The Caryatids

"The boss never treats you like a woman should be treated around here," Karen told her. "I have something that will change your mood, though." Karen handed over a box with a handwritten card and a curly velvet ribbon.

"Karen, what is this about?"

"Your niece came here to our barracks this morning," said Karen. "While you were being debriefed. She's the only little girl on this whole island. She walked straight into here, right up that aisle, through that big mess piled there. Like a princess, like she was born in here. The place was full of grown-ups wearing skeletons. Tough guys. Changing shifts. You know. Naked people. She wasn't one bit scared! She even sang them a little song. Something about her favorite foods: soup and cookies!"

"'Soup and cookies'?" said Vera unbelieving, though Karen never lied.

"The cadres couldn't believe that either! They never saw anything like that! That kid can really sing, too-you should have heard them cheer! Then she left this beautiful gift just for you."

Vera kept her face stiff, but she could feel herself gritting her teeth.

Karen, as always, was keen to sympathize. "We couldn't help but love that 'Little Mary Montalban.' I know someday she'll be a big star." Karen bounced on the stainless pink fabric of her surplus medical cot. "So, do it! Open this gift from your weird estranged niece! I'm dying to see what she brought for you!"

"Since you're so excited, you can open that."

Karen sniffed the scented gift card and ripped into the wrappings. She removed a crystal ball.

The crystal ball held a little world. A captive bubble of water. It was a biosphere. Herbert often mentioned them. They were modeling tools for environmental studies.

Biospheres were clever toys, but unstable, since their tiny ecosystems were so frail.

Biospheres were pretty at first, but they had horribly brief lives. Sooner or later, disaster was sure to strike that little world. Living systems were never as neat and efficient as clockworks. Biology wasn't machinery. So, as time passed, some aspect of the miniature world would depart from the normal parameters. Some vital salt or mineral might leach out against the glass. Some keystone microbe might die off-or else bloom crazily, killing everything else.

A biosphere was a crystal world that guaranteed doom.

Karen peered through the shining bubble, her freckled cheekbones warping in reflection. "This is so clever and pretty! What do people call this?"

"I'd call that a 'thanatosphere.'"

"Well! What a name!" Karen deftly tossed the gleaming ball from hand to hand. "Why that big sour face? Your gift from that princess is fit for a queen!" Watery rainbows chased themselves across Vera's blanket.

"That toy comes from a rich Dispensation banker. He's a spy, and that's a bribe. That's the truth."

Karen blinked. "Rich bankers are giving you gifts? Well then! You're coming up in the world! I always said you would."

"I don't need that toy. I don't want it. You can keep it."

"Truly?" Karen caressed the crystal with her cheek. "Won't somebody get mad about that?"

"Nobody from the Acquis. Nobody that matters to us."

"Well, I'm so happy to have this! You're very generous, Vera! That is one of your finest character traits."

Now Karen was intrigued, so she really bored in. "I've heard a lot of stories about toys like this. Dispensation people are crazy for their fancy gifts and gadgets. They're big collectors' items, from high society! I bet this toy is worth a lot of cash."

Vera methodically ripped the gift box to shreds. It was lined with velvet, with slender walls made of some fine alien substance, like parchment. It smelled like fresh bamboo. "They call their toys 'hobjects.'"

"Oh yeah. I knew that, too." Karen clutched the ball. "Wow, Vera, I privately own a fancy hobject! I feel so glamorous!"

"Karen, don't manifest sarcastically. Only little kids take candy from strangers."

Karen was hurt by this reproof. "But Little Mary is a little kid."

"That toy is sure to rot soon. It'll turn dark and ugly."

Karen rolled the shining ball across the backs of her fingers. Karen's use of neural gauntlets had made her dexterous-if her boneware was much like a skeleton, her skeleton had become rather like boneware. "Now, Vera: What kind of dark, bleak attitude are you projecting at me here? This is a whole little world! Look at all this wonderful stuff floating around in here! There's a million pieces of it, and they're all connected! You know what? I think this little world has a little sensorweb built in!"

"Oh no," said Vera. "That would be perverse."

"This is art! It's an art hobject!"

Vera flinched. "Stop juggling it!"

Karen's brown eyes shone with glee. "I can see little shrimp! They're swimming around in there! They're jumbo shrimp!"

Karen's eager teasing had defeated her. Vera reached out.