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the soup from the rim as she sipped the broth. “It tastes better than I remembered.”

Nyk looked at the bowl with awe bordering on reverence. She showed him how to hold the chopsticks, but he felt it an awkward and unnatural action. She assured him it became easier with practice. He took a sip of the miso broth. The flavor seemed to call out through the generations. He felt connected to Koichi more strongly than ever. It seemed to resonate in his genes, stimulating some race memory going way back through space and time, beckoning him to his origins. He sat savoring the smoky, salty, mildly acrid flavor of the broth.

“Nykkyo, are you all right?”

He nodded. A tear ran down his face. “Suki, this is ... unbelievable ... unbelievable. How do you make this?”

“I cheated. I bought some freeze-dried miso soup and added the tofu and the carrots and onions. My mother taught me how to carve the carrots. To make it from scratch, you start with dashi...”

“What's dashi?

“It's a broth that's the basis for most Japanese cooking. It's made by steeping seaweed and... Oh! My God! I'm so sorry, Nykkyo! Dashi is made from fish!”

“It's all right. I'm not a vegetarian out of any particular conviction, only out of habit. This is very good, and it's the finest gift you've given me. I accept it in the spirit in which you gave it. Thank you.” He stood and embraced her. “Now, I understand.”

“Understand what?”

“What it means to be a child of your world. Florans aren't and never will be children of our world. Earth gave you life. Floran begrudgingly tolerates us living there. You draw nourishment from your sea. Dashi, miso, and countless other foods are all the mother's milk of your world. Our sea throbs with life, but none of it's edible. Our native life is unpalatable to the verge of toxic. You experienced meals on my world. We must struggle to produce some grains and lentils.” He kissed her. “That is why your miso soup is the finest gift.” He wiped tears from his eyes, sat and again savored the broth.

A small green block caught his eye and he picked it up. “I recognize this -- it's a sweet bean paste, isn't it?”

“Yes.”

“We have something quite similar on Floran. It's a favorite treat.” He took a bite. “It's very good.”

“How are your cultures doing?”

“Not well.” He popped the last of the bean paste into his mouth. “Most are spoiled, and I'll have to start over.” The telephone began to ring. Nyk stood and picked up the handset. “Hello?”

“Nykkyo Kyhana!”

He rolled his eyes. “Hello, Seymor.”

“Nykkyo, have you ever heard the name Illya Kronta?”

“No... Should I have?”

“He's a member of the Agency oversight committee and he's my boss's boss's boss. I just finished a very uncomfortable vidphone conversation with him, regarding the antics of someone I thought was one of my finest Agents. If you care to immolate your career, it's your decision. But please give me the consideration of having some respect for mine!”

“I'm sorry, Seymor. What did Kronta say?”

“He said you smuggled an injured Earth woman onworld for unauthorized medical treatment. I don't like it when my Agents' activities come to the attention of upper management. It tends to be a bad sign. You must've lost your mind pulling that stunt.”

“I did what I thought was right.”

“What you did was a wanton and reckless violation of our regulations. I can't imagine a more blatant and willful example of deliberate temporal interference than to smuggle an Earth person onto the homeworld.”

Nyk shifted into his native tongue. “She was dying, and beyond help here. I know she's destined to give rise to Koichi -- she's on the critical path. The interference occurred earlier, and I was attempting to repair the damage. I've succeeded. Think about it, Seymor.”

There was a long pause. “Lad, I think you might be right,” Seymor continued in English. “You've put me into a terrible bind. I must discipline you, Nyk. Otherwise it'll be my balls on the anvil at the next oversight meeting. I want to keep you in the Agency. You're a good contributor, and we don't have anyone else in the pipeline.”

“Thank you, Seymor.”

“I have to send you home, Nyk. I don't know what else to do.”

“Will you let me finish my tour?”

“Out of the question. I'll let you finish your current project. When your present set of cultures are ready to ship, you must take them to the homeworld yourself. Close up the lab and the house. You may not return to Earth.”

“Ever?”

“Forever's a long time. I'll put you on suspended status. You'll receive field reports -- you can keep in touch that way. I won't deny you your communications, and I'd like to keep in touch with you.”

“It'll be two to three weeks before the cultures are ready. I'll arrange a trip to New York to turn in the laptop computer.”

“Leave the computer at the house. There's no need for you to visit New York.”

“I have some diamonds to deliver.”

“You can ship them to me ... Do what you want. I would like the opportunity to say goodbye in person. Agents on suspended status must participate in one field mission every two years to preserve that status. Maybe by the time that deadline rolls around, the dust will have settled and we can bring you back here.”

“Two years, Seymor?”

“It's the best I can do, lad. I'm sorry. I don't think it's fair because you did the right thing. But we must preserve the program, and no one on the oversight committee will understand.” He hung up the phone.

Suki was standing. “Well?”

“Two to three weeks, as soon as the cultures are ready. I'm being sent up.”

“No!” she cried.

“It's what must happen. You must walk your path, and I dare not interfere.”

“It's not fair,” she sobbed. “You're who I've been searching for, and now you're going away.”

He kissed the top of her head. “You belong to your world and I belong to mine. Remember, Suki -- I'll always love you, and there will be a way for us to be in touch.”

“Well, at least I have some time to get used to the idea. I suppose I'll have to move in with my parents.” She stroked a tear from his face. “Don't worry, Nykkyo -- I'll be all right. Seeing your world gave me something to live for.”

