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the test tubes in padded mail tubes that were already addressed to laboratories in Europe； Israel； and South Africa。 Nikos took the tray with the pieces of thedomo and the opened capsules into his refrigerated chamber。 He arranged the dismembered artifact on a glass shelf alongside the rest of his collection。 With that they were done。 Nikos closed the panels across the glass chamber。
The Egyptian felt tired； but energized。 〃When will you get the lab results？〃 he asked。
〃Within the week；〃 said Nikos。 〃I am a favored customer。〃
〃You must tell me what they say。〃
〃I feel good about this one；〃 said Nikos。 〃Perhaps it's just the pany this time。 But I sense this one was special。〃
They were in a celebratory mood。 〃Medea；〃 Nikos called out。 After a minute； his wife appeared at the doorway。 〃Bring wine。 Join us。〃
She and the Egyptian's wife returned with glasses and a bottle of French chardonnay。 Nikos pulled the cork； poured the glasses； kissed his beautiful wife。 He felt grand。
They raised their glasses in toast。
〃To the mysteries of life；〃 Nikos said simply。
He had never contemplated the term 〃extinction event。〃 As he drank his fine wine； it would have been inconceivable to him that he had just opened the door upon the end of mankind。
2
Genesis
MT。 DESERTISLAND； MAINE
APRIL
Save us； Father；Miranda prayed to the black winter sea。
Waves crashed against the cliffs。 Rime snaked around her L。L。 Bean boots； then slithered back into the depths。 The teenager shivered and went on searching for the light； in special need of it this morning。
A million miles away； a narrow gap opened on the edge of infinity。 Dawn was ing。 She was not superstitious； but Miranda took hope。 Perhaps they would not kill her monster。
Heartened； she turned from the cliffside and quickly crossed the overlook's parking lot and Crooked Road。 Except for her Schwinn ten…speed chained to a pole； the place was empty。 The summer tourists were long gone。 The ice age had arrived： spring in Maine。
Miranda started up a steep path between pines and scrub oak plastered by nor'easters。 Her pale breath leaked among the bare branches。 It was like something out of a fairytale。 She looked back and her footsteps in the frost were her only friend。
She moved swiftly； faster than a walk； not quite a run。 When she had first begun the daily visitations to the quarry； the trail took forty painful minutes。 Now； after three months of twice…a…days； she could knock it down in fourteen flat。 Her long legs had sprouted calves and thighs。 Maybe she was going to outgrow the stick body after all。 She was starting to get looks from some of the guys。 Mating looks。 As if she had spare time。
The sky bleached grey。 She reached the quarry and went directly to its edge。 Once upon a time men had cleaved the black granite from this hole for bank buildings； libraries； and national monuments。 Today； filled with a century of water； it had returned to nature。 〃Winston？〃 she called。 A pane of ice sheathed the pond's surface。 There was not a motion down there； not a sound except for her own forlorn voice echoing back up。
Local legend told of a broken…hearted town girl casting herself Mayan…like into the granite cenote。 Her ghost was said to haunt the waters。 True or not； the quarry was deserted。 High school lovers didn't visit。 There were no Saturday night keggers； no skinny…dipping。 For 153 days now； the place had belonged to her and little Winston。 Only at last evening's feeding had Miranda noticed the tire marks on the old fire road and fresh footprints in the frozen mud； a lot of them。
The shock had still not worn off。 They had found her out。You've killed him； she despaired to herself。
Since the age of four； Miranda had been disciplined to expect better of herself； no resting。 Her tutors had been carefully screened and highly specialized。 At her father's instruction； they inhabited her days； serving as mentors； never nannies； never friends。 No one ever told her to slow down； kick back； smell the roses。 It was known that she would peak young。 Miranda had read the literature； talked to shrinks； eavesdropped on the Mensa chat rooms。 Genius of her freakish degree burned bright and fast。 She fell into that same peculiar realm of the extraordinarily beautiful； striking awe into plete strangers。 The difference was that Miranda saw no beauty in her mirror； only the dark； bruised circles under her eyes from insomnia。
