Mary had strapped on a temporary Companion before leaving the elevator building; all Gliksins who visited the Neanderthal world were required to wear them, constantly monitoring their activities, and transmitting information to the alibi archives. But the damned things itched. Mary found herself sticking a ballpoint pen she’d brought with her underneath the Companion, trying to scratch with it. “Are the permanent ones this uncomfortable?” she asked, looking at Ponter.

“I am not aware of Hak’s physical presence at all,” said Ponter. He paused. “But, on this subject…”

“Yes?”

“These temporary Companions expire after twenty days or so—they are battery-powered, after all, instead of drawing power from your bodily processes. Of course, given who you are, we could certainly get you another one.”

Mary smiled. She wasn’t used to this notion that just being Mary Vaughan entitled her to special treatment. “No,” she said. “No, I should get a permanent one, I think.”

Ponter smiled broadly. “Thank you,” he said. And then, presumably just to be sure, he added, “You do know that permanent means permanent. To remove it later will be very difficult, and might seriously damage your forearm muscles and nerves.”

Mary nodded. “I understand that. But I also understand that if I don’t get a permanent Companion, I’ll always be an outsider here.”

“Thank you,” said Ponter warmly. “What kind do you want?”

Mary had been looking out at the pristine landscape—old-growth forest mixed with shield rocks. “Pardon me?”

“Well, you could get the standard sort of Companion. Or”—and here Ponter raised his left arm and faced its inner surface toward Mary—“you could opt for one like mine, with a true artificial intelligence installed.”

Mary lifted her eyebrows. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“Few people have intelligent Companions,” said Ponter, “although I expect they will become very common in times to come. You will certainly want the processing capability that goes with an advanced unit; you will need that for real-time language translation. But it is up to you what features you get beyond that.”

Mary looked at Ponter’s Companion. Externally, it seemed no different from the dozens of others she’d now seen—except, of course, the gold one Lonwis Trob had. But inside, she knew, dwelt Hak. “What’s it like,” asked Mary, “having an intelligent Companion?”

“Oh, it is not so bad,” said Hak’s voice, coming from the implant’s external speaker. “I have gotten used to the big guy.”

Mary laughed, half in amusement and half in surprise.

Ponter rolled his eyes, a facial expression he’d picked up from Mary. “It is a lot like that,” he said.

“I’m not sure I could take it,” said Mary, “having someone with me all the time.” Mary frowned. “Is Hak really…conscious?”

“How do you mean?” asked Ponter.

“Well, I know you don’t believe in souls; I know that you think your own mind is just utterly predictable software running on the hardware of your brain. But, I mean, does Hak really think? Is he self-aware?”

“An interesting question,” said Ponter. “Hak, what do you say?”

“I am aware of my existence.”

Mary lifted her shoulders. “But…but, I don’t know, I mean, do you have wants and desires of your own?”

“I want to be of use to Ponter.”

“And that’s it?”

“That is it.”

Wow, thought Mary. Colm should have married one of these. “What will happen to you—forgive me, Ponter—but what will happen to you when Ponter dies?”

“My power comes from his own biochemical and bio-mechanical sources. Within a few daytenths of his death, I will cease to function.”

“Does that bother you?”

“I would have no further purpose without Ponter. No, it does not bother me.”

“It is very useful having an intelligent Companion,” said Ponter. “I doubt I would have retained my sanity during my first visit to your world without Hak’s help.”

“I don’t know,” said Mary. “It…well, it seems—forgive me, Hak—a bit creepy. Is it possible to upgrade later? You know, start with the basics and then add artificial intelligence at some future date?”

“Of course. My Companion originally had no intelligence.”

“Maybe that’s the way to go,” said Mary. “But…”

But no. No, she was trying to fit in here, and having a Companion that could advise her and explain things to her would be very useful. “No, let’s go whole hog.”

“I—beg your pardon?” said Ponter.

“I mean, I’ll get one that can think, just like Hak.”

“You will not regret the decision,” said Ponter. He looked at Mary, a proud smile on his face. “You were not the first Gliksin to visit this world,” he said—and that was true. Either a woman from the Laboratory Centre for Disease Control in Ottawa or another woman from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in Atlanta had that distinction; Mary wasn’t sure which one had actually crossed over first. “Still,” said Ponter, “you will be the first Gliksin to have a permanent Companion—the first to become one of us.”

Mary looked out the travel cube’s transparent side, at the gorgeous autumn countryside.

And she smiled.

The driver let them off on the solar-panel array, which doubled as a landing pad, next to Ponter and Adikor’s house. Grown by arboriculture, the house’s central structure was the hollow bole of a massive deciduous tree. Mary had seen Ponter’s home before, but not with all the leaves having changed color. It looked magnificent.

Inside, chemical reactions produced a cool green-white light, running in ribs up the sides of the walls. Ponter’s dog Pabo bounded over to greet them. Mary had gotten used to the animal’s wolflike appearance, and bent down to scratch her behind the ears.

Mary looked around the circular living chamber. “It’s too bad I can’t stay here,” she said wistfully.

Ponter took her in his arms, and Mary hugged him, resting her head on his shoulder. Still, four days a month with Ponter beat full-time with Colm.

Whenever she thought about Colm, the topic he’d raised came to mind, a topic that Mary had obviously suppressed thinking about until Colm had brought it into the open.

“Ponter,” Mary said softly, feeling his chest rise and fall as he breathed.

“Yes, woman that I love?”

“Next year,” said Mary, trying to keep her tone as neutral as possible, “a new generation is to be conceived.”

Ponter let go of Mary and looked at her, slowly lifting his eyebrow as he did so. “Ka. ”

“Should we have a child then?”

Ponter’s eyes went wide. “I did not think that was an option,” he said at last.

“Because we have different chromosome counts, you mean. Certainly, that would be an obstacle, but there must be some way to get around it. And, well, Jock has sent me here to learn about Neanderthal genetic technology. While I’m exploring that, I could look into ways in which we might be able to combine our own DNA and produce a child.”

“Really?”

Mary nodded. “Of course, the fertilization would have to be done in vitro.”

Hak bleeped.

“In glassware. Outside my body.”

“Ah,” said Ponter. “I am surprised that your belief system supports that process, while banning so much else related to reproduction.”

Mary shrugged. “Yeah, the Roman Catholic Church is against IVF—in vitro fertilization. But I do want a baby. I want your baby. And I can’t see how giving nature a little helping hand is wrong.” She lowered her gaze. “But I know you already have two children. Perhaps…perhaps you don’t want to be a father again?”

“I will always be a father,” said Ponter, “until the day I die.” Mary lifted her eyes, and was glad to see Ponter was looking right at her. “I had not thought about having another child, but…”

Mary felt as though she were about to burst. She hadn’t realized until just this moment how very much indeed she wanted Ponter’s answer to be yes. “But what?” she said.