Iharra would heal, the doctors assured her. That was good news, because the little girl was an innocent in the violence that had shattered the ordinary life she was trying to build for herself and Chaos. But what member of the One Race could have an 'ordinary' life?

Anna didn't need to be the Mathematician to figure out that Sean probably wouldn't join the Casablancas. TeleRhyde's request and offer of vengeance or... whatever had seen to that. So Medusa was a Harvester. Typical - the Freak Show never could let any non-aberrated or non-monstrous nova live in peace.

Chaos would remember the debt, but Shrapnel and the others would probably make it a political concern instead of a private one, repaying it in their own way and their own time. Anna knew more than people expected about the political situation within the Teragen, being one of the Network and a major supplier for the movement's catering needs. She shared what she knew with the Count and never stinted in the sharing, and while she knew that he kept certain things from her because of Pantheon concerns and her link to Chaos, she was also aware of the fact that he was equally generous in the information he did give her. Several financial concerns had been... cleared up with what he had shared. She suspected that the Count was expecting her to prove herself more before letting her in on the bigger situation.

But she knew more than TeleRhyde or Chaos suspected, and she knew that Shrapnel and Company were little more than a nova Ku Klux Klan with nodes - whatever they said.

It wasn't humanity's fault they weren't evolved to the point novas were. It just meant that novakind had a responsibility to them just like baselines had held towards lesser creatures. There was no reason to exterminate them like pests... As one of her Casablancas colleagues once observed, "I'm not going to be the one to sweep up the shit." Somebody had to do the grunt work, and it sure as hell wasn't going to be Anna.

Just because the squids like to live in disgusting surroundings doesn't mean the rest of us do.

Quanta left Maggie at the hospital and returned to her restaurant. Work didn't stop just because she was heart-sore. And yes, she was hurting. Chaos had found her attractive, the first man in many years to do so, and what heterosexual woman didn't find that appealing?

Like always, Anna expressed her true emotions in her cooking. She blended chocolate and lemon cake mix together, baked it, iced it with chocolate and decorated it with lemon peel while the monkeys ooh'ed and ah'ed around her. She mixed ginger and rue for the heated spiced wine that she often made for herself and other discerning guests, ignoring the chatter of the staff as they gawked instead of worked. Word had gotten around, obviously. She cooked battered fish and smothered in a ginger and lemon sauce, serving it with rice that had been steamed over water infused with lemon-grass and a selection of sliced tropical fruits. She baked more fish in thin, flaky pastry and served it with a sweet and sour dipping sauce.

She had lost him. She had probably never had him in the first place. Shrapnel never took 'betrayal' well. She thought he would never return to his life of violence again.

In many ways, her relationship with Raoul Orzaiz was more honest: they knew that it was a business arrangement with mutual benefits. With Sean, she had dared to wonder if she had a future... Maybe not with him, but one where she could be a Terat and still live in peace.

Apparently not.

The meal was exquisite, her nova guests complimented her. They had no idea what the bitter and sweet, warm and spicy, exotic and unexpected tastes meant, and she wasn't about to share it with them. But after the cooking, when the staff were cleaning up and going home, she still felt like she had made a confession.

Now she just had to tell Raoul Orzaiz she had failed in something she had promised she would do.