Ana knows the one Jax is referring to: newly released by an uploading research team, it shows a white mouse being flash-frozen and then vaporized, one micrometer at a time, into curls of smoke by a scanning electron beam, and then instantiated in a test scape where it's virtually thawed and awakened. The mouse immediately has a seizure, convulsing piteously for a couple of subjective minutes before it dies. It's currently the record-holder for longest survival time for an uploaded mammal.

"Nothing like that will happen to you," she a.s.sures him.

"You mean I not remember if happens," says Jax. "I only remember if transition successful."

"No one's going to run you, or anyone else, on an untested engine. When Neuroblast has been ported, we'll run test suites on it and fix all the bugs before we run a digient. Those test suites don't feel anything."

"Researchers ran test suites before they uploaded mice?"

Jax is good at asking the tough questions. "The mice were the test suites," Ana admits. "But that's because no one has the source code to organic brains, so they can't write test suites that are simpler than real mice. We have the source code for Neuroblast, so we don't have that problem."

"But you don't have money afford port."

"No, not right now, but we're going to get it." She hopes she sounds more confident than she feels.

"How I help? How I make money?"

"Thanks, Jax, but right now there isn't a way for you to make money," she says. "For now your job is to just keep studying and do well in your cla.s.ses."

"Yes, know that: now study, later do other things. What if now I get loan, then pay back later when earn money?"

"Let me worry about that, Jax."

Jax looks glum. "Okay."

In fact, what Jax suggests is almost exactly what the user group has attempted recently by looking for corporate investors. It's an avenue opened up by VirlFriday's success in selling digients as personal a.s.sistants. It took several years, but Talbot finally managed to raise an instance of Andro that would work for anyone; VirlFriday has sold hundreds of thousands of copies. It's the first demonstration that a digient can actually be profitable, and several other companies are looking to duplicate Talbot's achievement.

One of those companies is called Polytope, who've announced plans for launching an enormous breeding program to create the next Andro. The user group contacted them and offered them a stake in the Neuroblast digients' future: in exchange for paying to port the Neuroblast engine, Polytope would get a pecentage of any income generated by the digients in perpetuity. The group was more hopeful than it had been in months, but the company's answer was no; the only digients that Polytope is interested in are Sophonce digients, whose obsessive focus is a necessity if they're going to replace conventional software.

The user group has briefly discussed the possibility of paying for the port out of their own pockets, but it's clearly not feasible. As a result, some members are considering the unthinkable: FROM: Stuart Gust I hate being the one to bring this up, but someone has to. What about temporarily suspending the digients for a year or so, until we've raised the money for the port? I hate being the one to bring this up, but someone has to. What about temporarily suspending the digients for a year or so, until we've raised the money for the port?

FROM: Derek Brooks You know what happens when anyone suspends their digient. Temporary becomes indefinite becomes permanent. You know what happens when anyone suspends their digient. Temporary becomes indefinite becomes permanent.

FROM: Ana Alvarado I couldn't agree more. It's just too easy to get into perpetual postponement mode. Have you ever heard of anyone restarting a digient that they'd suspended for more than six months? I haven't. I couldn't agree more. It's just too easy to get into perpetual postponement mode. Have you ever heard of anyone restarting a digient that they'd suspended for more than six months? I haven't.

FROM: Stuart Gust But we're not like those people. They suspended their digients because they were tired of them. We'll miss our digients every day that they're suspended; it'll be an incentive for us to raise the money. But we're not like those people. They suspended their digients because they were tired of them. We'll miss our digients every day that they're suspended; it'll be an incentive for us to raise the money.

FROM: Ana Alvarado If you think suspending Zaff will increase your motivation, go ahead. Keeping Jax awake is what keeps me motivated. If you think suspending Zaff will increase your motivation, go ahead. Keeping Jax awake is what keeps me motivated.

