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He saw a couple of files that referred to J.D. He skipped them. He could not bear to look at them right now.

And then he came upon a picture of himself, a picture altered by Arachne to show his long hair loosely French braided, the light, sun-bleached strands on top crossing the darker blond hair underneath.

He leaned forward in the dark, staring at the picture of himself. In his imagination, Feral separated strands of his hair, smoothed them, plaited them. Stephen Thomas tried to comb his hair with his fingers, tried to loop the strands together the way they were in the picture, but his hair slipped from his grasp when he held it loosely, or cut against the swimming webs when he held it tight.

He felt in danger of breaking down. He let his hair fall; he buried his face against his knees and crossed his arms around his head and curled himself up.

J.D. cuddled with Zev, gazing out across the open field. The river in whose banks Crimson buried her fossils rushed and gurgled in the quiet night.

Zev sighed and nestled closer. He had begun to breathe constantly while sleeping on land, instead of intermittently as he did in the water. He had begun to sleep soundly instead of napping like an aquatic mammal.

J.D. wished she could sleep so soundly. But Nerno's long silence troubled her. If Starfarer entered transition before Nemo called her, would she ever see the squidmoth again? If Starfarer left Nemo behind in the star system of Sirius, J.D. would not have to witness Nerno's death. But Nemo would die alone.

She touched Arachne, looking for messages. Silly; unnecessary. When Nemo called, J.D. would know.

A breeze sprang up. It flowed past the open French windows, bringing the scent of spring flowers, new grass, even a hint of the sea. Strange: shouldn't the breeze flow toward the sea, this time of night?

The night grew darker as clouds collected. The breeze, gusting faster, chilled the air.

J.D. snuggled deeper in the comforter. Zev made a questioning sound in his sleep, and rubbed his cheek against her breast. She stroked his fine pale hair. His body felt hot against her.

Outside, the breeze evolved into a wind; it rushed across the field and into the house, rattling the windows. It touched her face with icy fingers, ruffling her hair and Zev's.

I should get up and close the windows, she thought. But she did not want to disturb Zev, and the cold had not yet penetrated the comforter. There was no hint of rain, only the insistent wind. It whistled and hummed; it rattled in a nearby stand of bamboo.

J.D. thought the first white flakes were flower petals, whipped and scattered from a cherry tree. Some of

them landed on the comforter at her feet. They disappeared, leaving a dark, wet patch.

Snow.

The snow surprised her, but a quick touch to Arachne assured her that it

did, on occasion, snow on board Starfarer.

Within a few minutes the snow was falling fast and hard, huge wet flakes driven horizontal by the wind. J.D. slid from beneath Zev's warm arm and went to the windows. The wintry air exhilarated her, roused her, almost as much as diving into the sea. Before she started to shiver, her metabolic enhancer kicked in.

Zev joined her by the window, sliding his arm around her waist. She hugged his shoulders. They stood together, in silence, watching the late spring blizzard, thinking how beautiful it was.

A spot of warmth blossomed at the back of J.D.'s mind.

With a start of excitement, J.D. closed her eyes and accepted the message.

"J.D.," Nemo said, "it is time to come and witness my metamorphosis." "I'll get my colleagues," J.D. replied. "We'll be there in-"

"Come in your ship alone," Nemo said,

"Alone?"

She did not think of danger, but of disappointment. Victoria and Satoshi and Stephen Thomas-how could she tell them they could not come? And Zev-? He stood beside her, watching her expectantly, made aware by her physical reaction that something was happening,

"Nemo, please-they'll be so sad.

"You are frightened."

"No!"

"I will transmit instead. You need not come."

She was sure she heard regret in Nerno's voice, and she knew she had to go. By herself. How could she let Nemo change and die, all alone?

"I will," J.D. replied. "I'll be there soon."

Stephen Thomas fell into an exhausted sleep. Maybe the sleep did him some good. Near dawn he woke, moved cautiously, stretched, and discovered that he no longer itched and ached. Tentatively, he slid his hand between his legs. He bolted up, snatching away the bedclothes and dragging down his shorts. His genitals had pulled themselves nearly inside him.

Though he knew what to expect, he still felt shocked and scared and sick.

He tried to control the new muscles, the changed muscles, to extend or retract. Nothing happened. He was stuck three quarters of the way between ordinary human and diver. Stephen Thomas shifted uncomfortably. He felt no pain, only a tense discomfort. But he sure looked weird.

What the hell am I going to do, Stephen Thomas thought, if I can't learn the control?

The skin of his penis was soft and new and very sensitive, so sensitive that touching it brought back the threat of pain.

"Fuck it," he muttered. "Or don't." He lay down and flung himself over, twisting himself in the blankets.

When Arachne signaled an urgent message, he wanted to ignore it, he wanted to refuse it. Instead, he struggled up again and accepted it.

"What?"

J.D.'s image appeared in his room.

"Victoria, Satoshi, Stephen Thomas," she said. Was it only his imagination, or had she hesitated before saying his name?

As she spoke, holograms of Victoria and Satoshi appeared nearby. Arachne oriented their images as if they were all in the observers' circle. Stephen Thomas could project his image and join them. He remained invisible. "Nerno's called me."

"We'll be right there!" Victoria said, excited.

"There's something else," J.D. said.

"What is it?" Satoshi asked.

"Nemo asked me ... to come alone. Alone on the Chi, I mean."

Stephen Thomas flopped back on the bed in disbelief.

,,I'm sorry," J.D. said. "I tried to . . . I'm sorry."

Zev's image appeared, too, in his usual place to J.D.'s left.

"I can't go, either," he said sadly. "Nerno won't let me.,,

"How can it stop us?" Stephen Thomas asked angrily.

J.D. glanced toward the place Stephen Thomas would be if he were sending his image. From her point of view, his voice would emanate from an empty spot in the air. From his point of view, she looked straight at him.

"I don't know," she said mildly. "But I also don't know that I want to find out."

Victoria, too, glanced toward Stephen Thomas's invisible presence.

"It isn't something we're going to test," she said. "It would be . . . bad manners."

"What the hell difference does it make?" Stephen Thomas said. "No matter what we do, we don't measure up to what Civilization expects of us. We might as well behave badly and get some benefit out of their shitty opinion."

"No." Victoria turned away from him. "And if you insist on being invisible, you can be invisible." She spoke to J.D. "Get ready. We'll be over to see you off. To help if we can."

"Oh, Victoria," J.D. said. "Why come all that way in this weather?" "Nonsense. We'll see you in a few minutes."

"All right." J.D. smiled, gratefully. "Thanks."

Her image faded out, and so did Victoria's.

What weather? Stephen Thomas wondered. A storm, like wild side's, on campus? Was I sleeping so hard I didn't even hear it? What the hell is going on?

Stephen Thomas went to the balcony door and

cupped his hands around his face to look outside. The night was bright with a layer of shining snow, and flakes drifted from the sky. He cracked the door open. Cold air washed over him. It felt alive, it felt like the bubbles in champagne. The snowflakes landed with a faint, musical, crinkling sound. "Stephen Thomas?"