've left the other night,” he said and headed toward the far end of the Zone.

Lise sat on a bench, her face buried in her hands. “It's my body,” she said. “I can do with it what I please, and it pleased me to sleep with Thom.”

The warning chimes sounded. “Lise...” Rayla approached her. “Lise, come inside.”

“You heard what Father said.”

“He said it in haste. Neither of us want you to spend the night out here. Come along.”

“Do you think what I did was really so wrong? Thom's a good man. He's helped me ... he's helped all of us, and I love him.”

“I thought you loved Tagg.”

“I do. All I wanted to do was to get the bounty lifted.”

“Was that the bargain? Your honor to lift Tagg's bounty.”

“Honor? What is honor? No, Mother. I love Thom, too. How does it damage my honor to make love with a man I love? What difference does the color of his skin make?”

“We live in two societies, Lise.”

“It's one world and one society, Mother. And, why does it have to be one and only one man?”

“That is the generally accepted arrangement.”

“It was a one-time thing with Thom.”

“So you say. One time 'til the next time.”

“Maybe I should go to his house and not come back.”

“You could've gone there. The chimes have sounded and it'll be curfew soon. Now, you dare not leave the Zone.” Rayla sat beside her daughter and put her hand on Lise's knee. “I think you need to choose the life you want to lead. You can be the kept mistress of a wealthy white man, or you can be poor and free, here in the Zone. You can't live in two worlds.”

“There is a third way, Mother. Tagg is a good artist. He can make real money selling his art. We can find a place outside the Zone. With my work and his art, we can afford it. Why doesn't he want that?”

“He may yet. Give him time. Remember, the more you have, the more you have to lose.”

“That sounds like Father talking.”

“If you want to make a life with Tagg, you had better make your peace with him. If that means forswearing Thom, so be it.”

“I know.”

The curfew siren sounded.

“Come inside, dear,” Rayla said. “The night's long and dangerous.”

Lise stood and embraced her mother. “You're a good friend.” She walked to the steps and barred the door behind her.

XIV

“Lise! Grott!” Lise awakened to her mother calling.

“What is it?” she asked, pulling aside the sheet to her room.

Rayla was holding her mediascreen. “The pomma farms --they're all on lockdown!”

“Lockdown?” Grott asked. “All of them?”

“All within five hundred kilometres of Vyonna.”

“Someone must've got wind of the strike.”

“Yes --one of the farms struck a day early.”

“The idiots! There goes the element of surprise.”

“What does lockdown mean?” Lise asked.

“They bar the doors to the farm workers' barracks and close the shutters. The workers are locked inside, away from sunlight. I was in a lockdown, once. It's terrifying. You're shut in the dark --you lose track of time, of the sun rising and setting. Then, the sun hunger sets in. It takes a strong worker not to crack after three or four days.”

“So, Mott has lost the farms,” Lise remarked.

“Right. Before the pomma crop is ruined, it'll be worker turning on worker in the barracks. They'll hand over the strike organizers and it'll be over. They'll be begging to go back to the fields. Without the threat to the pomma crop, the city strike will have no teeth. None at all.”

“The strike's a failure before it started,” Lise replied. “They might as well call it off.”

“And, regroup for another day,” Grott added. “That won't happen. Mott has whipped those hotheads into a frenzy.”

Lise headed up the steps to bathe. She spotted Tagg heading toward the building. He stopped and faced her. “It's not going to work, Tagg,” she said. “Leave this bunch. Come back and do what you're good at doing.”

“No.”

“You've lost the farms, Tagg. Before the strike started you lost the farms.”

“It only makes it more important that we all go out tomorrow. All of us, Lise. You, too. That's why I'm here. I want to know you'll go out with us.”

“I'm not striking, Tagg. I have no complaint with Megan.”

“She's white. That's complaint enough.”

“She's my friend. She's a mom who needs work. Her kids need watching.”

“It's all for one and one for all, Lise. I was up all night. I need sleep.” He pushed past her and down the steps.

“Tagg!” Lise shouted after him. “I thought you said you were moving out!”

“He's welcome here,” Rayla replied.

Lise bathed and dressed. “Mother --I'm going.” She headed back up the steps and toward the gate leading from the Zone. A group of novonid men loitered around the gateway. She looked them over. They were a motley bunch, with many unregistereds among them.

She passed through the crowd. “Strike tomorrow,” they chanted.

Lise made her way to the corner and waited for the bus. Her ride to Megan's house was uneventful. She rang the bell. Megan greeted her with an embrace.

“The strike is all that's on the news this morning,” Megan said. “It seems somehow someone let it slip.”

“Yes --one of the pomma farms struck a day early. I don't think it'll amount to anything. Some of the factories in Quadrant Four will be shut for a few days.”

“Do you expect violence?”

“I don't know. I expect to be here tomorrow.”

Megan headed out her door. Lise sat on the sofa and flicked on the mediascreen.

“Hey!” Klarissa said, “I thought you didn't like watching.”

“This is the news,” Lise replied.

“The news is boring,” Geddes added. “Let's go to the park.”

“When I want to go to the park, you want to watch. Now I want to watch and you want to go to the park.”

“Let's watch Jaks.”

“No, Geddes. I want to watch the news.”

“Why?” asked Klarissa.

“Because it's about the strike. Please be quiet and let me watch. Go look at a book or something.”

Lise watched the news reports. Klarissa sat on the floor with her back against Lise's shins.

“Lise?”

“Yes, Klarissa?”

“What are they saying about the strike?”

“They're interviewing people ... both humans and novonids. The consensus is that it's the Zone that'll be striking.”

“What's the Zone?”

“The Green Zone --the part of the city reserved for novonids.”

“Is that where you live?”

“Yes, Klarissa.”

“I thought you said you weren't going to strike.”

“I'm not. Not everyone in the Zone agrees with the strike. I think it'll be just a couple of factories that will strike.”

“Why?”

“Because these factories hire lots of workers from the Zone who are likely to strike. Klarissa --I want to listen to this. When this news report is over, we'll go to the park and then I'll make your lunch. Okay?”

“Okay...”

Lise heard Megan unlock the front door. “How did it go?”

“Fine,” Lise replied.

“What's the word on the strike?”

“The city wants to make sure anyone who wants to work will be able to. They're assigning constable's deputies to ride the busses.”

“You mean on the back?”

“Yes, where we ride.”

Megan laughed. “It'll serve them right. I never knew why you had to ride there.”

“The fare's affordable,” Lise replied. “I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Good luck. Lise --don't do anything foolish.”

“I won't.”

“We should go to the bus stop together tomorrow,” Rayla said. “Some of them might try blocking the path, but they won't get in Grott's way.”

“Or, we could use the tunnel,” Lise replied. “Not everyone knows about it.”

