Sri was acutely aware that the wolf up on the dune crest could do the same to her in a moment, but never once looked towards it as she and the green saint walked along the tideline. Oscar poked at flotsam with his staff as he talked about parallels with the brief and one-sided war with Mars, rehashing old arguments.

'A hundred years ago, there was no doubt that we should have gone to war,' he said. 'The Martians tried to decimate Earth. We had to retaliate, or they would have tried it again. We could have occupied Mars, used it as a stepping stone to Saturn and Jupiter. Instead, we wrecked the entire planet like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum. And now I see it beginning to happen all over again.'

He lifted a tangle of kelp with the iron-shod point of his staff and slung it away across the sand, and immediately apologised to Sri for his ill-temper.

'I have had a bad day. A series of bad days. Too many people who should know better believe that this will be no more than a police action. They call for pacification, purification, prevention. What they will get instead is outright war, plain and simple. It may well destroy the Outer System cities completely, and then there is the risk that the surviving Outers will retaliate. That they may succeed where the Martians failed. On days like this I wonder if the radical greens weren't right after all. I wonder if Gaia might be better off without us. In time, some other species might start to look at the stars and wonder. Bears, perhaps. Or raccoons. Perhaps they will manage things better . . .'

They walked a little way in silence. When Oscar said they should turn back Sri felt something relax inside her, like a muscle uncramping. The meeting was coming to an end; perhaps the old man would finally come to the point. But they were halfway back to his hut before he broke his silence and said, 'How is your connection with Arvam these days?'

'I'll be happy to take a message to him.'

It cost her a great effort not to look at the machine that slinked along the crest of the dunes.

'If I want to speak to my nephew I can call him. I dandled him on my knee when he was a baby, saw him grow up. He was a fearless child, bright and forthright . . .' They walked a little way while Oscar looked at something in his head. At last he said, 'I know that the superbright project has ended. I was wondering if there were still formal interactions between your staff and his.'

'There are meetings now and again about potential new projects.'

Sri felt a tingling caution. She still didn't know just how much Oscar knew about the superbrights - the real superbrights, not the chimps. And she didn't know if he knew or suspected anything about the other programme.

'It would not be unusual to meet with his people.'

'Not at all. What do you want me to do?'

'It isn't much. And you're going to Brasilia anyway, yes? These intelligence hearings.'

'I was subpoenaed,' Sri said. 'I submitted a report immediately after my return, and now I have to go through it word by word in front of the security committee, under oath. It's not exactly a sign of trust.'

'I'm not accusing you of aiding our opponents,' Oscar said. 'They're looking for any and every excuse to hurt the Outers. I know you have no choice in the matter.'

'They're interviewing my son, too. Everyone who visited the Outer System in the last five years.'

'How is Alder? And Berry, too.'

'Alder is running his own office now, looking after the ongoing application of several of my old projects. Berry is still interested in natural history.'

'Alder is sixteen, yes? As precocious as his mother. You should have brought them with you, instead of leaving them in Carrizalito.'

'Perhaps next time.'

'I have something that I think Berry might like to see. Which reminds me - this little favour. Someone in my nephew's intelligence-analysis team is sympathetic to our cause. He tells me that his colleagues are under considerable pressure to produce reports that conform to the prejudices of their master rather than to the truth. He wants to give me the raw data which forms the basis of the report that the teams are presently preparing. I plan to have the data analysed by my own team, to see whether or not the conclusions by my nephew's people conform to truth or to prejudice. And as you and your people have formal lines of communication with Arvam's people, it seems to me that you would be the best person to take charge of the data and bring it to me in a safe and discreet fashion.'

Oscar gave Sri the name of the man who wanted to help him, told her that he was a senior officer within Arvam Peixoto's intelligence unit who would be able to invent a suitable excuse for meeting either with her or with one of her people.

'I'll do it myself,' Sri said.

'Good. Then you will bring it to me yourself, as soon as you can. We must counter my nephew's black propaganda and challenge his claims before they take root, yes?'