Ana has no doubts when she posts her reply on the forum, but the conversation is more difficult when, a few days later, Jax brings up the issue himself. The two of them are in the private Data Earth, where she is showing him around a new game continent. It's a cla.s.sic, one that Ana enjoyed years ago, and it's recently been released for free, so the user group instantiated a copy for the digients. She tries to convey her enthusiasm for it, pointing out what distinguishes it from the other game continents that the digients have grown bored with, but Jax sees the continent for what it is: yet another attempt to keep him occupied while they wait for Neuroblast to be ported.

As they walk through a deserted medieval town square, Jax says, "Sometimes wish I just be suspended, not have to wait more. Restarted when I can enter Real s.p.a.ce, feel like no time pa.s.sed."

The comment catches Ana off-guard. None of the digients have access to the user-group forums, so Jax must have come up with the idea on his own. "Do you really want that?" she asks.

"Not really. Want stay awake, know what happening. But sometimes get frustrated." Then, he asks, "You sometimes wish you don't have take care me?"

She makes sure Jax is looking her in the face before she replies. "My life might be simpler if I didn't have you to take care of, but it wouldn't be as happy. I love you, Jax."

"Love you too."

Driving home from work, Derek gets a message from Ana saying that she'd been contacted by someone at Polytope, so as soon as he gets home he calls her. "So what happened?" he asks.

Ana looks bemused. "It was a very strange call."

"Strange how?"

"They're offering me a job."

"Really? Doing what?"

"Training their Sophonce digients," she says. "Because of all my previous experience, they want me to be the team leader. They offered a great salary, three years guaranteed employment, and a signing bonus that's, frankly, fabulous. There's a catch, though."

"Well? Don't keep me in suspense."

"All their trainers are required to use InstantRapport."

Derek's eyes widen. "You're kidding," he says. InstantRapport is one of the smart transdermals, a patch that delivers doses of an oxytocin-opioid c.o.c.ktail whenever the wearer is in the presence of a specific person. It's used to strengthen rocky marriages and strained parent-child relationships, and it's recently become available without a prescription. "What the h.e.l.l for?"

"They figure that affection will produce better results, and the only way trainers will feel affection for Sophonce digients is with pharmaceutical intervention."

"Oh, I get it. It's a way to increase employee productivity." He knows plenty of people who take nootropics or use transcranial magnetic stimulation to boost their performance at work, but so far no employer has make it a requirement. He shakes his head in disbelief. "If their digients are so hard to love, you would think they'd take a hint and switch to Neuroblast digients."

"I said something similar to them, but they weren't interested. I had an idea, though." Ana leans forward. "I might be able to change their minds if I go work for them."

"How do you figure?"

"It'd be an opportunity to show Jax to Polytope's management on an ongoing basis. I could log into our private Data Earth from work, maybe even bring him in wearing the robot body. What better way to demonstrate how versatile the Neuroblast engine is? And once they realize that, they'll port it to Real s.p.a.ce."

Derek considers it. "a.s.suming they don't forbid you from spending time with Jax during work hours - "

"Give me some credit. I wouldn't give them the hard sell; I'd be subtle about it."

"It might work," he says. "But they'd make you wear the InstantRapport patch. Is the chance worth that?"

Ana gives a frustrated shrug. "I don't know. It sure as h.e.l.l isn't my first choice. But sometimes we have to take a chance, right? Push things a little."

He isn't sure what to say. "What does Kyle think about it?"

She sighs. "He's totally against it. He doesn't like the idea of me taking InstantRapport, and he definitely doesn't think the chances are good enough to justify it." She pauses, and then says, "But he doesn't feel the same way about digients that you or I do, so of course he'd say that. For him, the payoff doesn't seem that big."

Ana's clearly expecting support and he obliges, but privately his thoughts are more conflicted. He has reservations about what she's proposing, but he's hesitant about saying so.

