Limit of Vision by Linda Nagata

brown hair was gathered in a loose ponytail, framing a face of uncertain age. The eyes behind her farsights were startlingly familiar.
    “Summer Goforth,” Virgil said, after a second’s hesitation.
    Panwar lunged out of his seat, leaning out the office door to get a look.
    Summer Goforth had invented the original L ov s, and then become their most vocal opponent. She looked on them now, and she did not smile. “Hello, Virgil. Randall.” She offered her hand; all very cordial. She took an extra few seconds to peer at Panwar’s L ov s.
    Virgil had met her only once before, less than a month after he’d joined EquaSys. He’d come up from the beach, salt dry on his skin and the sun setting behind parallel lines of docile swells. Summer had been leaning against his car. He thought he’d been cornered by a fanatic . . . but by the time she said good-bye, uneasy doubts had been stirring within him, and he’d found himself wondering just who the fanatic really was.
    “Why are you here?” he asked her. “You’re not with the police.”
    “You’re not in police custody anymore.” The lens of her farsights had taken on a gold-green hue. “The International Biotechnology Commission has taken over your case. They’re creating an ethics committee to advise on your actions, and to rule on the status of the L ov s. I live here. I’m acquainted with the L ov s. So I’m on it.”
    “The status of the L ov s is already defined,” Panwar said. “They’re an artificial life-form.”
    Summer’s farsights flushed a deeper green as she looked at him. Mood gloss? She said: “An artificial life-form legally confined to the Hammer, but you see they’ve escaped—which makes it an IBC case.”
    Virgil had not thought he could contain any more worries, but he’d been wrong. The International Biotechnology Commission had been dreamed up in the wake of the Van Nuys incident, receiving its authority as a law-enforcement agency within the United States less than six months ago—making it younger than the crime he and Panwar had committed. The IBC’s youth did not translate to weakness. Under the guidance of Director Daniel Simkin, the agency had already built a reputation for hard-nosed enforcement. A case like this would sear its existence into the consciousness of every licensed lab around the world.
    Panwar looked as if he’d taken a blow. He shook his head. “You’re twisting the truth. You know the L ov s didn’t escape.”
    “Are you sure? The L ov s were supposed to be confined to the Hammer, but they got out. You can call it kidnapped if you like, or stolen, or smuggled, the fact remains, they are here. And an artificial life-form that cannot be controlled will be sterilized. That is clearly stated in the interim guidelines.”
    “Is that the position you’ll be taking?” Virgil asked.
    “That’s the position I’ve taken ever since Van Nuys—because I’ve been down this road myself. I know what it feels like when you’re close to a project. So close you can’t see the stop signs. You keep telling yourself, ‘just a little farther, just a little more.’ Until reason and good judgment are left far behind.”
    The color had been fading from her farsights as she spoke, until now they became a translucent white veil. “The two of you don’t have to talk to me. You don’t have to cooperate in any way. You can wait for a lawyer to show up, and you can pretend you’ve got a chance in court. But the truth is, you don’t. You’re both facing life sentences, and you are not going to have a lot of friends speaking on your behalf. This committee will include top names in biotechnology from around the world, and every one of them will be concerned foremost about one thing: saving their own projects. Your actions have conjured a wildcat mad scientist image that is going to haunt them for years if they don’t quash it now. Your hubris has put the world at risk. That’s how they’ll play it.”
    “But that