“It'll be interesting,” Grott said. “We might as well turn in. We'll see what tomorrow brings.”

Lise stretched out on her mattress. She wished Tagg were there, but imagined he'd spend all night in meetings with Mott or his henchmen, planning strategies to attempt to enforce the strike. She closed her eyes and willed herself to sleep.

Morning's light woke her and she could hear a commotion outside and chanting of “Strike! Strike!

Strike!” She performed her morning routine and joined Grott and Rayla as they headed toward the path leading from the Zone. Grott had armed himself with a piece of iron pipe. A mob of novonid men and boys milled around the gate leading outside the Zone. The three of them paused. “They look nastier than I figured,” Grott said.

“I hope the fervor fades in a few days,” Rayla replied.

Lise spotted a young novonid male hanging back from the crowd. He approached them. “There's no way through,” he said. “All the entrances are blocked.”

“Come through with us,” Grott said. The young man shook his head.

“You two go through,” Lise suggested. “I'll take him with me through the tunnel.”

She watched as Grott and Rayla approached the mob. Grott took Rayla's hand and walked through. The crowd parted to let him pass.

“They won't mess with him,” Lise said. “Follow me.”

She led the young man into one of the other buildings, down into the basement and through passageways. She picked up one of the sticks and felt her way through the tunnel until she saw light filtering from the street.

Lise set down the stick and climbed the steps. At the corner was a smaller crowd harassing those awaiting the bus. One of the coaches lumbered down the street and stopped at the corner. Lise grabbed the young man's hand and made a dash for the bus. She felt hands grabbing for her and feet trying to trip her but she made it to her goal and climbed onto the platform. Standing there was a constable with his weapon drawn. It was the first time in her life she was happy to see one. He smiled and nodded at her. She grabbed the overhead rail and held on as the bus pulled from the corner. Megan greeted Lise with a hug. “I see you made it.”

“No real problem,” Lise replied.

“It's pretty quiet in this part of town.”

“It's pretty raucous over in Quadrant Four.”

“I hear some of the farms are back to normal operation already.”

“Yes,” Lise replied. “It's playing out about how Grott expected it would.”

“Who?”

“My stepfather. He spent time on a farm before coming to the city. The farms have hundreds of years of experience in dealing with this sort of thing. They just locked them down --shut them into the barracks without sunlight. A white person can't appreciate how distressing it is for us to be locked in a dark room.”

“They need to lock the strikers in a dark room.”

“That's the trouble here in the city. There isn't that sort of control.”

“Lise --I'm surprised to hear you talk that way.”

It's the few that spoil it for the many", Lise replied.

“I suggest you stay indoors today,” Megan added. “No sense asking for trouble. I even told the children they could watch Jaks.”

Lise sat in the courtyard soaking up the last strong rays of sunshine. Her mother sat beside her with her mediascreen. “Grott pegged it,” she said. “The only disruptions were to the factories here in Quadrant Four. In a few days the fervor will burn itself out and we'll be back to normal. So far, we've avoided bloodshed. That's good.”

“The constables on the busses help,” Lise added.

“Yes... I never expected to be happy to see a deputy.”

“We should go below and lock up,” Grott said. “Just in case things get rowdy after dark.”

Grott followed Lise and Rayla into the basement. He dropped the bar across the door.

“Maybe we should turn in early and get up early,” Lise suggested. “We can beat the mobs to the bus stop. I wonder how long it'll take them to figure out about that tunnel.”

Lise stretched out on her mattress. Dusk had given way to night. She closed her eyes and attempted to sleep. She was beginning to drowse when pounding on the door snapped her awake.

“Lise! Open up!”

She lifted the bar and let Tagg into the basement. He carried a backpack.

“Tagg! What are you doing here?”

“Waiting. I have a mission.” He opened his pack, withdrew a lump of charcoal and began blackening his face with it.

“What mission?”

“We're going to blow up the Quadrant Four Safety Building.”

“WHAT?”

“You heard what I said.”

“The constables?”

“Precisely.” He took a brick-shaped object from his pack. “I have fifty kilos of high explosive here.”

“Where did you get that?”

“From Mott. He supplied it. We're going to show them we're a force to be reckoned with.”

“Don't do this, Tagg. This isn't the way. None of this is the way.”

“It's the only way, Lise.”

“Tagg --if you do this, it's over between us. I won't have anything to do with it or with you.”

“Too late. It's going to be glorious, Lise. First we set charges on the security pylons that watch the Zone. Those are going down, one after another. That'll draw the deputies out of the Safety Building. We'll go in and BOOM! I'm in charge of one of the pylons. We assemble as soon as curfew sounds.”

The warning chimes reverberated across the city. “Not long, now! See you later, Lise.”

Tagg packed the block into his pack and headed up the steps.

“Mother! Father!” Lise yelled.

“What is it?” Grott came from his room.

“It's Tagg --They're going to bomb the Safety Building. You've got to stop him.”

Grott grabbed his length of pipe and headed up the steps. He returned a short time later. “No sign of him.”

“Use your mediascreen,” Lise said. “Call the constables and warn them.”

She grabbed it. “Low battery,” she said. “I was using it all afternoon to follow the news and didn't have the charger.”

The curfew siren wailed. “Shall we risk breaking curfew to warn them?” Lise asked.

“No,” Grott replied. “We'll just have to let this play out.”

Lise paced around the basement, chewing her lip. “How much longer?”

It wasn't much longer. She felt the concussion a split-second before hearing the blast. Then another and another --six in all, followed by the wail of sirens.

“That was Tagg's doing?” Grott asked.

“I ... I'm afraid so.”

Grott shook his head. “I don't know what thrall this Mott holds over the young ones.”

Then, there was a flash in the sill windows, followed by a grunting thud and a blast that shook the foundation and dislodged dust and bits of concrete.

“A force to be reckoned with, are they? Now we'll see who's a force to be reckoned with.”

XV

Dawn twilight began to fill the basement through the sill windows. Then came an unfamiliar sound -the whine of turbines. Lise jumped up and peered out the window. She saw trucks.

“They've opened the main barricade,” Grott said.

“The one closing off the Zone from the rest of the city?” Rayla asked.

“Yes.”

Amplified announcements could be heard. “Attention. The city of Vyonna is now under a state of emergency. A dusk-to-dawn curfew is now in effect. All registered novonids living within the Green Zone must report to their owners by sundown tomorrow.” The announcement repeated itself.

“Report to our owners?” Rayla said.

“In my case,” Lise replied, “it's Novonid Rescue. That must mean Thom Bromen.”

“I suspect we should pack some clothes.”

“Mother --make sure you bring your mediascreen and the charger. Keep the battery charged.” Lise grabbed some shorts and bandeaus and packed them into a polymer sack. She pulled her stash of scrip cards from under her mattress. “Here...” She handed some to her parents. “In case you need it.” She pocketed the rest and took the card with Megan's call number.