It felt like exile in this northern light； but she was far from all alone。 Jax； as the Jackson Laboratory was known； employed nearly a thousand people year round。 But island life got notoriously edgy once winter set in。 The suicide rate and wife abuse rose with the gas bills。 She felt caged among postdoc fellows who treated her like a little sister； jailbait； or a rade in their own weirdness。 Town kids her own age seemed alien。 She could explain string theory； but not freak…dance or snowboard or apply mascara。 It wasn't for lack of trying。 With ruthless precision； she had speed…readCosmo andTalk； gotten pierced and cornbraided； and memorized the cultural hot buttons。 But none of it took。 The pop lyrics made no sense to her； the clothes didn't fit。 Surfing for soul mates； she found only repetitious e…sex。 She knew how to open a human cell and tease out the secrets of life； but strangely not how to live it。
Now that they'd discovered Winston； there was going to be a storm of psychobabble about the line between brilliance and alienation。 As a girl； she'd gotten used to having no privacy except the inside of her mind； with even that up for grabs。 When she was nine； she'd discovered them monitoring her keyboard strokes on the puter。 At ten； she cracked the safe holding her med and psych records； and it was like reading the biography of an inmate。
Winston was her first real act of rebellion。 She'd thought she was being so careful。 But they had her now； and him。
Miranda lowered herself down a giant's staircase of cut ledges to the water's edge。 She took three bundles of raw fish wrapped in newspaper from her daypack。 He should have appeared by now。 It was 6：30。 He knew this ledge。 Together they'd bee creatures of habit。Where are you； baby？
For a moment； she feared they might have taken him away already。 Another thought occurred。 Maybe Winston's physiology had kicked in。 She was still unsure which of his physiologies ruled； but it was possible he'd begun hibernating。 If that was the case； short of draining the quarry； they wouldn't catch him before spring。
Miranda was no swimmer； much less a diver； but she'd visited his watery nest in her imagination。 It would be a hole with a cozy shelf and its own air pocket； and fish bones and his little hoard of things。 Ever since lugging Winston here in a five…gallon plastic bucket； she had noticed what an avid collector he was。 He gathered heaps of bright pebbles on different ledges by the pond's edge。 He herded together the red and yellow oak leaves that floated on the surface like a whaling fleet； then separated them by color。 She liked to think his nest was furnished with all kinds of salvage from the bottom sediment； Coke bottles and beer cans and rusted stonecutter's tools。 Maybe he'd found the skull of that poor girl and carried it to his nest as a sweetheart。
The sun nudged higher。 Pencil points of light pierced the forest screen。 The sheath of ice began to skin open； vaporizing into cold white steam。 〃Winston？〃 she pleaded to the water。
〃Don't tell me you've named the thing。〃
The voice came down to her from the forest。
Her heart gave a leap。 It had throw weight； that voice； and the majestic pacing of a Shakespearean actor。 In many ways Paul Abbot was an actor。 Besides playing kingmaker to scientists and sorcerer to politicians； he performed a bit role as her father。 Not one of his best performances。
She turned。 He was standing on the upper rim。 His Burberry was unbuttoned。 It hung like a cloak from his broad shoulders。 He looked leonine。 There was no telling how long he'd been waiting in the shadows。 He was not out of breath。 There was no mud on his tweed slacks。 That meant he had not taken the trail。 They must have unlocked the gate and driven him up the old fire road。
〃I didn't think you would e in time；〃 she said。 That was the truth。 There was never any telling where in the world her occassional phone calls would find him： D。C。； Tokyo； London； Atlanta。 But here he was。
〃In fact； my visit is overdue；〃 he sternly replied。 〃Please e up here。 Away from the water。〃
They had told him； Miranda realized。 There were no secrets in her world。 Mysteries； yes。 But her hiding places and concealments always failed。 〃How long have you known？〃 she asked。 Where had she erred？
〃Months；〃 he said。 〃We're still uncertain about your technique and timing。 But once you transferred this。。。Winston。。。to the fish tank in your room； the evidence mounted。〃
From conception through birth then； the secret had held。 Miranda began reviewing the months afterward； September and October and November。 She sorted through the hours and faces。 They couldn't have known much before October； she decided。 Otherwise they would have stopped her back then。 〃Why now？〃 she asked。
〃It would have been sooner。 B