“What—what are you?” she said in the Neanderthal tongue.

“I’m Mary Vaughan,” called Mary. “Please, don’t run off! Are you Vissan Lennet?”

The female’s broad jaw dropped—and Mary realized she’d said words that contained the never-before-heard ee phoneme.

“Yes,” said Vissan in the Neanderthal tongue. “I’m Vissan—but please don’t hurt me.”

Mary looked at Ponter, surprised, but then called back. “Of course we won’t hurt you!” Then, to Ponter: “Why would she be afraid of us?”

Ponter spoke softly. “She has no Companion. No record is being made for her benefit of this encounter, and she has no status under our law—she could never order a review of our own recordings at the alibi archives.”

“Don’t be afraid!” called out Mega helpfully. “We’re nice!”

Ponter, Mary, and Mega had managed to get another five meters closer to Vissan without her running off. “What are you?” said Vissan again.

“She’s a Gliksin!” said Mega. “Can’t you tell?”

Vissan stared at Mary. “No, really. What are you?”

“Mega’s right. I am what you’d call a Gliksin.”

“Astonishment!” said Vissan. “But—but you are an adult. If someone had recovered Gliksin genetic material many tenmonths ago, I would surely have known.”

It took a moment for Mary to figure out what Vissan meant; she thought Mary was a clone, made from ancient DNA.

“No, that’s not it. I’m—”

“Let me,” said Ponter. “Vissan, do you know who I am?”

Vissan narrowed her eyes, then shook her head. “No.”

“That’s my daddy,” said Mega. “His name’s Ponter Boddit. He’s a 145. I’m a 148!”

“Do you know of a chemist named Lurt Fradlo?” asked Ponter, looking at Vissan.

“Fradlo? Of Saldak? I know her work.”

“She’s Adikor’s woman-mate,” said Mega. “And Adikor is my daddy’s man-mate.”

Ponter put a hand on Mega’s shoulder. “That’s right. Adikor and I are both quantum physicists. Together, he and I accessed an alternative reality in which Gliksins survived to the present day and Barasts did not.”

“You’re ruffling my back hair,” said Vissan.

“No, he’s not!” said Mega. “It’s true! Daddy disappeared into another world, down in the Debral nickel mine. Nobody knew what happened to him. Daklar thought Adikor had done something bad to Daddy, but Adikor’s a good guy; he’d never do anything like that! Jasmel—that’s my sister—she worked with Adikor to bring Daddy back. But then they made a portal that’s always open, and Mare came through from the other side.”

“No,” said Vissan, looking down. “She must be of this world. She has a Companion.”

Mary looked down, as well; a bit of Christine’s faceplate was protruding past her jacket’s sleeve. She took off her jacket, rolled up her shirtsleeve, and held out her arm. “But my Companion has only recently been installed,” said Mary. “The wound is still healing.”

Vissan took her first step toward Mary, then another, then one more. “So it is,” she said at last.

“What we are saying is true,” said Ponter. He gestured at Mary. “You can see that it’s true.”

Vissan placed her hands on her broad hips, and studied Mary’s face, with its tiny nose, high forehead, and bony projection from the lower jaw. Then, her voice full of wonder, she said, “Yes, I suppose I can.”

Vissan was a 144, most of a decade older than Mary. She had green eyes and hair that was predominantly gray, with only a few blond streaks betraying its original color. She was wearing fairly ragged manufactured clothing that had been patched here and there by pieces of hide, and was carrying a leather bag, presumably containing the bounty she’d gathered that morning.

The four of them were walking back toward Vissan’s cabin. “All right,” she said, looking at Mary, “I accept your story of who you are. But I still don’t know why you have sought me out.”

They had come to a small stream. Ponter picked up Mega and hopped over it first, then he offered his hand to help Mary across. Vissan forded the stream herself.

“I’m a life chemist, too,” said Mary. “We’re interested in your codon writer.”

“It is banned,” said Vissan, lifting her shoulder. “Banned by a bunch of short-headed fools.”

Ponter made a silencing motion. Up ahead were some more deer. Mary looked at the beautiful creatures.

“Vissan,” whispered Ponter, although Christine gave the translation a greater volume, since only Mary could hear that. “Do you have enough food? I would gladly bring down one of those deer for you.”

Vissan laughed, and spoke in a normal voice. “You are kind, Ponter, but I am doing fine.”

Ponter dipped his head, and they continued on, until the deer scattered of their own accord. Up ahead, Vissan’s cabin was visible.

“My interest in the codon writer isn’t just academic,” said Mary. “Ponter and I wish to have a child.”

“I’m going to have a little sister!” said Mega. “I already have a big sister. Not many people get to have a big sister and a little sister, so I’m special.”

“That’s right, darling,” said Mary. “You’re very special.” She turned back to Vissan.

“What of your Barast woman-mate?” asked Vissan, looking now at Ponter.

“She is no more,” said Ponter.

“Ah,” said Vissan. “I’m sorry.”

They had reached the cabin. Vissan opened the door and motioned for Ponter, Mary, and Mega to follow her in. Vissan took off her fur coat—

—and Mary saw the hideous scarring on the inside of her left forearm, where she’d carved out her Companion.

Ponter sat down with Mega at the table, giving her some attention. Mega had picked up a pine cone and two nice stones on the way back that she wanted her father to see.

Mary looked at Vissan. “So,” she said, “does your prototype still exist?”

“Why do you need it?” asked Vissan. “Has one of you been sterilized by the government?”

“No,” said Mary. “It’s nothing like that.”

“Then why do you need my device?”

Mary looked over at Ponter, who was listening intently to Mega, who was now telling him about things she’d been learning in school. “Barasts and Gliksins, plus chimpanzees, bonobos, gorillas, and orangutans, all have a common ancestor,” said Mary. “That ancestor apparently had twenty-four pairs of chromosomes, as do all of its descendants except Gliksins. In Gliksins, two chromosomes have fused into one, meaning we only have twenty-three pairs. The overall genome is the same length, but the differing chromosome count would make a natural conception problematic.”

“Fascinating!” said Vissan. “Yes, the codon writer could easily produce a matched diploid set of chromosomes that combined Ponter’s DNA and your own.”

“So we’d hoped,” said Mary. “Which is why we’re interested in whether the prototype still exists.”

“Oh, it exists, all right,” said Vissan. “But I can’t let you have it—it’s a banned device. As much as I hate that fact, it is the reality. You would be punished for possessing it.”

“It is banned here,” said Mary.

“Not just here in the vicinity of Kraldak,” said Vissan. “It is banned all over the world.”

“All over this world,” said Mary. “But not in my world. I could take it back there; Ponter and I could conceive there.”

Vissan’s eyes went wide under her undulating browridge. She was quiet for a few moments, and Mary knew better than to interrupt her thinking. “I suppose you could, at that,” said Vissan, at last. “Why not? Better that somebody get the benefit of it, rather than no one.” She paused. “You would need medical aid still,” said Vissan, “to remove an egg from your body. Your natural haploid set of chromosomes would be vacuumed out of it, and a doctor would add in a full diploid set of chromosomes created using the codon writer. The egg would then be implanted in your womb. From that point on, it will be precisely like a regular pregnancy.” She smiled. “Cravings for salted tubers, morning sickness, and all.”