“Let's go,” Grott said.

The three of them headed toward the gate leading to the bus stop. A crowd was there, but this time it was of constable's deputies in full riot gear holding long arms. A growing line of novonids waited to pass through the gate.

Lise reached the checkpoint. A deputy keyed in her registration number. “Novonid Rescue. What the f....”

“Thom, Lord Bromen,” Lise replied.

“Bromen... Okay, find your bus.”

She turned and saw Grott and Rayla speaking with deputies. Her mother was arguing with one. He was blocking her path with his baton.

“What's the matter?” Lise asked.

“He ... he said my number is invalid!”

“Go on ... back into the Zone.”

Lise looked at her stepfather. “You'd better find your bus,” she said. “When I see Thom I'll tell him about this. He'll know what to do.”

Grott nodded and squeezed Lise's shoulder.

Lise embraced Rayla. It was the first time she could recall seeing fear in her mother's eyes. “Don't worry, Mother. Thom will know what to do. Hang onto your mediascreen. Keep it charged up and I'll be in touch.”

Rayla turned and headed back toward the courtyard. Lise crossed the street and waited for the inbound coach. It pulled to the corner and she hopped onto the platform at the back. She regarded the factories along the route, now deserted because of the state of emergency. The bus entered the curve approaching Thom's house. She pressed the stop request. This time it worked and the bus pulled to the side of the road.

Lise hopped off and mounted the steps to the promontory. Thom's red roadster sat in the drive. She rang the bell.

Thom opened the door. “Lise! What are you doing here?”

“They're evacuating the Zone,” she replied. “We've been ordered to go to our owners. Since that's Novonid Rescue in my case, and since...”

“Fine, fine. Come in. Lise --I'm sorry, but I'm awfully busy right now. Make yourself at home.”

“Thom... My mother was turned back into the zone.”

“What?”

“They're turning all unregistereds back into the Zone. They couldn't find my mother's number on the register.”

Thom cradled his head in his hand. “Lise --I really have more important things to do right now.”

“More important than helping my mother?”

“What's her number?” Lise jotted it onto a polycard. Thom manipulated his mediscreen. “I don't see it here.”

“That can't be right,” Lise replied. “She's been registered for years.”

“Who's her owner?”

“I can't recall the name. He's the same as my stepfather's.”

“Do you have his number?” Lise jotted it on the card. “Let's see... Yes, here's Grott. I'll cross reference his owner... Rayla, right?”

“Yes!”

“Here she is. For some reason the number never transferred to the registry master list. I'll open a trouble call...” He manipulated his screen. “There ... Someone in BSS administration will take care of it.”

“Thank you, Thom. I knew you'd know what to do. I'll call Mother. How long will it take to fix it?”

“A few days.”

“A few days? They said the Zone had to be evacuated by sundown tomorrow!”

“Lise... I've done what I can.”

“Can anyone look up the registry?”

“Yes...” He pointed to the screen. “You request the BSS directory and it's under Registry. Now, I really have other things to deal with. If you'll excuse me...”

“Can I use your mediphone?”

“Go ahead, but keep it short.”

She punched in her mother's call number. “Mother ... It's Lise. It was a mixup with the registry. Thom has put in a request to have it fixed. He said it could take a day or two.”

“Thank goodness it was only that,” Rayla replied. “I was afraid... Lise --they're turning more of us back into the Zone. Folks are getting worried.”

“Thom's busy but I'll speak to him about it. He needs to make calls and I need to call Megan. I'll speak to you later, Mother.”

“Okay, Lise.”

She pulled the card with Megan's number from her shorts and keyed it in. The call connected.

“Megan --it's Lise.”

“Lise --are you all right?”

“Yes, but we've been ordered to our owners.”

“It's okay, Lise. My factory is shut due to the state of emergency. I'm happy to hear you're all right. I heard about the explosions in your quadrant.”

“Lise,” Thom said, “Do you mind?”

She looked up at Thom. “Someone needs to use this, Megan. I'll keep in touch.” She terminated the call. “Thom... What about everyone else who's being sent back into the Zone?”

“I know about it... I'm doing what I can.”

“Are you working with the authorities for a solution?”

“Yes, Lise.”

She let out a sigh of relief. “Good. I feel better, now. I'm sure with your influence you'll get it resolved.” She walked behind his chair, draped her arms around his shoulders and kissed his neck. He caressed her forearm.

“Lise ... I have to ask you to stay on the upper level of the house. I'll have meetings and the like downstairs. You can use the guest bedroom on the second level.”

“You don't want me sharing your bed? I'll be happy to.”

“My schedule is going to be crazy for the next few days.” He squirmed from under her arms. “Please, Lise... I must get this work done.”

“Okay... May I use the terrace?”

“Go ahead, Lise.”

“I'll get some sun.” She rubbed her arms. “I've been feeling a bit sun-hungry lately.”

She stepped out onto the terrace and looked down. She could see the constable's trucks patrolling the main streets of the Zone, and the crowd of novonids waiting to pass through the checkpoints. Her eye scanned rightward, toward the woods of native cycads. Then she looked toward the horizon and saw where the city ended and a savanna of wild pomma grew. In the distance she could make out some of Varada's fauna, grazing on the pomma heads.

Lise strolled the terrace. Concrete planters, long neglected were overgrown with trash plants. She stepped inside.

“Thom --I like being busy in the sun. Would you mind if I tended your garden?”

“Fine, Lise...”

Lise stepped back onto the terrace and began pulling the weeds from the planters. There wasn't a single, attractive plant among them. She looked at the empty planters, and had an idea. She recalled her garden in the courtyard, the one she had sown with varieties of wild pomma. With care and cultivation those plants could be quite attractive, and she knew they grew along the streets in the Zone. She could probably find some here.

Down the steps to the street she bounded, and then paused. She hadn't noticed it before, but there appeared to be a trail leading toward the woods and the pomma savanna. Lise headed in that direction and noticed a marker --a wand planted in the ground with a red reflector. Ahead a distance was another wand.

She followed the wands, collecting seeds from likely-looking specimens along her way. Then, she stopped short. She hadn't walked far, she realized, but the topography had been deceptive and it appeared further than it was.

She was looking at the old, deserted hotel, but from the other side of the fence that separated the city from the countryside. The whine of a turbine grew near as a truck barreled down the broken and overgrown street. Lise crouched, hiding among the shoulder-high pomma plants. Deputies, carrying long arms piled out of the truck and into the old hotel.

A pair of young novonid men appeared from behind some debris. They ran to a break in the fence and pushed through it, and then started running through the wild pomma, away from the city. One of the corpsmen nudged his partner; then raised his long arm and squeezed off a few rounds in their direction. The men kept running.