'I'll do what I can.'

Sri knew that she should take this straight to Arvam, tell him everything, let him decide Oscar's fate. It was the right thing to do for all kinds of reasons, not least her own safety, but Arvam was getting ready to depart for Saturn, and had no time and little patience for anyone opposing him. If he found out about this silly plot he would almost certainly use it as an excuse to humble and humiliate Oscar, strip him of any influence he might still have in the family, and cause as much damage as possible to the peace and reconciliation faction. And if Oscar's reputation was ruined, then Sri's would be tainted by association. Besides, she still felt a vestigial loyalty to her old mentor. So she would save him from his foolishness by doing nothing. She would wait a few days, she thought, and then send Oscar a message, tell him that she had failed. She'd find some way of dressing it up to look like it wasn't her fault; perhaps she could have Yamil kill this officer, make him disappear . . .

'It's all right to be afraid,' Oscar said, mistaking the nature of Sri's silence. 'These are dangerous times. I know that you are safe enough in your research facility in the Antarctic, but you should take care, my dear, when you are in Brasilia. You might even consider whether it is wise to be taking your sons with you.'

'Alder has been subpoenaed too.'

Oscar's gaze clouded for a moment. 'Oh yes. Of course. I'm sorry, my dear. I'm very distracted, these days.'

'You don't need to worry about me. I can look after myself.'

'You always were the best of my pupils.'

'I will never forget the debt I owe you,' Sri said.

She realised with a pang of sorrow and pity that their long relationship was at an end. After this, anything she still owed him would be cancelled. He would owe her, in fact. He would owe her his honour and his life, although he would never know it.

'There's something I want to show you before you leave,' Oscar said.

'The thing I think Berry will like. It won't take a moment.'

The green saint led Sri along the beach to a wire enclosure above the high-water mark.

'You're trying again with the turtles,' Sri said.

'Not exactly. Two females I released last year returned and laid eggs. When they hatch, they will produce the first generation of truly indigenous Kemp's ridley sea turtle for more than a century and a half.'

Oscar smiled with genuine, innocent pleasure. He looked strong still. Stooped like an ape, his broad shoulders mottled pink and brown from a recent round of phage treatment that had destroyed incipient sun-cancers. Indomitable and enduring.

'When everything seems hopeless,' he said, 'hope is what we have left. And sometimes it rewards our faith in it. Go now, my dear, and do what you must.'

Sri and her sons flew to Brasilia, and everything went wrong almost at once. On the road out of the airport, two police cruisers intercepted and boxed in Sri's limousine. Yamil Cho told the driver to pull over and said that he would ask the police what they wanted, but when he climbed out two officers slammed him against the side of the limousine, patted him down, and took away his pistol and handcuffed him. Watching all this through the tinted windows, Berry wanted to know if the police were going to shoot Yamil, and Alder said of course not, city police wouldn't dare interfere with family business, it was all a stupid mistake.

An officer opened the door beside Sri and told her to get out.

'You'll regret this,' Aider told him.

'Hush,' Sri said, and climbed out into hot sunlight and the rushing slipstream of vehicles speeding past. She was wondering if Arvam had found out about Oscar's plan and had decided to put an end to it by disappearing her. She felt quite calm, but there was a high singing in her head and a looseness in her knees as the officer gripped her elbow and guided her to one of the cruisers and told her to get in the back.

A trim young man in a black suit was sitting on the bench seat, turning his cool smile to Sri as she settled beside him, apologising for the melodrama. 'Unfortunately, we can't reach out to you through the normal channels.'

The cruiser creaked on its suspension as the officer climbed into the front seat, and then it cut out past the limousine and accelerated hard, its siren wailing.

'Don't worry,' the young man told Sri. 'Your sons and your secretary will be soon be on their way to your apartment.'

'And where are you taking me?'

'Euclides Peixoto would very much like to ask you a favour,' the young man said.

