Bardon shook his head. “You were lucky. You should have talked with me first. I would’ve warned you. If your food fad caught on, nanotech jvould duplicate it exactly and undersell you. But chances were, it couldn’t succeed in the first place. The computers dream up novelties of every kind raster than people can consume them, or even hear about them.”
“Well, I spent most of my life in a simpler world than yours,” Tu Shan sighed. “I made my mistake, I have learned my lesson. Now I have made more things for you.” He gestured at the box, which rested on his lap. “An elephant, a lotus pattern, and the Eight Immortals, carved in ivory.” Tank-grown ivory, but formed by hand, using traditional tools.
Bardon winced, tossed off a mouthful of whiskey, braced himself. “I’m sorry. You should have stayed in touch. I dosed down that business three years ago.”
Tu Shan sat mute.
“I don’t think anybody else is handUn’ stuff like this any more, either,” Bardon slogged ahead. “The value is gone. Uh, it’s not because they can grow perfect copies. Of course they can. The certification that it’s an original in a historic style, that made the difference. Till people stopped carin’.”
He hurried on into the silence: “They aren’t oafs. We haven’t turned into a race of featherheads, whatever you may be thinkin’. It’s just that, well, after you’ve got a few such items, do you want to spend the rest of eternity ac-quirin’ more? Especially when the computers keep gener-atin’ whole new concepts of art.”
“I see,” Tu Shan said. The words fell dull. “We, the Survivors, we have told and done everything that we had in us. … Well, what do you do these days, Anse?”
“Different things,” Bardon answered, relieved. “Like you and your friends should.”
“What are yours?”
“M-m, well, I’m lookin’ around. Haven’t found any promisin’ line of work yet, but—oh, we’ve got our lives to develop, don’t we? Me, I think I might go into Pioneer Land for a while.” Bardon brightened. “You should try somethin’ like that. An Asian networkin’, maybe. You’d have a lot to contribute, with your background.”
Tu Shan shook his head. “Thank you, no.”
“Really, you don’t just lie around in an electronic dream. You give input to the network, to everybody else linked with you. You come out with memories the same as though you’d lived it in the flesh.”
Illusion twice over, Tu Shan thought.
“Are you scared you won’t be earnin’ anything meanwhile?” persisted Bardon. “Don’t worry. You told me you recovered your losses on the farm. Basic share will be plenty for you while you’re in retreat. Why, you should come out refreshed, full of ideas for new enterprises.”
“You may,” Tu Shan mumbled. “I would not.” He stared down at his hands where they lay on the box, his big useless hands.
FIERA, WHO had been Raphael, formed a slow smile. “Oh, yes,” she purred. “I do enjoy being a woman.”
“Will you always be?” asked Aliyat; and inwardly: Did he always want this, down underneath? Even when we were making love?
Half a cry: You were such a fine lover, Ray! Strong, sweet, knowing. Did you understand how it hurt when you told me you were going to get yourself remade?
The beautiful head shook. Tresses, naturally violet, rippled over shoulders. “I think not. Long enough to explore it, however long that may be. Afterward—we’ll see. By then they expect to have nonhuman modifications perfected.” Fiera stroked fingers down her flanks. “Half otter, or dolphin, or snake— But that’s for later, much later. I imagine first I’ll be some kind of man again.”
“Some kind!” escaped Aliyat.
Fiera raised her brows. “You are dismayed, are you not? Poor dear, is that why I’ve had no word or sign of you in all this time?”
“No, I, well—“ Aliyat looked away from the image that seemed wholly solid. “I was—“ She forced herself to meet the golden gaze. “I thought you didn’t care about me any more.”
“But I told you I did. Believe me, I was sincere. I still care. Why else would I finally have taken the initiative?” Hands reached out. “Aliyat, darling, come to me. Or let me come to you.”