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the shapes each individual left behind remained forever a part of the reef’s branching pattern. Some of the reefs still exist as fossils even now. The interesting question is whether the corals exercised free choice in the shapes they created. It would be comforting to believe so.”
    The host bleated some forgettable quip, but I didn’t hear it. Jin’s answer stayed with me. D’accord, I had to think about those corals.
    My browsing turned up reports about Jin’s father as well. Lord Suradon Sura, the chief of Pacific.Com. As a young man, Suradon had single-handedly set his Javanese house at the top of the Pacific.Com power structure—and left resentments in his wake. The proud old families of mainland Asia disliked answering to a brown-skinned, round-eyed Islander. In concession, or maybe in snide mockery, Suradon had had his eyelids cosmetically altered to assume the epicanthic fold. I figured a man like that had to be cynical and ruthless, but the archive photos always showed him smiling. He looked positively jolly. Apparently, something about the world really tickled Lord Suradon. I stored these bits of trivia at the back of my mind—who knows why?
    Even as I wasted my days in depositions and lawsuits, the Net sang with rumors of insurgency. Rebels in the northern cities. Secret arrests. Hints of barbarism. Just as the year was ending, Jin and I met unexpectedly at an airport in Godthaab. Already, Euro had grown restive with checkpoints and curfews, but Greenland.Com’s capitol remained pristine, sterile in its opulence, too well policed for any unpleasantness to occur.
    Luc and I were herding weary clients through a private gate. We had just returned from a six-day/five-night adventure in the open Arctic Sea. My chalk white hair was matted to my skull. I hadn’t showered, and ray temper was brittle. This trip had been more than usually fatiguing.
    And mere stood Jin, holding a jacket in his hand. “La Sauvage. Well, well.” His whole bearing radiated glamour. Cinnamon tan. Slim, muscular elegance. Stylish clothes. He crossed his arms and looked me up and down. “The wild one returns from battle, wounded but unyielding.”
    I was wearing grimy shorts, and my bare knees were scraped raw. A tussle with a submarine tiller in high seas had thrown me against a bulkhead. No big deal. I hadn’t bothered with bandages. Suddenly, those scrapes made me feel like a juvenile.
    “Your cranium doesn’t look any bigger,” I challenged, scowling to cover my embarrassment “No brain enhancement? I expected bulging eyes at least.”
    “Miracles occur in their own time, pretty Jolie.” He smiled with those perfect movie star teeth. He seemed genuinely pleased to see me. “You’re just getting in? Let’s have dinner. Don’t tell me you’re tired. I won’t believe you.”
    Considering our previous encounter, you may ask if I thought twice before accepting his invitation. Sure I did. I bought a quick shower and had my eyelashes done and spent way too much on a dress in one of the airport shops. I was ready in half an hour.
    At first, Jin couldn’t decide what sort of food he wanted. He asked me what I liked, and we surfed the local Net, browsing dozens of menus. Even so, we buzzed past five different restaurants, and he kept discussing cuisine. I began to note a trend. Gorgeous, charming, polished, Jin was certainly all that, but the man had a serious problem making up his mind. Me, I was hungry. My stomach was growling.
    We ended up at some posh watering hole in one of those white-terraced buildings overlooking Godthaab’s central shopping plaza. Artificial trees swayed in artificial breezes, and lights twinkled in overhead holograms, suggesting a starry sky. The cyberservants were designed to appear human. We drank wine made from real hothouse grapes—the first I’d ever tasted. Is there any wonder it went to my head? Jin asked about my latest trip, and he listened to my answers. He really seemed to be glad of