The police cruiser drove to the southern edge of Brasilia, climbed a winding street lined with lush vegetation and the high walls of the houses of the rich to the secluded villa where Euclides Peixoto kept one of his mistresses. Euclides was waiting for Sri in the inner courtyard. His mistress, a plump, motherly woman in her forties, set out a jug of iced coffee and plates of sweet pastries on the tile-topped table between their chairs, and left them alone.

Euclides assured Sri that the place was completely secure, regularly swept for bugs and guarded by a hand-picked cadre. No one would ever know that she had been here; they could talk freely. 'What I want you to do,'

he said, 'is tell me about the favour that my uncle wants from you. Tell me everything.'

'You already know everything. Otherwise you wouldn't have kidnapped me.'

'You're angry. And no doubt more than a little afraid. I understand. But there's no need to be afraid. Have I harmed or threatened your sons? No. I allowed them to go on to your apartment, with your secretary. Have I harmed or threatened you? No. I have invited you here because I want to help you. I want to save you from a terrible mistake. So, go ahead, tell me about this favour. And don't leave anything out.'

Sri knew that Euclides knew that Oscar had asked her to collect the damned data needle. Perhaps he, or more likely someone else in the family, who knew how deep it went, had bugged Oscar's hermitage. Or perhaps the person who was supposed to give it to her had been discovered, or was a double agent. It didn't matter. All that mattered was that Euclides, when he'd had his fill of cat-and-mousing her, was going to ask her to betray Oscar. It was the only possible reason why she had been brought here. She'd thought it through during the ride in the cruiser, examined it from every angle, and she knew exactly what she was going to be asked to do, and knew that she'd have to do it. She had been planning to protect Oscar from the consequences of his own foolish meddling, but that was impossible now. He was already doomed. All she could do was try to save herself, and her sons, and her work.

So she fixed her gaze a few centimetres to the left of Euclides Peixoto's face and, as dispassionately as she could, explained that Oscar was suspicious about the report concerning the Outers' capabilities and wanted her to reach out to a man inside Arvam Peixoto's intelligence team who was prepared to leak the raw data on which the report was based. She knew that she had no choice, but that didn't make it any less distasteful, or shaming.

'After you collected this data needle, you were supposed to take it straight to Oscar,' Euclides said. He lounged carelessly in his low chair, barechested, wearing only white trousers. His right arm was sheathed from shoulder to elbow in tattoos - stylised eagles and jaguar heads that looked vaguely Mayan.

'I was supposed to go straight back to him after I finished my business here,' Sri said.

'Straight to Oscar. No one else is involved.'

'No one else.'

For a long moment, the only sound was the plashing of the fountain in the centre of the shaded courtyard. Sri could feel her heart thumping in her chest like a caged animal.

Euclides said, 'Would you have done it? Would you have taken it to my uncle, laid it at his feet like an eager puppy?'

'I was considering my options.'

'You're a very clever woman, Professor Doctor. I'm sure that you had already decided what to do. Were you going to tell Arvam about the traitor?'

'I was thinking of having him killed. The traitor.'

'Before or after he gave you the data needle?'

'Does it matter now?'

'It matters to me that you are completely candid.'

'I didn't intend to take the data needle to Oscar. And I wasn't going to tell General Peixoto about it, either.'

'You were going to protect my uncle from the consequences of his own foolishness. How admirable.'

Sri waited out his silence, his bright and mocking gaze.

'It seems to me that my uncle has always been old,' Euclides said.

'He has a rich and glorious history, but now, much as I hate to say it, he's grown afraid of change. As far as he is concerned, the past is more important than the present. Because the past is fixed and familiar. Because there is so much in the present that he can no longer control or understand. See, that's why he's retreated to that hermitage of his. He's shrunk his world to a manageable size. Beachcombing. Those turtles. His vegetable garden. I don't mean to criticise. Quite the opposite. For someone of his advanced age, hobbies like that should be more than enough to occupy his days. And yet, as you well know, he can't stop meddling. He's no longer of the world, but he can't leave the world alone. Even though he no longer understands how things really are, he believes that he can still make a difference. Who is the traitor, by the way? You neglected to give his name.'

