His adviser looked doubtfully at him. 'I'm a little surprised,' he said, 'that UniComp's put the two of you together again.'
'So am I,' Chip said. 'But she's here. I saw her in the dining hall last night and again this morning.'
'Did you speak to her?'
'No.'
'I'll look into it,' his adviser said. 'If she is here and it makes you uncomfortable, of course we'll get you moved. Or get her moved. What's her nameber?'
'I don't remember all of it,' Chip said. 'Anna ST38P.'
His adviser called him early the next morning. 'You were mistaken, Li,' he said. 'It wasn't that member you saw. And by the way, she's Anna SG, not ST.'
'Are you sure she's not here?'
'Positive. She's in Afr.'
'That's a relief,' Chip said.
'And Li, instead of having your treatment Thursday, you're going to have it today.'
'I am?'
'Yes. At one-thirty.'
'All right,' he said. 'Thank you, Jesus.'
'Thank Uni.'
He had three cake wrappers folded and hidden in the back of his desk drawer. He took one out, went into the bathroom, and began making a bandage.
She was in Afr. It was nearer than Ind but still an ocean away. And the width of Usa besides.
His parents were there, in '71334; he would wait a few weeks and then claim a visit. It was a little under two years since he had seen them last; there was a fair chance that the claim would be granted. Once in Afr he could call her—pretend to have an injured arm, get a child to touch the plate of an outdoor phone for him—and find out her exact location.
Hello, finna SG. I hope you're as well as I am. What city are you in?
And then what? Walk there? Claim a car ride to someplace near, an installation involved with genetics in one way or another? Would Uni realize what he was up to?
But even if it all happened, even if he got to her, what would he do then? It was too much to hope that she too had lifted a leaf from a wet stone one day. No, fight it, she would be a normal member, as normal as he himself had been until a few months ago. And at his first abnormal word she would have backing was intact, unopened. He wrote on it, Yes, there are islands where members are free. Fight Uni!
Early one Sunday morning he set out for Cuba, with the compass and a map he had drawn in one of his pockets. In the bike's basket, Wei's Living Wisdom lay on a folded blanket along with a container of coke and a cake; within the blanket was his take-along kit, and in that were his razor and its sharpening stone, a bar of soap, his clippers, two cakes, the knife, a flashlight, cotton, a cartridge of tape, a snapshot of his parents and Papa Jan, and an extra set of coveralls.
Under his right sleeve there was a bandage on his arm, though if he were taken for treatment it would almost certainly be found. He wore sunglasses and smiled, pedaling southeast among other cyclists on the path toward '36081. Cars skimmed past in rhythmic sequence over the roadway that paralleled the path. Pebbles kicked by the cars' airjets pinged now and then against the metal divider.
He stopped every hour or so and rested for a few minutes. He ate half a cake and drank some of the coke. He thought about Cuba, and what he would take from '33037 to trade there. He thought about the women on Cuba. Probably they would be attracted by a new arrival. They would be completely untreated, passionate beyond imagining, as beautiful as Lilac or even more beautiful...
He rode for five hours, and then he turned around and rode back.
He forced his mind to his assignment. He was the staff 663 in a medicenter's pediatrics division. It was boring work, endless gene examinations with little variation, and it was the sort of assignment from which one was seldom transferred. He would be there for the rest of his life.
Every four or five weeks he claimed a visit to his parents in Afr.
In February of 170 the claim was granted.
He got off the plane at four in the morning Afr time and went into the waiting room, holding his right elbow and looking uncomfortable, his kit slung on his left shoulder. The member who had got off the plane behind him, and who had helped him up when he had fallen, put her bracelet to a phone for him. 'Are you sure you're all right?' she asked. 'I'm fine,' he said, smiling. 'Thanks, and enjoy your visit.' To the phone he said, 'Anna SG38P2823.' The member went away.
The screen flashed and patterned as the connection was made, and then it went dark and stayed dark. She's been transferred, he thought; she's off the continent. He waited for the phone to tell him. But she said, 'Just a second, I can't—' and was there, blurry-close. She sat back down on the edge of her bed, rubbing her eyes, in pajamas. 'Who is it?' she asked. Behind her a member turned over. It was Saturday night. Or was she married? 'It's Li RM,' he said.
'Who?' she asked. She looked at him and leaned closer, blinking. She was more beautiful than he remembered; a little older-looking, beautiful. Were there ever such eyes?
'Li RM,' he said, making himself be only courteous, memberlike. 'Don't you remember? From IND26110, back in 162.'
Her brow contracted uneasily for an instant. 'Oh yes, of course,' she said, and smiled. 'Of course I remember. How are you, Li?'
'Very well,' he said. 'How are you?'
'Fine,' she said, and stopped smiling. 'Married?'
'No,' she said. 'I'm glad you called, Li. I want to thank you. You know, for helping me.'
'Thank Uni,' he said.
'No, no,' she said. 'Thank you. Belatedly.' She smiled again. 'I'm sorry to call at this hour,' he said. 'I'm passing through Afr on a transfer.'
'That's all right,' she said. 'I'm glad you did.'
'Where are you?' he asked. 'In '14509.'
'That's where my sister lives.'
'Really?' she said.
'Yes,' he said. 'Which building are you in?'
'P51.'
'She's in A-something.'
The member behind her sat up and she turned and said something to him. He smiled at Chip. She turned and said, 'This is Li XE.'
'Hello,' Chip said, thinking '14509, P51; '14509, P51. 'Hello, brother,' Li XE's lips said; his voice didn't reach the phone. 'Is something wrong with your arm?' Lilac asked.
He was still holding it. He let it go. 'No,' he said. 'I fell getting off the plane.'
'Oh, I'm sorry,' she said. She glanced beyond him. 'There's a member waiting,' she said. 'We'd better say good-by now.'
'Yes,' he said. 'Good-by. It was nice seeing you. You haven't changed at all.'
'Neither have you,' she said. 'Good-by, Li.' She rose and reached forward and was gone. He tapped off and gave way to the member behind him.
She was dead; a normal healthy member lying down now beside her boyfriend in '14509, P51. How could he risk talking to her of anything that wasn't as normal and healthy as she was? He should spend the day with his parents and fly back to Usa; go bicycling next Sunday and this time not turn back.
He walked around the waiting room. There was an outline map of Afr on one wall, with lights at the major cities and thin orange lines connecting them. Near the north was '14510, near where she was. Half the continent from '71330, where he was. An orange line connected the two lights.
He watched the flight-schedule signboard flashing and blinking, revising the Sunday 18 Feb schedule. A plane for '14510 was leaving at 8:20 in the evening, forty minutes before his own flight for USA33100.
He went to the glass that faced the field and watched members single-filing onto the escalator of the plane
