Half the Day Is Night by Maureen F. McHugh

matter is under investigation, that is not information I can give out.”
    â€œWhy is she after me?”
    â€œI’m sorry, Ms. Ling, but during an investigation we cannot talk about the particulars.”
    Had this woman singled her out because of the im in the newspaper? Or because they had seen her in the casino? But when they’d seen her in the casino, how did they find out who she was? David had told the blue and whites that the woman had said she was an instrument of God, that she was God’s surgeon. Wasn’t that what La Mano de Diós believed? That God told them what to do?
    That there was providence in the fall of a sparrow? That God selected them to be the instrument of the sparrow’s fall?
    â€œMs. Ling,” the blue and white said, “your dossier indicates you travel quite a bit on business. It might be a good idea to go somewhere for a few days, perhaps the U.S. or Marincite?”
    *   *   *
    â€œMayla,” Polly Navarro said. “I’m sorry to hear about your trouble, but glad Marincite could help.”
    â€œIt’s actually a wonderful opportunity to work with your people on the MaTE restructuring,” she said.
    Polly’s office was as formal as a royal court. The door was tall and wooden, like the doors of the Cathedral St. Nicolas. The whole right side of the office was virtual window. The scene was a city.
    A secretary brought them coffee. He was a young man in a vanilla suit with amethyst cufflinks and buttons. He had amethyst slips in his eyes, too. He was absolutely silent, like a good waiter. Her coffee tasted like surface coffee. She glanced at the window again, not meaning to, and saw Polly follow her eyes. “Hong Kong?” she asked.
    He nodded. “Hong Kong, 2038.”
    Okay. Although why he would want to look at Hong Kong in that particular year eluded her. “Quite a display,” she said.
    â€œThank you,” he said. “I like it.” He tapped a little brass control panel set in the desk. “Clear,” he said, “orchids.”
    The window dimmed and came bright, and this time the wall looked into a greenhouse of orchids.
    â€œClear, Hokkaido.” Twisted pine trees and mountains, mist and stone. At least they weren’t as bright.
    â€œClear, Serengeti.”
    Desert at dusk and below them a muddy drinking hole.
    â€œImpressive,” she said. Voice activated. The money spent on this office would probably buy her a house.
    â€œSet,” he said. “I like the space in this one.”
    Lots of it, the plain falling away in a long sweep, darkening to blue in the dusk. Tim would like it, she thought, but it wasn’t exactly her taste.
    â€œI wonder if you would be willing to talk to someone here regarding a loan for a city project,” Polly said.
    For a moment she was surprised. Not that she should have been, deals usually required favors. “Certainly,” she said. “Mr. Navarro, First Hawaiian would like very much to establish presence in Marincite in any way possible.”
    â€œI’ll have him call you. Watch a minute,” Polly said, “the lions will come down.”
    She looked at the window. And after a moment they came, bellies swaying and lean hips rocking, to crouch at Polly Navarro’s waterhole and drink with long pink tongues.
    *   *   *
    Polly Navarro’s “someone” came calling. Saad Shamsi was a gazelle-eyed Pakistani. “Just Saad,” he said, and added, smiling, “rhymes with ‘odd’.” He was an aide with the Marincite City Department of Education and Health (he gave her his card). Aide could mean anything. His job may even have been a real job, although aide could mean anything.
    He wanted a loan for a nursing school and clinic to be built in an area of town called, whimsically, Castle. “Are you familiar with Castle?” he asked, convincingly sincere. “It’s