T'sha flew into the tangle of life, angling herself vaguely to-ward her family's district. "Ca'aed, I need my brother T'deu. Where is he?"

"Your brother is in the promise trees."

Of course. T'sha beat her wings, turning her flight up toward the city's sculpted and vented ceiling. The promise trees were in this finger of the city. She would not have to snag a passing kite.

A solid turquoise and cream carapace encapsulated the promise trees and kept out not only the winds but all that the winds might carry. The ligaments that twined around its oval walls and anchored it to Ca'aed's living bones did not themselves live. They carried neither information nor nutrition and so could not be used to tamper with anything within the carapace.

The only entrance to the trees was a long tunnel that was so narrow that only one person at a time could fly its length. Pink and gold papillae tasted the air around each entrant, making sure that he or she was a free citizen of Ca'aed. If the entrant was a stranger to the city or an indenture, it made sure he or she had received permission from the city or a speakerto come. If not, the ends of the tunnel would seal and Ca'aed would call for the district's speaker.

Entering the trees was like flying straight into the canopy. It was a jungle of leaves, stems, branches, and trunks, all grown into one another.

They spread from the center of the room to the carapace. They climbed the walls, until patterns of inter-twining stems and roots covered the carapace's grainy hide. All the colors of growing life shone there in a delicate riot. It all appeared extremely fragile, but the slightest root was many times stronger than the thickest metal wire T'sha had ever touched.

It was as beautiful to T'sha as any temple.

Inside the trees' veins flowed the DNA records of every reg-istered promise of the world of Home. Not all promises were registered. Promises passed every day between friends and family that had no need to be here, but promises between businesses, between cities and villages, between ambassadors and any person or any city needed to be recorded. Their fine tendrils of implication needed to be tracked. In here were promises of marriage, merger, birth, inheritance, indenture, trade, service, and sale.

None of this luxuriant growth was necessary, of course. All of the promise registries could have been contained in a set of cortex boxes, and in a younger city it might have been, but the beauty and elaboration of Ca'aed was one of the aspects of it that T'sha had always loved about her city.

T'deu, T'sha's older brother, hovered near the top of the chamber, away from the other trackers and registrants who dot-ted the chamber. T'deu was an archiver, trained in the reading and tracking of promises. T'sha wove her way through the maze of stems and branches until the air of her passage brushed against him. Her brother turned on his wingtip and leaned forward, rubbing his muzzle joyfully against hers.

"Ambassador Sister!" he said, softly but happily. She and T'deu shared the same birth mother. His father had entered the marriage because of a political promise, and hers had been promised in to help his family when their city fell into trouble. She and T'deu had been raised together and never lost their friendship, even after they were both declared adults and sent out to make their own lives. "It is good to have you here, no matter what the circumstances."

"Thank you, Archiver Brother." T'sha pulled away just a lit-tle. "Youheard about Gaith."

He dipped his muzzle. "Ca'aed spread the word to the speakers, and the speakers have not been silent."

T'sha's bones bunched as she winced, but she smoothed them out.

"Brother, we need to redirect this wind. It is going to be used to rush us into an untenable situation."

T'deu peered up at her, as if he could see into her mind and touch her thoughts. "If you tell me so," he said, but he did not sound certain.

T'sha accepted his words and dismissed his tone. "I want us to bring Gaith's body here."

Her brother deflated in a long, slow motion. "That's dangerous, T'sha-"

"No, listen, there are advantages here. If we give Gaith's engineers the resources to regenerate and resurrect the city and they give us the knowledge and experience they gain from the task, we will be able to turn around and make our own promises with that information, should this strain of dis-ease spread."

"It will mean bringing in a potential contagion, though," T'deu reminded her. "You'll have to take a vote on that."

"I'll get the votes. Can you design me a promise that will do the job?"

"I can design anything you like." T'deu waved one wing at the maze of stems and branches around them. "I could grow you a tree that would outline ownership of the clouds above us. Implementing it-"

"Is my job," said T'sha, cutting him off. "Make sure you graft P'kan's engineers into its branches. They hold several promises against the city.

This will help close those down."

"Of course, Ambassador," T'deu said, deflating with mock servility.

"Anything else?"

"Should fresh thoughts sprout, I'll share them with you."

T'deu moved even closer, making sure his words reached only her.

"Why are you really doing this, Ambassador Sister? It is not only for theprofit of the city, or even for the good of Gaith."

"No," she admitted. For a moment she thought of telling him he did not need to know, but that was not true. To design a truly effective promise, he needed to know the ultimate goal, especially if the promise were complex, as promises dealing with cities ultimately were. Trying to integrate the wrong per-son could jeopardize the entire balance. "I want to be sure Gaith is studied, and studied immediately. If I leave it free for D'seun to take over, he'll fly the village's bones all around the world and show everyone what horrors we are exposing our-selves to if we don't all flock to New Home immediately."

"He'll still try to use Gaith's illness to overfly you," said T'deu.