Nyk helped her close her suitcase. “The taxi will pick us up at six tomorrow.” He sat on the sofa in the living room with the computer on his lap. “Seymor told me to leave this here. I think I'll let you take it, instead. We can use it to communicate.”

She sat beside him and he demonstrated how to operate it. “If you connect it to a phone line, we can use it to speak with each other. If you connect it to a high-speed circuit, we can see each other, too.”

He typed some commands. “This is my locator code. Select this code and the call will connect to me, no matter where I am.” He began packing it into its case. “You can also send me an email message.” He wrote the address on a slip of paper. “I can even make phone calls from Floran, though you can't call me.”

“I'll take good care of it. I'm going to get ready for bed.”

Nyk sat on the sofa and buried his face in his hands. He felt her hand on his shoulder.

“Are you coming to bed?”

He looked up. She was in her short robe again. She sat on his lap and put her arms around him. He looked into her dark eyes. She took his hand and placed it on her knee.

He held her against him and stroked her hair. She kissed his cheek and his lips. She lifted her chin, held his face against her neck and he kissed it. She pulled open her robe to expose her breasts and guided his face between them.

“No, Suki! I want this just as much, but we mustn't!”

“Why not? I love you so much. This is our last night together. What's the harm?”

“We mustn't! I love you, too. I wish we could, but we can't. Please, Suki, the reasons are far bigger than either of us.” He pulled her robe closed and kissed her forehead. “Let's go to bed.”

Nyk held two of Suki's suitcases as they climbed the steps to the front door of a house in a residential section of Queens. Suki rang the doorbell. The door opened and a Japanese woman in late middle age motioned them in. She threw her arms around Suki and they both sobbed.

“Mom, this is my good friend and savior, Nick Kane,” Suki said, wiping her eyes. “Nick, this is my mother.”

“Pleased to meet you, Mrs Kyhana,” Nyk said, bowing to her.

Suki bore a strong resemblance to her mother, though her mother's coloring was lighter. She had a pattern of tiny, brown freckles under her eyes and her black hair was streaked with grey. She spoke English fluently, but with a noticeable Japanese accent. She opened her arms to Nyk and hugged him. “I'm so pleased to meet you, Mr Kane. Thank you so much for caring for my daughter, and for bringing her home.”

Nyk glanced at the wall and saw a golden disk with three odd characters hanging from a cord. He approached it.

“That's the thing that I told you about. It matches Mom's pin I was wearing. Silly, isn't it?”

“Not at all. It's beautiful.”

Suki took it from the hook and handed it to him. He carefully cradled it in his hand and traced the characters with his finger. “Ky-Ha-Na,” Suki said as he touched the katakana characters.

He examined it for the blemish from being bent and straightened. He couldn't find it.

He began to hand it to her. The disk slipped off its cord and fell to the floor. “Oh, I'm so sorry,” he said, and he picked up the pendant. It was bent and he straightened it. “I'm so clumsy!” He looked at it again. His blood ran cold as he recognized the flaw.

“That's all right,” Suki said. “It wasn't your fault. It's always slipping off the cord.” She replaced the pendant on the wall. “I'll be staying in the apartment upstairs.” Nyk carried her bags up the stairs.

“Well, I guess it's goodbye,” he said.

“Wait.” She scribbled on a piece of paper. “You said you could make phone calls. Call me when you get home.”

“I'll do that. Remember, Suki. I love you and I'll never stop loving you.” He hugged and kissed her. “There is a good chance we'll see each other again, someday.” Nyk descended the stairs, said goodbye to Suki's mother and stepped into the awaiting taxi. He gave the driver the address for Seymor's office in Tribeca.

Nyk climbed the steps to the FloranCo offices. “Hi, Jaquie,” he said.

“He's expecting you, Mr Kane.”

He walked into Seymor's inner office, opened his case and handed over the sack of diamonds.

“Have a seat, lad.” Seymor shook his head. “I've become fond of you, Nyk. I am terribly sorry, but my hands are tied.”

“I understand.”

Seymor stood and looked out the window behind his desk at the New York skyline. Nyk stood beside him. Seymor reached down and pressed his palm against Nyk's. Nyk spread his fingers and they held hands. “Take care of yourself, lad. You have a future in the Agency. We just have to get over this bump.”

Floran's golden morning light filled the liftcar as it shot upward in its transparent shaft. Nyk stepped from the lift on the 353rd floor, approached the apartment door and pressed his wrist to the scanpad. The privacy code was set.

He pressed the doorchime. He pressed it again. The door slid open and he looked into Senta's green eyes. She was wearing a light, sleeveless robe. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I've been sent up -- my punishment for bringing Suki here. May I come in, or am I disturbing you?”

Senta stepped aside and he walked in. Andra was sitting on a bench, her face buried in her hands. “This isn't a good time,” Senta whispered.

“I can go somewhere and come back,” he said.

“No, don't bother,” Andra said. She embraced Senta. “Don't worry. I'll be all right. Thank you so much. I'll call.” The two women kissed and Andra headed out the door.

Nyk shook his head.

“What's that expression for?” Senta asked him. “For Andra?”

“You know how I feel about ax'amfinen.”

“Nykkyo, I know you're a kind and decent man. I don't understand why you can't be more charitable toward Andra. I know you dislike the finishing schools. I don't like them either. It's not Andra's fault her parents sold her to the school. She's still a living, breathing human being with hopes and dreams and needs -- needs Zander isn't meeting.”

“Is Andra having difficulties? Is she in trouble?”

“She's not having the best

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