“Which means you have had visitors like us in the past,” Suzanne said.

“For sure,” Suzanne said. “We’ve had many over the last ten thousand years or so.”

Suzanne’s mouth slowly dropped open. “Did you say ten thousand years?”

“I did,” Sufa said. “Prior to that we had no interest in your culture.”

“Are you suggesting-”

“Please,” Sufa interrupted. She took a deep breath. “No more questions unless they are about your accommodations. I have to insist.”

“All right,” Suzanne said. “Let’s get back to the worker clones. How do I call one?”

“A voice command,” Sufa said. “It’s the same for most everything in Interterra.”

“I just say ‘worker clone’?” Suzanne asked.

“ ‘Worker clone’ or just ‘worker,’ ” Sufa said. “Then, of course, it has to be followed by an exclamatory word that you feel comfortable with. But the phrase has to be said as a true exclamation.”

“I could do it right now?” Suzanne asked.

“Of course,” Sufa said.

“Worker, please,” Suzanne said. She maintained eye contact with Sufa. Nothing happened.

“That wasn’t enough of an exclamation,” Sufa explained. “Try it again.”

“Worker, please!” Suzanne cried.

“Much better,” Sufa said. “But it doesn’t have to be so loud. It’s not the volume that counts. It’s the intended meaning. Humanoids have to know without equivocation that you want them to appear. Their default mode is not to come, so as to be less bothersome.”

“Did you mean to use the term humanoid?” Suzanne asked.

“Of course,” Sufa said. “Worker clones look very humanlike although they are a fusion of android elements, engineered biomechanical parts, and hominid sections. They are half-machine, half-living organisms who conveniently take care of themselves and even reproduce.”

Suzanne stared at Sufa with an expression that was a combination of dismay and disbelief. Sufa interpreted it as fear.

“Now, don’t worry,” Sufa said. “They are very easy to deal with and are inordinately helpful. In fact, they are truly wonderful creatures as you will undoubtedly discover. Their only minor drawback is that, like their particular hominid forebears, they are unable to speak-but they will understand you perfectly.”

Suzanne continued to stare. Before she could ask another question, one of the doors opposite the cabinets opened and in walked a statuesque woman. Suzanne realized she’d been expecting a grotesque automaton, but the woman before her was hauntingly beautiful with classical features and blond hair, alabaster skin, and dark, penetrating eyes. She was wearing black satin coveralls with long sleeves.

“Here is a fine example of a female worker clone,” Sufa said. “You’ll notice she is wearing a hoop earring. They all wear them for some reason I’ve never understood, although I believe it has something to do with pride or lineage. You’ll also notice that she is rather comely, as are the male versions. But most importantly, you’ll find her amenable to your wishes. Whatever you want, just tell her and she will try to do it, short of injuring herself.”

Suzanne stared into the woman’s eyes; they were like dark pools. Her facial features were as sculptured and attractive as Sufa’s yet they bore no expression.

“Does she have a name?” Suzanne questioned.

“Heavens no,” Sufa said with a chuckle. “That certainly would complicate things. We wouldn’t want to personalize our relationship with workers. That’s part of the reason they have never been engineered to speak.”

“But she will do what I ask?”

“Absolutely,” Sufa said. “Anything at all. She can pick up your clothes, wash them, draw your bath, restock your refrigerator, give you a massage, even change the temperature of the water in your pool. Whatever you want or need.”

“At the moment I think it would be best if she left,” Suzanne said. She shuddered imperceptibly. The idea of someone being half alive and half machine was disquieting.

“Go, please!” Sufa said. The woman turned and left as quietly as she’d appeared. Sufa looked back at Suzanne. “Of course, next time you call for a worker clone it will most likely be a different one. Whoever is available comes.”

Suzanne nodded as if she understood, but she didn’t. “Where do they come from?”

“Underground,” Sufa said.

“Like in caves?” Suzanne asked.

“I suppose,” Sufa said vaguely. “I’ve never been down there nor do I know anyone else who has. But, enough about worker clones! We have to get you over to the dining hall for your meal. Would you like to swim or bathe? It’s entirely up to you, but there isn’t an overabundance of time.”

Suzanne swallowed. Her throat was dry. Given everything she’d been presented with, she found it difficult to make even a simple decision. She looked over at the pool. Its color, now more aquamarine than azure, was as inviting as its gently flickering surface.

“Maybe a swim would be a good idea,” Suzanne said.

“Excellent,” Sufa answered. “There are fresh clothes in the cabinet. And shoes, too, I might add.”

Suzanne nodded.

“I’ll wait for you outside,” Sufa said. “I have a feeling it would be good for you to be alone for a few minutes to catch your breath.”

“I think you are right,” Suzanne said.

The dining room was situated in a building similar in size and shape to the cottages but without a bed. It was also open to the exterior but faced the dramatic central pavilion rather than the expansive lawns and fern thickets. Its long central table was like the one in the decon area’s living quarters. The deeply cushioned chaises looked the same, too.

The group had arrived from their separate lodgings at about the same time, in distinctly different moods about their circumstances. Richard and Michael pointedly refused to acknowledge any misgivings. They were completely exhilarated, like two children let loose in the theme park of their dreams and intent on taking advantage of every available perquisite. Perry was also excited about the possibilities inherent in this new world, but he remained outwardly cooler than the giddy divers. Suzanne was still more confused than excited. She continued to toy with the notion that they were experiencing a kind of collective hallucination according to their own predilections. In contrast to everyone else, Donald was sullen, convinced as he was that the whole construct was an elaborate, purposeful delusion toward some nefarious end.

The conversation centered on the saucer ride and the marvels of their accommodations. Richard and Michael were the most animated, particularly after they learned that Suzanne’s worker clone had been female. Richard hinted at the desires that might be sated by such a pliant creature.

Suzanne was appalled, and let him know in no uncertain terms. “Try to act like you’re from a civilized race!”

The food was similar to the fare they had had in the decon quarters, with the same curious variation in perceived taste although it was presented in elaborate, self-serve courses. It was brought out by two extremely handsome men in black satin, long-sleeved overalls that zipped up the front. Each was wearing a hoop earring.

Suddenly Donald threw his gold fork with some force onto his gold platter. The clatter was surprisingly loud in the marbled room as it reverberated off the stone walls. Richard was caught in midsentence, describing the plunge he took in his pool, with his mouth stuffed with what he insisted was a dollop of hot fudge sundae. Suzanne jumped from fright and dropped her own fork with somewhat less of a clatter, emphasizing to herself how tense she was. Michael choked on what he was experiencing as sweet potato pie.

“How can you people eat under these circumstances!” Donald shouted.

“What circumstances?” Richard asked, his mouth still brimming with food. His eyes darted rapidly around the room, fearful that the place had been invaded.