T'sha shook her wings. "I won't let him. All D'seun's atten-tion is fixed on a single point. If he will not voluntarily see the whole horizon, he must be made to see."

T'deu dipped his muzzle again. "As my Ambassador Sister says. I'll start growing your promise."

"Thank you, Brother. Good luck." She brushed her muzzle against his briefly and launched herself back toward the entrance.

And now there are only a thousand meetings to arrange. The district speakers must hear all of this of course and be brought around. That could be expensive. I'll have to organize the pollers for a citywide referendum, but their schedule should be light right now, except for the poll D'seun has so thoughtfully called for. T'sha emerged from the tunnel into the filtered light of the city. She turned her flight toward the city center and her family's district where she kept her workspace. "Ca'aed?"

"Yes, Ambassador?" answered the city.

"Ca'aed, I have a case to put to you. It concerns your well-being, so I cannot move without you."

"What is it?"

As T'sha flew, she told Ca'aed her plan to bring Gaith to the city to allow Gaith's own citizens to effect its resurrection in re-turn for sharing their knowledge with Ca'aed's engineers, thus saving the Kan Gaith yearsof potential indenture for their food and shelter in some other city.

Ca'aed was silent for a moment. "We have the room to bring the Kan Gaith here," it said finally. "Our binding of promises with them is not strong or detailed, but there is some exchange that could be worked out."

Again, the city paused. T'sha suspected it was mulling over the conversation T'sha had held with T'deu. "We do need to know what infects Gaith," Ca'aed went on. "Yes, bring it here. I agree. I will start working on pre-cautionary plans so we can implement this action as soon as you have secured the people's votes."

"Thank you, Ca'aed," said T'sha earnestly. "This is not just to further my cause with the High Law Meet. There is good for all concerned here."

"Yes," answered Ca'aed. "I do comprehend the good in this."

Something in the city's voice kept T'sha from asking what else it comprehended.

T'sha's workspace was a small coral bubble in her family's compound.

The veins holding her records twined all around its insides, spreading out crooked tendrils of blue and purple. It was not as grand or complex a space as many ambassadors had, but T'sha preferred to work on the wing and conduct her meetings and requests in person.

This time though, that would be impossible. She needed all of her specially trained cortex boxes to organize a meeting of the city's thirty district speakers and coordinate their schedules. Each speaker, in turn, would have to reserve time with their chiefs and the pollers because this was a voting matter. The en-tire process would take dodec-hours.

T'sha was not even halfway finished when the room told her D'seun waited outside.

"Let him in," she said, reluctantly. She was not quite ready for him yet, but she had no polite way to delay.

D'seun drifted into her workspace. He looked shriveled and settled at once on a perch.

"Good luck, D'seun. Can I offer you some time in the re-fresher? Surely whatever you have to say can wait an hour or two until you are restored.""No, it cannot wait." He lifted his muzzle. "I must hear you say that you now understand that we cannot wait to find an-other world to be New Home. I must hear you say we will work together in this."

Shock swelled T'sha. That really was all he thought about. There was no swaying him, no changing the focus of his mind.

"I understand that we are not always as wise as we think we are," she told him fiercely, leaning forward from her own perch. "I understand that we might not know all the rules of life, and that if we act like we do, we are breeding disaster, for ourselves and for these New People."

"I respect your caution, Ambassador T'sha, but I cannot let it endanger us any further." Righteousness swelled D'seun to his fullest extent. "I will proceed with the poll of your families."

"I know that," replied T'sha calmly. "I'm already arranging time with the speakers and the pollers. You will have your vote."

D'seun cocked his head. His eyes examined her from crest to fingertip, trying to guess what made her so complacent. If he succeeded, he gave no sign. "Thank you for your cooperation then, Ambassador. I will wish you good luck and go prepare for the vote."

"Good luck, Ambassador D'seun." T'sha lifted her hands. D'seun lifted his briefly in return and flew away.

T'sha watched him go. There are advantages to dealing with someone whose attention has narrowed to a hairsbreadth, she thought. He has not yet thought to make a try for Gaith's body.

"Ambassador?" came Ca'aed's voice suddenly.

"Yes, Ca'aed?"

"I want you to know, I'm going to vote in favor of using D'seun's candidate for New Home."

"What?" T'sha stiffened. "Ca'aed, why?"

"Because I'm afraid, T'sha. I'm afraid that what happened to Gaith will happen to me and to you."T'sha shriveled in on herself as the city's words washed through her.

Ca'aed was afraid. She had never heard the city voice such a thought before. What could she do against that?

"We will protect you, Ca'aed," she murmured. "But who will protect the New People?"

"You will find a way."

T'sha dipped her muzzle. "I will have to."

Chapter Three.

"This is your seven a.m. wake-up," said the room's too sweet voice.

"This is your seven a.m. wake-up."

Around Veronica, the hotel suite woke up. The lights lifted to full morning brightness. In the sitting room, the coffeemaker began to gurgle and hiss, while a fresh lemon scent wafted out of the air ducts.

