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technique. And with all the eyeballs on her, he
would have more opportunity to move about unnoticed.
    But Cheryl’s pride was in her work and in her relationships
with those around her. Frivolous behavior—dressing up and showing off—wasn’t
her style and made her uncomfortable. Maybe next time , he decided.
    For himself, Sid planned to follow his intuition and react
on the fly. He’d start by checking in with the local Union of Nations contacts
to get their take. Then he’d identify a few citizens who were dissatisfied with
the current politics and would help him navigate the local scene.
    “It’s later.”
    He turned to see Cheryl, standing just inside the
passageway, smiling at him. Barefoot and wrapped in a white silk robe, she
turned and walked back to her room.
    Recalling her earlier promise, Sid popped upright in his
chair. In his excitement, he dribbled his coffee onto the deck.
    * * *
    Alex sat next to Anya and across from
Marcus at the table outside the shed. “Thanks for coming.”
    “How can I help?” asked Marcus.
    “I’m concerned about the environment the Triada is creating
here in the colony and I’m looking to compare notes with others who feel the
same.”
    “What do you think of this one?” Marcus tilted his head
toward the Green on the rise.
    Alex looked past Marcus and saw two Greens. One of them
seemed to be working on an irrigation pipe on the far side of the neighboring
garden. The other stood at the edge of the pipe run and looked toward them,
arms folded, chin held high, and chest puffed out in an unmistakable swagger.
    Rubbing his neck in a thoughtful fashion, Alex stared at the
interlopers and considered the scolding from Marcus, who was adamant that all
synbods were interchangeable and that the appearance of these two on the rise
somehow supported his theory.
    No doubt that one is acting out of character. He
stared straight at the man in the gray jumpsuit, and the humanoid stared back.
    Alex knew from his professional training that upon first
awakening, synbods indeed were interchangeable biomachines, just as Marcus
claimed. But each carried a three-gen AI crystal. By no means sentient, these
capable AI would mature over time and become unique personalities that
reflected their training and individual experiences.
    In fact, Larry, the Blue who worked with him on the four-gen
crystal fab project at the tech center, was an example of this. Larry had gone
through a rapid transformation and now asked probing questions and offered
thoughtful suggestions, some of which helped Alex with his planning. And he’d
become encouraging and supportive, giving Alex the confidence to move faster as
he finalized details for the startup of the new crystal production facility.
    But, thinking back, Alex couldn’t say for certain whether
today’s Larry was the same as yesterday’s.
    Contemplating that disorienting thought, Alex reassessed the
behavior of the swaggering Green on the rise. He’d no sooner started his
evaluation, though, when the humanoid’s defiant posture seemed to deflate.
Dropping his hands to his sides and relaxing his shoulders, the Green turned
and helped the other stow some gear. Climbing into their vehicle, they started
back the way they’d come.
    Marcus stood up from the table as the lorry disappeared in
the distance, then gestured toward the shed with his open palm. “Do you mind if
we step into your office?”
    Opening the door, Anya led the way. “That was uncomfortable,”
she said of the Green’s uncharacteristic behavior. She cleared stray gardening
supplies off two crates and, tilting each one in turn, banged them on the floor
to dislodge loose dirt sitting on top. She then positioned them facing each
other in the center of the tiny enclosed space.
    Marcus sat on one, activated his com, and studied a display
Alex couldn’t see. Before Alex could get comfortable on the other crate, Anya
waved her hand to indicate he should scoot over. When he did, she squeezed