'Manuel Montagne.'

Sri felt nothing except a faint astonishment that she felt nothing. She had sentenced a man to death, and she felt nothing.

'Manuel Montagne,' Euclides said, relishing the taste of the name in his mouth. 'Lieutenant Colonel Manuel Montagne. A member of Arvam's personal staff. Well, you needn't feel guilty or remorseful, Professor Doctor. I already know that this Montagne values his own stupid moral qualms more than loyalty. I already know that he is a traitor. The question is, of course, does Arvam also know?'

'I have been absolutely honest with you,' Sri said. 'Remember that.'

'You made the right choice, and I am pleased that you did. You are an asset, Professor Doctor. Not just for your skill and ingenuity, but because my uncle only suspects that you are a traitor. He does not yet know.'

'I have always served the family to the best of my ability,' Sri said.

'Glad to hear it. Now, pay attention. This is what you will do. You will meet with Colonel Montagne, but you will not take the information that he gives you to my dear uncle. You will instead give him the information that I wish him to have. I know what you're thinking,' Euclides said. 'But don't you worry, Professor Doctor, I have no intention of harming you or your sons. As long as you do what I ask, that is. And I have no intention of harming my uncle, either. No, I want to prevent him from making a fool of himself. So this is what you will do. You will give him intelligence information that will show clearly that the Outers are not only planning an attack on our assets in the Saturn System, but they are also arming themselves to attack Earth. If he has hard evidence that the Outers are planning to go to war, it may convince him to give up his foolish attachment to the lost cause of peace and reconciliation.'

'I very much doubt that it will do anything of the kind. He failed to stop a war a century ago, and that makes him more determined to stop this one.'

'It's true that my uncle is a very stubborn man,' Euclides said. 'And very clever, and very cunning. The way he's testing your loyalty, with this little errand? But maybe I'm just as cunning. Once you've delivered the intel, I'll expose his man, Colonel Montagne. And the good colonel will give up the plot, by and by, and there'll be a scandal, and Oscar will be disgraced.'

'What about me?'

'You will have shown loyalty to the family rather than to a deluded old man. And you know he's deluded. What he doesn't understand, this isn't just about Earth versus the Outers, true humans versus so-called posthumans. It's a war of the generations. On both sides, we have been ruled by the very old for too long. They resist change. They see only what they want to see. Well, it is time to change all that. In fact, it is an historical inevitability. So I would advise you to give up your sentimental attachment to your mentor, Professor Doctor. Don't try to save him from himself. He'll only take you down with him.'

'I suppose I must let you know when I have arranged to meet with this colonel.'

'No need. I'll know all about it before you do. We're keeping a very close watch on him.'

'Does General Peixoto know about him? About this?'

'Arvam doesn't need to know anything about this,' Euclides said. 'He's far too busy on that ship of his, getting ready to leave for Saturn. He has a lot of work. A lot of preparations. He shouldn't be bothered with something like this. You understand?'

'Oh, I think I do.'

Sri knew that Euclides needed her to deliver the data needle, and that when she had done it, despite his assurances, her usefulness would be over, and she would most likely be killed.

'You'd better,' Euclides said. 'Oh, before you go. One more thing. The family thinks it would be best if you stayed in Brasilia for the time being.'

'I plan to return to Antarctica immediately after the deposition,' Sri said. 'Like General Peixoto, I have much work to do.'

'I'm sure there's nothing in your little kingdom of ice that you can't supervise just as easily here as there,' Euclides said. 'You'll be allowed to travel to my uncle's beach hut, of course, but you'll come straight back. And you'll stay right here. You and your sons.'

'My sons have nothing to do with this.'

'The family is concerned about your safety, and theirs. They will be safe here.'

'They will be hostages, you mean.'

'They will be safe. I promise. No, not another word. It has been decided, and what has been decided cannot be undone. Great changes are in the air. We need to keep everyone close in the next few weeks. Everyone important to us. And you, my dear Professor Doctor, are more important than most.'