Through the pomma heads she peered. The corpsmen entered the hotel, leaving their vehicle deserted. Convinced the coast was clear, she turned and headed back to the house. By the time she reached the top of the steps, Thom's speedster was gone.

She planted the seeds and headed to the house to find something in which to carry water. She looked around the lower level of the house. Yes, she remember that Thom had asked her to keep to the upper levels, but she couldn't disturb him if he weren't here. Lise hadn't seen this part of the house before. She walked along a short corridor to a pair of doors. One was locked --for a reason, she figured. From the kitchen she fetched a panful of water and carried it to the planters and dumped it onto the freshly planted soil.

She was beginning to feel full of sunshine, so she went inside to explore the house some more. The bed in the guestroom was as soft as Thom's. Then, into the library she wandered and sat before the mediascreen.

Lise turned on the news broadcast and saw images taken from hovering aircraft. She could see the crowd of novonids being processed by the deputies, and the trucks and other vehicles on the streets inside the Zone.

Then came a report of a weapons cache discovered at the abandoned hotel, along with more explosives. The deputies had been fired upon from the hotel and were in the process of securing it when the guns had been discovered. Several novonids had been killed. She wondered if Tagg was among them.

Another report showed the collapsed security pylons and the bombed-out Safety Building. A dozen deputies, several civilians and some jailed arrestees had been casualties in the explosion. She turned off the screen and paced. Here she was, alone in a house of luxury. She dared not leave it, not with tensions as high as they were. There was nothing she could do but wait. Lise climbed the stairs to Thom's bedroom and stepped onto the balcony in order to watch events unfold in the Zone. Sporadic sounds of small-arms fire snapped and popped above the distant hubbub and the whine of turbines. Rotary-wing aircraft hovered overhead.

Then, she heard turbines approaching. They were quite close and then they shut down. She recognized the sound as that of Thom's Drumm speedster. The car door slammed and she heard footfalls in the house.

She ran to him. “Thom! Thom! Do you know what's going on?”

“Of course I do. This is terrible ... terrible. Lise --I've been meeting with the prefects. The white community is divided on this. The owners are up in arms --they don't want to see this...”

“See what?”

“They're planning on demolishing the Zone.”

“Demolish it?”

“Start at one end and burn it down, flatten it, turn it into an open field.”

“Thom --what about those sent back into the Zone. What'll happen to them?” He turned from her.

“Are they going to burn the unregistereds with the buildings?”

“They want blood. They're still counting casualties from the Safety Building.”

“Those are innocent people, Thom. My mother is among them. She didn't do ANYTHING, Thom!

It's Mott and his gang who are to blame.”

“They can't separate them from the rest. Lise --I can't talk now. I'm doing all I can ... we're doing all we can. I'm hoping cooler heads will begin to prevail.”

Dusk fell and Vyonna became eerily quiet. Lise strolled the terrace. Other than aircraft hovering over the Zone and sweeping it with floodlights there was no activity. The streets outside the zone were deserted from the extended curfew.

“Lise!” Thom approached her. “Lise --I have to go out for a while.”

“But the curfew... That's right. You're exempt.”

“I'm apt to be gone most of the evening.”

“I'll be all right. I was going to bed soon anyway.”

He turned and headed back into the house. Lise stepped from the terrace, closed and locked the doors leading to it and climbed the stairs to the guest room she was using. She undressed and lay on the bed, her hands laced behind her neck and closed her eyes.

Sleep didn't come. She thought about the situation in the Zone, of her mother, of the unregistereds, of what Thom said about destroying it. And, the children. How could you differentiate children of registereds from unregistereds?

Lise tried to drive these thoughts from her head. Slowly she banished them, closed her eyes and drowsed.

The thoughts returned and awakened her. She sat up, unaware of the time. Now, she was wide awake. Perhaps a stroll outside would help her clear her head.

She unlocked the doors to the terrace and stepped out. Aircraft still hovered over the Zone, flashing their floodlights. Then, something blinked in the corner of her eye. Her gaze shifted to the right, to where the wild pomma gave way to the cycad woods. She saw it again --a sparkle of red light. Then again, closer, and again closer yet. She realized what it was. Someone was walking the same trail she had walked earlier in the day. Whoever was carrying a hand-held infra-red lamp and using it to activate the wands to find the trail. Lise crouched low to conceal herself behind the terrace wall. She peered over it to see if she could discern the figure. No --she couldn't see, but she could hear footfalls on the steps leading up to the house.

She moved to another spot on the terrace and crouched low. From this spot she could glimpse the back doorway leading into the house. The figure approached. She let out a sigh of relief upon seeing Thom's bald head as he used his passcard to open the door and step inside. Then, she realized --it wasn't a white head she had seen but a green one. Someone --a novonid -had walked from the Zone, from where the old hotel stood --from Mott's domain, to Thom's house. Lise wondered if perhaps Thom were brokering a truce between the strikers and the city. One thing for sure --she didn't like the idea of a strange novonid man in the house. She remembered what Thom had said --that she wasn't his first novonid woman. Perhaps his association with the green community was closer than she had imagined.

Lise thought it prudent to shut herself in the guestroom until morning. Back there she crept, latching the terrace doors behind her. Once in the guest room she closed and secured the door. Then, she flopped on the bed and with effort forced herself to sleep.

Dawn's light roused her. She figured out how to operate the shower in the guest room bath and dressed in fresh shorts and bandeau. The house was deserted again, and Thom's car was gone. She wondered how much longer this would go on.

After carrying water to the terrace garden she flopped on a sofa in the living room and switched on the mediascreen. The state of emergency was the topic of the news broadcasts. It was organized confusion, she thought.

The dissonant whine of the Drumm roadster's dual turbines approached and quieted. Lise heard Thom tread into the house and head for his office. She followed him there.

“Thom --who came in last night?”

“What?”

“Last night --I ... heard someone come in.”

“It was me.”

“No, Thom. It was a novonid. I glimpsed what looked like a novonid coming into the house.”

“No, Lise. You must've dreamt it or imagined it. Last night I was in contact with some of the insurgents...”

“Mott's gang?”

“Call them what you want. I got home very late.”

“So it was only you?”

“Of course, Lise --only me.”

She pressed her hand above her breast. “That's a relief. Maybe all this has me seeing things. I couldn't sleep thinking a strange man was in the house.”

“You are perfectly safe here.”

“I worry about mother.”

Thom opened his arms and she fell into them. “I'm worried about her, too. I'm worried about everyone in the Zone, Lise. It's why I can't talk now. I have to find something and then I have to be on my way.”

“Okay... I know they're in capable hands.”