He hates that he has such thoughts, but on the occasion that Ana has mentioned having difficulties with Kyle, he daydreams about the two of them splitting up. He's told himself that he would never do anything to drive them apart, but if Kyle doesn't share Ana's commitment to the digients, Derek isn't doing anything wrong by showing that he does. If that suggests to Ana that he's a better match for her than Kyle, he can't be blamed for that.

The question is whether he really thinks it's a good idea for Ana to accept Polytope's job offer. He's not sure he does, but until he's sure, he's going to be supportive.

After he gets off the phone, Derek logs onto the private Data Earth to spend time with Marco and Polo. They're playing a game of zero-gee racquetball, but descend from the court when they see him.

"Met nice visitors today," says Marco.

"Really? Do you know who they were?"

"Person name Jennifer, and person name Roland."

Derek checks the visitor log, and is dismayed by what he sees: Jennifer Chase and Roland Michaels are employees of a company called Binary Desire, makers of s.e.x dolls both virtual and physical.

This isn't the first time the user group has received an inquiry from someone wanting to use the digients for s.e.x. The vast majority of s.e.x dolls are still controlled by conventional software to enact scripted scenarios, but for as long as there have been digients, there have been people trying to have s.e.x with them; the typical procedure is to copy a public-domain digient and reconfigure its reward map so that it enjoys whatever its owner finds arousing. Critics consider it the equivalent of having a dog lick peanut b.u.t.ter off your genitals, and it's not an unfair comparison, either in terms of the intelligence of the digients or the sophistication of the training. Certainly there aren't any digients remotely as person-like as Marco or Polo available for s.e.x right now, so the user group gets occasional inquiries from s.e.x-doll makers interested in purchasing copies of the digients. Everyone in the group has agreed that they should ignore such inquiries.

But according to the log, Chase and Michaels were escorted in by Felix Radcliffe.

Derek tells Marco and Polo to resume their game, and then calls Felix. "What the h.e.l.l were you thinking? Bringing in Binary Desire?"

"They did not attempt to s.e.x the digients."

"I can see that." He has the recording of their visit playing at double-speed in another window.

"They had conversation with them."

Talking to Felix sometimes feels like addressing an alien. "We had an understanding about s.e.x-doll makers. Do you remember that?"

"These people are not like the others. I like the way they think."

He's afraid to ask what that means. "If you like them, bring them to Data Mars and show them your Xenotherians."

"I did show them," says Felix. "They were not interested."

Of course they weren't, Derek realizes; the demand for s.e.x with Lojban-speaking tripods would be microscopic. But he sees that Felix is being honest, that it wouldn't bother him to prost.i.tute the Xenotherians if it would help finance his first-contact experiment. Felix may be eccentric, but he's not a hypocrite.

"Then that should have been the end of it," he says. "We may have to ban you from Data Earth."

"You should talk to these people."

"No, we shouldn't."

"They will pay you for listening to them. They will send a message containing the specifics."

Derek almost laughs. Binary Desire must be pretty desperate if they're paying people to listen to a sales pitch. "Messages are fine. But I'm putting those people on the ban list, and I don't want you bringing in anyone else from a s.e.x-doll maker. Is that clear?"

"That is clear," says Felix, and hangs up.

Derek shakes his head. Normally he wouldn't consider listening to such a sales pitch, even for money, because he doesn't want to give the impression that he'd be willing to sell Marco and Polo as s.e.x objects.

But right now the user group needs every dollar it can get. If listening to one company's presentation could encourage other companies to pay for the same opportunity, then it might be worthwhile. He restarts the video of the visitors' meeting with the digients and watches it at regular speed.

Chapter 8.

The user group has gathered to listen to Binary Desire's presentation via videoconferencing; Binary Desire has made a payment to an escrow service, and the funds will be released after the meeting. Seated at the focus of her wraparound screen, Ana looks around her; everyone's video feeds are integrated so that the user group appears to be gathered in a virtual auditorium, each sitting in a tiny private balcony. Derek's sitting in the balcony to her left, and Felix in turn is to his left. At the podium on stage is Binary's representative Jennifer Chase. Her image onscreen is blond and beautiful and tastefully dressed, and because the parties have agreed to use authenticated video, Ana knows this is how Chase actually looks. She wonders if Binary Desire a.s.signs Chase to do all their negotiations; the woman is probably very good at getting what she asks for.