Vee, who had been awake for an hour already, looked up, sniffed the combination of coffee and lemon, and wrinkled her nose.

"Should've shut off one of those," she muttered.

She looked back down at the desk screen in front of her with its list of names, degrees, and recent publications. She frowned for a moment and then moved Martha Pruess to the top of the list. She was a research fellow in photonic engineering from the Massachusetts Federated Institute of Technology, and her list of publications took up half the screen.

"Checking out the competition?"

Vee jumped, twisting in her seat. Rosa Cristobal, her friend and business manager, stood right behind her chair. "Jesus, Rosa. Don't sneak up on me. It's too early."

"Sorry." Rosa tucked her hands into the pockets of her thick, terry-clothrobe. "But that is what you're doing?"

"Yeah." Vee sighed and tugged on a lock of her hair. "Rosa, I am not going to get this."

"They invited you," Rosa pointed out, as patiently and as firmly as if this were the first time she'd said it.

"Why?" Vee spread her hands. "They need scientists, engineers. I'm an artist, for God's sake. It's been years since I've set foot in a real lab."

"You've got a Ph.D. in planetary atmospherics and your name is sitting pretty on five different patents."

"Which you will remind them of." Vee dropped her gaze back down to the list. Actually, maybe Avram Elchohen should be at the top. He's got a few more papers on optoelectric engineering- "Which I will remind them of." Rosa reached over Vee's shoulder and touched the Off key. The desk screen blanked. "Get dressed, Vee. The interview's at nine and you do not want to be late."

"Yes, Rosa," said Vee in the tones of a child saying "Yes, Mommy." She got up meekly and headed for her bathroom. "And shut off the lemons, will you?"

"Yes, Vee."

After her shower, Vee dressed in an outfit she'd bought es-pecially for the interview-wide navy-blue slacks and a match-ing vest with matte buttons over a sky-blue silk blouse. She stepped into the makeup station and selected a minimalist set-ting. The mirror glowed gently as it scanned her face and sent color instructions to the waldos, which responded by laying on just a hint of bronze to highlight her cheekbones and jawline, and a touch of deep wine to her lips.

"Close your eyes please," said the same too sweet voice that had given the wake-up call. Vee did and felt a quick puff of powder. She opened her eyes. Now her lids had a hint of bur-gundy coloring and a discreet sheen of gold dust glimmered on her cheeks, the very latest in conservo-chic.

"Routine complete," said the station.Vee studied herself in the mirror for a minute. It was a good face, with high cheekbones, strong nose, soft chin. Her brows were so pale as to be almost nonexistent. The rest of her was what she called "Nordic swizzle-stick fashion," very long, very white, and very thin. "Handy for hiding behind flagpoles," she liked to joke.

Vee wound her mane of silver-blond hair into a tidy coil and pinned it in place. She selected a scarf that matched her blouse and fastened it so it covered her head but fluttered freely down over her shoulders. She nodded at her reflection, pleased. The effect was businesslike but not stuffy. It said that here was a person to be taken seriously.

Vee had been stunned when she saw the v-mail message from the Colonial Affairs Committee. She had sat in front of her living room view screen for ten full minutes, playing and replaying the recording.

"Hello, Dr. Hatch. I'm Edmund Waicek of the United Nations Colonial Affairs Committee Special Work Group on Venus."

Good breath-control exercise there, Vee remembered thinking, facetiously. Edmund Waicek was a tall man with red-brown skin and black eyes. A round, beaded cap covered his thick copper hair. His age was indeterminate and his clothing immaculate.

"As I am sure you are aware, there has been a remarkable discovery made on the world of Venus. We have found what appears to be the remains of an alien base or facility of some kind. Because of the vastly important nature of this develop-ment, the C.A.C. has decided to assemble a team of specialists to examine and evaluate the discovery." He leaned forward and flashed a smile full of carefully calculated sincerity. "We have reviewed your academic record and subsequent accom-plishments, and we would like to invite you to participate in the interview process to see if you can take your place on this historic mission." His expression grew solemn. "We will need your answer by Tuesday the eighteenth at nine a.m., your local time. Thank you for your attention to this matter. I look for-ward to meeting you."

The Discovery on Venus. Of course Vee had heard of it. It was a solid indication that there had once been alien life inside the solar system, an idea that had been given up on years be-fore Vee had even been born.

When she was feeling cynical, she would tell herself it was nothing more than three holes in the ground. Except it was. It was three holes in theground dug by nothing human, and they had left behind what everyone was certain was a laser, or maybe it was a laser component of a larger machine.

It was that laser they wanted her to go up and take a look at. Well, they wanted someone to go up and take a look at it, and her name, somehow, had made the short list.

Veronica Hatch, science popularizer, temperamental artiste, and noted personality. The U.N. was setting all that aside and going back to the part of her that was Dr. Hatch, the part that had patents and papers and could do actual work.