Thom kissed the top of her head. Then, he rushed from his office and down the stairs. She heard the turbines of the Drumm whine up and then fade into the distance.

Back into the house she wandered. The combination of anxiety and boredom was beginning to bother her. Last night bothered her. Her dreams were never so vivid as the sight of the green man mounting the steps, and she was sure she hadn't imagined it. Or, had she? Sometimes she would rouse from deep sleep. In half-sleep she would be unsure of her surroundings and objects took on different forms. With Rayla trapped in the Zone things weighed heavily on her mind.

She needed something to distract her. She wanted to do something --anything, but what? Gather more seeds for the garden?

XVI

Lise stepped back onto the terrace and watched the Zone. It would be sundown soon. A blast came from the old hotel. Flames began to emerge from the windows and soon the whole building was engulfed. It's started, she thought. The burning of the Zone was underway.

She sat at a portable mediascreen and entered her mother's call number. The call connected.

“Mother,” she said, “are you all right?”

“Yes, for now,” Rayla replied. “People have been in and out using my mediascreen --most of them in the same situation as me.”

“Do you mean a problem with the registry?”

“Yes --they are legal, registered novonids who didn't show up on the master list. The owners are complaining but the authorities aren't doing anything about it. They're using us, Lise. They plan to demolish the zone, starting at one end and working toward the other. They think if we feel the heat then we'll turn Mott and his gang over to them.”

“Thom said that Mott and his gang won't surrender without a general amnesty.”

“You know what I think Mott can do,” Rayla replied. “The squeeze is on and we're the ones caught in the grip. Lise --my battery is getting low. Like I said, people have been using the mediaphone to call their owners. I'll have to recharge it tomorrow.”

“I'll call again, Mother.”

“Lise...”

“What is it Mother?”

“I love you, Lise.”

“I know you do, Mother. I love you, too.”

“It's hard for me to say it. I don't know why and I never said it often enough...”

“Mother --you said it each and every day we were together. I never doubted it.”

She heard her mother sniffing back tears. “Good bye, Lise.” The call disconnected. She returned to the guest room and locked herself in. The night crept slowly as she lay, sleepless on the bed. Well after midnight she heard the sound of someone climbing the steps to the house. Lise crept onto the terrace and saw what she had seen the night before --a green figure unlocking the door and admitting himself into the house. Tonight, she was wide awake and knew she wasn't imagining things. She crept to the lower level and heard the sound of water running coming from behind the locked door.

The water sounds ceased. She heard movement and regarded this as her cue to hide. Lise ducked into the stairwell and under the steps. She could just glimpse the mysterious, locked door. It opened and Thom stepped out, leaving the room dark. He locked the door with a passcard and turned toward the stairs. She watched him trudge up one flight of stairs and then another. His bedroom door closed.

She sat under the stairs, her heart pounding, as she assimilated what she had seen. The difficult part was believing it. A green man had walked into the house, into the locked room and Thom had emerged. There was no doubt that Thom was impersonating a novonid.

Lise crept from the stairwell and silently ascended the stairs to the guest room. She lay in the dark, eyes wide open and sorting through what it meant. Why was Thom doing this? Was it to broker a truce between white officials and the insurgents? Was this how he could meet with Mott? The thought this was his mission comforted her.

But, she recognized a problem with this explanation. If this was his mission, then why the locked room? Why the secrecy? Why the skulking in the middle of the night? There was another possibility. Her mind wanted to reject it, but couldn't. Night time was Mott's time --between bedtime and the dead of night was when Mott held court in the Zone. What if Thom WAS Mott?

Lise needed to know. Did Thom, Lord Bromen --a man she loved, the inheritor of a lorship granted five hundred years before and a scion of Varadan business and society --lead a double life and have as an alter-ego a renegade novonid named Mott?

Shadows lengthened in the afternoon sun. Lise approach Thom's library. She could see him at his desk, manipulating his mediascreen. “Thom?” she said.

He looked up. “Yes, Lise?”

“I'd like to feed tonight. You haven't had your dinner. I thought we could share some of that special food you invented.”

“Lise... All right, that's a good idea.”

Lise followed him into the kitchen. Thom dumped some of the protein strands into a bowl for her and onto a round of pomma flatbread for himself. He set the bowl on the table. Lise covered it with multi-colored crystals from a bowl.

Thom sat across from her, rolled the pomma flat into a cylinder and began wolfing it down.

“You look terrible, Thom,” she said.

“I haven't slept in days,” he replied. “I've been working night and day to resolve this.”

“I know you are. I realized how much I miss having our dinners together.”

“Me too.”

She lifted a forkful of the protein strands. “You taught me how to enjoy a meal, Thom. I'll be so happy when this thing is resolved and we can get back to normal.”

“Yes... So will I.”

Lise stepped up the pace of her eating to match Thom's. He bolted down some pomma brew and stood. “If you'll excuse me I have to get back to work.”

She pressed her hand against her stomach. “If you'll excuse me, I think I'll turn in early. Feeding makes me sleepy and I didn't sleep well last night. See you tomorrow.”

Lise headed up the stairs and closed the door. It was just past dusk and the twilight was deepening. She wondered how long she'd need to wait.

It was approaching midnight when she heard Thom's footfalls on the stairs, heading to the lower level. Lise armed herself with a handheld lantern she found in the guest room's bedside stand. She waited and then crept down the stairs herself. The door to the mystery room was ajar. Back to the stairwell she crept and waited. A green figure emerged, closed and locked the door and headed out the lower entrance leading to the steps. From her vantage, Thom's disguise looked nearly perfect. He had gone to the trouble of having orange contact lenses made to color his eyes. Whatever paint he used on his skin was dead-on novonid green, and he had darkened his lips. He wore a novonid man's shorts and sandals, and a sleeveless pull-over shirt of the sort she often saw worn in the Zone after the sun had set. He would certainly pass for a novonid in the dim, greaselamp-lit rooms in Zone buildings. She let him put distance between them and then she followed him. He reached the end of the trail. To Lise's surprise he didn't turn left and head toward the end of the Zone where the ruined hotel stood. Instead he turned right and went into the woods.

Quietly she followed him. She stepped into a clearing, looked around and found no trace of him. With her thumb she activated the lantern. The additional light showed the clearing to be the remnants of a roadway leading back toward the Zone and under the chain-link fence. To the side was a concrete slab and signs of recent foot traffic.

Lise worked her fingers under the slab and tested its weight. It wasn't concrete but a lightweight, foam polymer and lifted easily, revealing a pit with a ladder. She eased herself down the ladder, pulling the polymer slab across the opening above her. At the bottom of the pit was a tunnel, similar to the service tunnels linking the buildings within the Zone.