Felix stands up in his seat and starts to say something in Lojban before catching himself. "You will like what she will say," he says.

"Thank you, Felix, but let me take it from here," says Chase. Felix sits back down, and Chase addresses the group.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. Typically when I meet with a prospective business partner, I talk about how Binary Desire can help them reach a wider market than they can themselves, but I'm not going to do that with you. My goal for this meeting is to a.s.sure you that your digients will be treated with respect. We don't want pets that have been s.e.xualized through simple operant conditioning. We want beings that engage in s.e.x at a higher, more personal level."

Stuart calls out, "How do you expect to get that when our digients are completely as.e.xual?"

Chase doesn't miss a beat. "With two years of training, minimum."

Ana's surprised. "That's a major investment," she says. "I thought digient s.e.x-dolls were usually trained for a couple of weeks."

"That's because they're usually Sophonce digients, and they don't become better s.e.x partners in two years than they do in two weeks. I don't know if you've seen the results, but if you're curious, I can tell you where you can find a harem of Draytas dressed in Marilyn Monroe avatars, all bleating Wanna suck d.i.c.k Wanna suck d.i.c.k. It's not pretty."

Ana laughs despite herself, as do several others in the group. "No, it doesn't sound like it."

"That's not what Binary Desire is looking for. Anyone can take a public-domain digient and reconfigure its reward map. We want to offer s.e.x partners with real personality, and we're willing to invest the effort needed to create that."

"So what would your training entail?" asks Helen Costas, from the back.

"First off, s.e.xual discovery and exploration. We'd give the digients anatomically-correct avatars and let them get accustomed to having erogenous zones. We'd encourage the digients to begin s.e.xual experimentation with each other, so they can get some practice as s.e.xual beings and choose a gender they're comfortable with. Since much of the learning during that phase will occur purely among themselves, there may be periods where the digients can be run at faster than real time. Once they've acquired a reasonable amount of experience, we'll begin bonding them with compatible human partners."

"What makes you so sure they'll bond with a specific human?" asks Derek.

"Our developers have examined some of the digients in the shelters; they're too young for our purposes, but they've developed emotional attachments, and our developers have done enough a.n.a.lysis that they believe they can induce similar attachments in older digients. As the digient gets to know a human, we'll enhance the emotional dimension of their interactions, both s.e.xual and non-s.e.xual, so they'll generate love in the digient."

"Like a Neuroblast version of InstantRapport," says Ana.

"Something like that," says Chase, "but more effective and specific, because it'll be custom-tuned. For the digient, it will be indistinguishable from falling in love spontaneously."

"That custom-tuning doesn't sound like something you'll be able to get right on the first try," says Ana.

"No, of course not," says Chase. "We expect that it will take months for a digient to fall in love; throughout that period we'll be working with the customer, rolling the digient back to checkpoints and trying different adjustments until the emotional bond is firmly established. It'll be like the breeding program you managed when you worked at Blue Gamma; we're just tailoring it for the individual customer."

Ana's about to say that it's very different, but decides not to. All she needs to do is listen to the woman's sales pitch, not refute it. "I can see what you mean," she says.

Derek says, "Even if you can make them fall in love, none of our digients is going to be a convincing Marilyn Monroe."

"No, but that's not our goal. The avatars we'd give them would be humanoid, but not human. You see, we're not trying to duplicate the experience of s.e.x with a human being; we want to provide non-human partners that are charming, affectionate, and genuinely enthusiastic about s.e.x. Binary Desire believes this is a new s.e.xual frontier."

"A new s.e.xual frontier?" says Stuart. "You mean popularizing a kink until it becomes mainstream."