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chances are slim though, you must admit.’
    â€˜They’re better than they were yesterday.’
    â€˜I guess.’ Janil looked unconvinced. ‘So what happens now? Do we make an announcement? Get the webbers in to record it all for posterity?’
    â€˜Sky, no! The last thing we want is word of this getting out. If the citizens learn that we’ve got her, the next thing they’ll want to know is why. And that information …’
    â€˜â€¦ would set the city on fire,’ Janil finished for him. ‘So what, then?’
    â€˜I’ll tell the Prelate, right away. We’ll meet later today, I imagine, and sort out a plan of attack.’
    â€˜Will I be involved?’
    â€˜Of course.’
    By this time the two had made their way up the tight staircase into obs. Below, through the clearcrete windows, the girl lay on her white pedestal in the exposure chamber, looking like a darkened corpse. Dernan Mann crossed to the window and gazed down for a few seconds, then turned to face his elder son. There was no other way to do this and probably no better time, he decided.
    â€˜I’ll also be bringing your brother into the project. As of today.’ For a moment Mann thought his son was going to laugh. Janil’s mouth twitched into a sort of half-smile, amused and slightly incredulous. His mother used to do the same thing. The smile quickly faded, though.
    â€˜You’re joking, right?’
    â€˜No, Janil.’ Mann shook his head. ‘At the same time as I inform the Prelate of our recovery of this subject, I’ll be requesting that she organise placement of Larinan to this project, to work with the two of us.’
    â€˜That’s ridiculous. He doesn’t know the first thing about subgenetics. He doesn’t even like the field …’
    â€˜Calm down, Janil. Of course I realise that Larinan hasn’t ever demonstrated an interest in our family’s field of expertise, but that doesn’t mean he won’t.’
    â€˜I could find you a hundred allocation-level students better suited to this project than the copygen …’
    â€˜This isn’t open to dabate, Janil.’ The rebuke stopped his son midsentence. He’d spoken more harshly than he’d intended, as always seemed to happen when he and Janil discussed Larinan. ‘Listen, son …’
    â€˜Forget it, Father.’ Janil turned on his heel and strode out into the security lock which led from obs into the main project lab. ‘I’m not even interested, you know that? Do whatever you want.’
    Dernan sighed as he watched his son go. He’d hoped that perhaps, with the excitement of finding the subject, Janil would be a little more open-minded, but when it came to Larinan, Janil had a chip the size of central on his shoulder. It was times like this that Dernan Mann wished he still had Eyna here to talk to. She was always the one who was good with the boys; she seemed to know how they worked, how they thought. Dernan had spent far too many hours alone in his lab and now felt like he understood the Subjects better than his own sons. Even Janil, who’d taken up where Eyna had left off, followed him into the family field, worked alongside him for five years and who had a mind and intellect to rival his own, could turn into a stranger in the blink of an eye.
    Alone, Mann made his own way out of the lock, through the main lab towards his office. The lab was starting to bustle now, as project workers and analysts arrived and began firing up their various terminals and equipment. He ignored the curious stares that were directed his way when a couple of other scientists noticed him emerge from the little-used exposure chamber. He’d have to put out some misinformation to explain his and Janil’s presence in there for the near future.
    In his office, he stared out through the clearcrete, where the city was waking, glittering and coming to life. The