The existence of the old roadway and the tunnel meant one of two things: At one time either the city had extended further than the current perimeter or such expansion had been planned. Lise pocketed her lantern. With her hand against the wall, she followed the tunnel for a distance. It joined with another tunnel and she followed the right-hand fork.

After a distance she began to smell smoke. The further into the tunnel she went, the stronger the smell. Perhaps this branch led to the burning hotel.

She backtracked and took the left fork. The tunnel was narrow --just wide enough for a single file and it went for quite a distance. Eventually she reached the end --a makeshift door fabricated from a panel.

Lise cracked the door open. Beyond it was a basement similar to the one she knew as home. Light from overhead aircraft flashed in the sill windows. It appeared to be deserted. Through the sill window she could make out the ruins of the viaduct. This was, she figured, one of the deserted apartment buildings near the old park.

She actived her lantern, flashed the light around the room and found a stairway leading to the upper level of the building. Off went the lantern and she crept up the stairs to the first level and into a corridor. The building was so decrepit not even novonids lived here. But, she heard voices --animated voices

--echoing through the corridor. Lise found her way to a foyer. The door was off one hinge and she could look out onto the park, onto the very spot where she had posed for one of Tagg's sketches. Light from the searchlights swept the area, illuminating the landscape like lightning. Lise followed the voices. She crept along the old, terazzo corridors of the abandoned building, feeling her way along the wall. Ahead, a door ajar admitted a dim shaft of orange-yellow greaselamp light into the hallway. She stood to the side of the doorway and peered in.

A half-dozen novonid men sat cross-legged on the floor around the greaselamp. Another paced, his back to the door. “The whites won't grant a general amnesty,” the pacing man said. “They want blood for blood. I told you bombing the constable's station was a bad idea.”

“I say we wait them out,” another man replied.

“If they want blood,” a third man said, “let's give it to 'em. We'll round up some unregistereds and blame the bombing on them.”

“That's right,” the second man added. “We'll snag a few. They want the bombers dead or alive. We'll deliver 'em dead ... so they can't argue. Who'll miss a few unregistereds, anyway?”

“Yeah,” the third man said. “No one will miss 'em. We'll claim credit for keeping the peace in the Zone. We'll all come out of this clear --as clear as an azure sky on a sunny day.”

“No!” The pacing man turned toward the rest. Lise could see his face in the orange glow. It was indeed Thom.

“But Mott... You said yourself there's to be no amnesty... Somebody has to...”

Lise backed away from the doorway. Now there was no doubt in her mind. None at all. Thom and Mott were one and the same. Who would believe it? She barely believed it herself. She felt a hand clamped across her mouth and a hard object pressed against her back. “Don't move,”

came a whispered hiss. “Don't cry out or you're dead!” The hand released her and probed her, finding her lantern. “Okay, turn around...” Light from her lantern flashed in her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

In the dim light she could discern a novonid male, somewhat older than she. “I... My mother and I are registered but we're trapped in the Zone. I wanted to see Mott ... and ask him to smuggle us out.”

Another male, one Grott's age and also armed, joined them. “What do we have?”

“A girl... wants Mott to take her out of the Zone.”

“That's the second one tonight.”

“Mott's too busy to run an escort service,” the first man sneered. “Get lost.”

“Quiet, man...” He looked Lise up and down. “It's no good,” he said gently. “Maybe there are ways out of the Zone. Then you'd be on the streets, after curfew. You're just as dead.”

Lise put her hand to her eyes. “We're so scared... We just want to be safe.” She sniffled. “Mother said if anyone can help us, it's Mott...” She began soft sobbing.

The older novonid checked the safety on his handgun and tucked it into the waistband of his shorts. He knelt. “There, there little one... Where do you live?”

“At the eastern edge of the Zone,” Lise sniffed and wiped her eyes.

“That's the safest place for you be.”

“How do I get there?”

“How did you get here?” the older man asked.

“I ... I came in daylight and hid in the old park, under the viaduct until dark...”

The older man's eyes narrowed. “How did you know to come here?”

“I ... I ... heard talk.”

He looked toward his younger comrade. “There are an awful lot of loose lips,” he growled.

“Not from me,” the younger one protested.

“Mother will worry,” Lise sniffled. “I didn't mean to make trouble, believe me.”

“Show her the tunnel,” the younger man said.

“You shut your yap...” He looked at Lise. “All right ... you can make it if you dodge the searchlights. The whites are patrolling the western end. That's why we moved our operations up here. If a searchlight catches you, you're dead. They sweep in a regular pattern. Watch it for a while and you'll see how to dodge them.” Lise nodded. “Good luck.”

She ducked out the door, hid under the portico and did what Mott's lieutenant had instructed her to do --she watched the pattern of the searchlight from the hovering aircraft. It went south-to-north and back, then eastward.

Lise crouched and made a run for it, reaching a building closer to her end of the Zone. This one was inhabited, so she ran through the lower level, past old apartments, her path illuminated by the orange light of greaselamps shining through makeshift doors.

She reached the other end of the building, looked up, watched and waited. A shaft of light swept outside the door where she stood and then moved on. Lise made another dash. Two more buildings and she'd be at the familiar courtyard. Through the ground floors and between buildings she sprinted until she reached the door leading to her basement apartment. She pounded on the door. “Mother,” she called.

“It's Lise!”

The door opened. Lise pushed down the stairs. Rayla threw her arms around her daughter and squeezed her. “Oh, Lise! You shouldn't have come. Now you're trapped here, too.”

“Mother --where's your mediascreen?” Rayla produced it and Lise switched it on. She manipulated it. “Look --the registry's been fixed. Here's your number. You're legal!”

Rayla took the screen. “What good does that do? They've sealed the Zone and they're not letting anyone in or out, registered or not. They're using us to pressure Mott. They're putting the squeeze on Mott's gang. They want Mott. They think, once we start feeling the heat, we'll turn Mott over to them. And, now --you're trapped here, too!”

“I know a way out of the Zone, Mother.”

“How?”

“Through the service tunnels.”

“The tunnels are bricked up,” Rayla replied. “The constables have men posted where they're not.”

“Not at the western end of the Zone. It's how I made my way here.”

“They're patrolling the western end. They'll shoot us on sight. If they spot us, we're dead.”

“We can dodge the searchlights. Come, Mother --It'll lead us out beyond the fence into the woods. We can take refuge there until daylight.”

“If we're spotted there, we're dead, too.”

“No, Mother --it's on private property. There are no patrols there.”

“Whose property?” Lise bit her lip. “Whose?”

“Mother... I know who Mott is!”

“Who?”

“He's Thom.”

“Who?”

“Thom ... Lord Bromen.”

“YOUR Thom? Why would he?”

“I don't know. I have no idea, but I'm sure of it. I followed him from his house and through the very tunnels that'll lead us out of here.”

“The authorities want Mott,” Rayla said. “Let's give him to them. We'll go have chat with the nice constables manning the gate.”

“I can't betray Thom,” Lise protested.

“Can't betray Thom? You don't think he's betrayed us? They torched three more buildings today. And, what about the bombing that started this mess? Two dozen whites were killed. And then there are the fieldworkers who supported his strike and are now under the boots of their overseers. Who betrayed them? Who filled them with ideas about changing the world? There are hundreds of us locked inside the Zone. There are thousands whose lives will never be the same again. Lise! Who is betraying whom?”

Lise buried her face in her hands. “I can't. I love him.”

Rayla grasped Lise's face in both hands and looked into her eyes. “Sometimes, even when we love someone we must intervene ... to keep them from hurting themselves or from hurting others.”

“I know...”

“It must be done, Lise. You know it must. Come with me.”

Lise and Rayla approached a constable's deputy near the gate leading from the Green Zone, making sure to hold their hands in view. “Halt,” ordered the deputy. “You're violating curfew.” He unholstered his sidearm.

“We heard,” Rayla replied, “that you will turn us over to our owners in exchange for information.”

“That depends on the quality of the information.”

“We know where Mott is,” Lise said.

“We get a dozen a day who claim they know where he is...” The deputy whistled. Two others approached holding long arms. “They got information. Take 'em to the sergeant.”

One of the officers patted them down while another reviewed their registrations on his handheld.

“Follow me.”

“Put your hands on your head,” the other officer ordered and followed them outside the Zone to a pair of trailers that had been joined to form a makeshift headquarters.

“Sergeant... They claim to have information.”

“We know where Mott is,” Lise said.

“Where?”

“Do you have a map?” she asked.

The sergeant unrolled a scroll onto a table. She pointed to a building on the north side of the old park.

“There --in a ground floor room.”

“You're sure?”

“Positive.”

The sergeant operated his mediascreen. “Swarm coordinates B-3,” he ordered and then looked toward Lise and her mother. “We'll see...”

“I also know who he is,” Lise added.

“Who? What do you mean, who?”

“Mott isn't a novonid. He's a white man, disguised as one.”

“Why would a white disguise himself as a novonid?”

“I don't know,” Lise replied.

“Who is he, then?”

Lise looked into the sergeant's eyes. “He's Thom, Lord Bromen.”

The sergeant laughed. “Lord Bromen? A lord would do this?”

“Do you know what Mott looks like?” Lise asked.

“We have a composite sketch.” The sergeant brought an image onto his mediascreen.

“That's Lord Bromen,” Lise said.

“I'll bring up Lord Bromen's image...” The two images were displayed side-by-side.

“You know, Sarge,” the deputy said. “I think the greenie's right.”

The mediascreen signalled an incoming call. “Yes?” the sergeant answered.

“They scattered,” came a voice from the device. “We bagged a few of them.”

“Mott?”

“He got away --if he was there at all.”

“He was there,” Lise said. “I saw him.”

“Cordon the building,” the sergeant replied into the mediascreen. “That one's next for demolition. Go through it for materiel and then have the demo team set their charges.”

The officer on the other end acknowledged his orders and the call terminated.

“Sergeant,” Lise said. “Mott will be headed here --to the house on the hill.” She pointed to the map.

“There's a path from the far end of the Zone leading here.” She traced the path. “If you wait for him here, you'll catch him.”

The sergeant placed another call and ordered officers to the address.

“That's a lord's residence,” the officer on the other end protested. “We need the Constable-in-Chief's go-ahead.”

“You stake it out,” the sergeant replied, “and let me worry about Lord Fahrr's permission.” The call disconnected. “Or, his forgiveness,” the sergeant muttered under his breath. He turned to the officer who had brought Lise and the others. “Take them downtown. Lord Fahrr will want a word with them.”

“Will Lord Fahrr accept the words of novonids as an excuse for searching a lord's home?” the officer asked.

“If it's true --if Lord Bromen is Mott... Then we had a hot tip, and these novonids' words won't matter.”

“If it's not true?”

“Then I'll be the one to deal with it. Dismissed.”

The officer gestured them out of the sergeant's office. “We need a car,” he said to another deputy behind a desk.

“There's one outside.”

“Come along...”

He opened the rear door. Lise and Rayla slid in.

“I don't know what I'm doing here,” Rayla said. “I don't know anything about Mott or Lord Bromen.”

“At least you're outside the Zone,” Lise replied. “With any luck you won't need to go back. Have you heard from Father?”

“No... I'm treating no news as good news.”

The car's turbine whined and the driver guided it away from the Zone and toward the cluster of high-rise buildings in central Vyonna. He pulled the car into the underground garage and stopped by an entrance.

Another deputy greeted them. “Are these the ones to see Lord Fahrr?” he asked.

“They're the ones.”

He pulled open the rear door. “This way, folks.” He led them to a lift and escorted them into an office waiting room. “Wait here for Lord Fahrr.”

Lise sat, her hands in her lap. She could hear constables and staff murmuring and she could discern the words Mott and Bromen.

An officer approached them and regarded their serial numbers. He looked at Rayla. “Come with me.”

“Me?”

“Yes --follow me.” He led her through a door.

Lise sat and waited, thinking of what she had done ... what she had set into motion. Thom! Why? She remembered what her mother had said --sometimes we must intervene.

The door opened and a deputy led Rayla back into the waiting room. He nodded toward Lise. She walked into the room and faced a grey-haired man with an impeccably trimmed moustache. He wore a constable's uniform, on the right shoulder of which were embroidered three lozenges, done in metallic purple thread.

“Please sit,” he said. “I'm Lord Fahrr. You must be Lise.”

“Yes, Lord,” she replied.

He consulted his mediascreen. “Lise, I'm going to ask you a series of questions. You must answer them truthfully. If we discover any falsehoods, it could be very serious for you. Do you understand?”

She swallowed. “Yes, Lord.”

“Very good. It is a serious accusation you have made against Lord Bromen.”

“I know it is.”

“What event brought you to the conclusion he was leading a double life, impersonating a novonid named Mott?”

“Well, Lord... I was in his house and witnessed what appeared to be a novonid man of similar build and physique enter and go into a locked workroom. Thom... Lord Bromen emerged from the room. When I questioned him about who had entered the room, he said it was only himself. He suggested I imagined it.”

“Did you consider that possibility?”

“The first night this happened I thought I might've imagined it. Then, the second night I purposely waited under a stairwell so I could be sure. It was without a doubt Thom ... Lord Bromen in novonid disguise.”

“You saw this on numerous occasions?”

“Yes, Lord.”

“You were inside the Zone when you approached the constables with your information.”

“Yes --The first two nights I observed Lord Bromen enter the house in novonid disguise. Tonight I waited to see if Lord Bromen left the house as Mott. He did. I followed him into the Zone and into the building where he was meeting with his lieutenants.”

“What were you doing at Lord Bromen's home in the first place?”

“After the bombing, when the Zone was evacuated we were instructed to go to our owners. Since I am registered to Novonid Rescue, I had no owner to go to; so, I went to Lord Bromen's home.”

“Why?”

“He bought me for Novonid Rescue. I didn't know where else to go.”

“How would you describe your relationship with Lord Bromen prior to the incidents in the Zone?”

“We were friends, Lord.”

“Good friends?”

“Yes, Lord.”

“Were you lovers?”

Lise took a deep breath. “I loved him as a very dear friend, Lord. We were not lovers in the traditional sense.”

“Did you have a sexual relationship with him?”

“Lord, I don't believe I should be compelled to answer that. The sort of physical relationship, if any, that two consenting adults share is their business and no one else's.”

“Let me be the judge of that, Lise. Sexual relationships are frequently cause for all sorts of behavior. Did you have a sexual relationship with him?”

“I will not answer that, Lord.”

“Lise, you need not fear consequences from your answer. I've known Lord Bromen for years. Despite his eccentricities, he is first and foremost a genteman, and a gentleman protects his ladies' honor. It would hinge on his word and I know what his answer will be. I'll ask you again... Did you have a sexual relationship?”

Lise's heart was pounding and she felt her neck becoming damp. She tried to maintain her composure. “Lord, with all due respect --I will not answer.”

“Hmmph... Then, I must assume the worst.”

“Assume what you must, Lord. I will not lie and I will not answer that question.”

“Lord Bromen has long been rumored to have a fondness for green flesh.” Lise felt warmth building in her face. “How would you respond if I told you I know of other novonid females who have been ... intimate with Lord Bromen?”

“With all respect, Lord Fahrr --it's of no consequence to me.” She looked at her feet. “Have you interviewed them? Did they admitted to such?”

Fahrr gazed at her for a long moment. “If it's of no consequence to you, why do you ask?”

She looked him in the eye. “It IS of no consequence, Lord.”

“Fine, Lise, if you say so... How did you find Lord Bromen after the evacuation of the Zone?”

“As I said, we were told to go to our owners and I believed in my case that meant to Lord Bromen's house...”

“No, Lise --how was his behavior toward you?”

“He was distracted and ... distant.”

“Do you have any other evidence of his alter-ego?”

“Other than seeing him in novonid green paint and costume with my own eyes ... no, Lord.”

“That's enough, Lise. Thank you.” He pressed a key on his desk. A deputy escorted Lise back to the waiting room. Rayla was gone. “Where's my mother?” she asked.

“Her owner has made arrangements with a temporary shelter in Quadrant Two. She's being taken there. Your registration is in order. We're awaiting instructions on where you should go.”

“Am I to be detained?” Lise asked.

“No. It turns out that one Thom, Lord Bromen was this Mott guy stirring up trouble in the Zone. Well, they caught him on some hot tip as he was trying to sneak back into his house. Because it was a white who was responsible, they're not charging any of the novonids ... except for the ones who blew up the constable's station. They have those on surveillance cams.”

“So, what happens next?”

“We go through the Zone with a fine-tooth comb and find those four or five who bombed the substation. Then, we'll re-open the Zone, lift the state of emergency and we're back to normal. Those are Lord Fahrr's orders.”

“Lord Fahrr's orders?” Lise asked.

Lord Fahrr has a soft spot for greenies. He doesn't think it's in your people's nature to do something like that on your own. If it were up to me, I'd go in there with a flame-thrower and fix the problem once and for all.”

Lise winced. “The other strikers won't be punished?”

“No. They was just following this Mott fellow's lead.

“Will I need to testify at Lord Bromen's trial?”

“No... Novonid testimony isn't admissible. However, what you told the Constable-in-Chief IS

admissible.”

“What about all the unregistereds in the Zone?”

“Lord Fahrr says, leave 'em be. They're not hurting anyone --so long as they stay there.” The deputy's handheld warbled and he consulted it. “Looks like Novonid Rescue didn't make any arrangements for temporary shelters. I don't know where you go next.”

“I do,” she replied. “Can someone take me to Quadrant Three, block fourteen-forty, number 505?”

“I think we can arrange that. This way...” Lise began walking toward the lift. The squad car sped along the empty streets and pulled into the residential neighborhood where Megan lived. “Officer --what constitutes a curfew violation?”

“You must be off the streets.”

“So if I sat on a doorstep...”

“You'd be off the street.”

The car stopped in front of Megan's house. Lise sat on the doorstep, buried her face in her hands and wept.

Dawn twilight painted the sky. Lise sat, half asleep and propped against the house. The sound of the door opening jarred her awake.

“Lise! Are you all right?” She stood and faced Megan. “What are you doing here at this time of day?

I got a call from across the street that someone was on my doorstep.”

Lise threw her arms around Megan and began sobbing.

“Oh, Lise --you poor girl. Have you been here all night?”

“Most of it.”

“Why didn't you ring the bell?”

“I didn't want to disturb you.”

“Come inside. The twins aren't awake yet.”

“Have you seen the news?”

“No.” Megan led Lise into the living room and turned on the mediascreen. “They're calling a truce in the Zone. They've captured Mott!”

“Yes. It turned out he was a friend of mine.”

“My goodness... This is unbelievable.”

“I have no place to stay, now.”

“Then, you'll stay here.”

“Really?” a young voice asked. Lise turned and saw Klarissa standing in her bedroom door. “Lise is staying here with us?”

“For a while,” her mother replied.

“Geddes! Lise is here and she's staying with us!”

The twins ran to her and she hugged and kissed them. “They're such beautiful children, Megan. You are so fortunate.”

“You can sleep in my bed,” Klarissa said.

“No, mine,” Geddes replied.

“I'll be fine on the sofa.”

“The sofa unfolds into a bed,” Megan said.

“Perfect.”

Lise sat at the kitchen table as Megan, Klarissa and Geddes ate their dinner. “Lise --I feel so badly that you're sitting there with nothing but a glass of water.”

“I'm fine. I won't feed for another couple of days. ”

“She gets her food from the sun,” Klarissa said.

“Yes, I know, dear,” Megan said to her daughter.

“It's a privilege and an honor to be invited to sit at your dinner table.”

“I will pick up a couple of cans of the food you eat. Is there anything in particular you like?”

“It's all the same.”

The doorbell rang. “I wonder who that is?” Megan stood and opened the door. A pair of constable's deputies stepped inside. “Is there Zero-One-Zero ... a Lise here?”

“That's me,” Lise said, standing.

“Would you please come with us?”

“Is she in trouble?” Megan asked.

“No. We just want to talk with her.”