Chapter 1

I stood in the middle of the very posh office, looking

around by the light of the faint glow coming from the

eight-foot desk, trying to feel where the hidey-hole

was. With the building shut down for the night most

of the maintenance systems were on low-power

standby, leaving only the security checks fully active

and alert. If you stop to listen you can hear mainte-

nance systems, but security nets can only be detected

by instruments or nerve endings. I'd used both to get

through the net, and now stood in low-power silence

trying to detect where the safe spot had been put.

Even the heavy shadows couldn't hide the position

of the wall vault from me. and I had to turn my back

on the comer before it would stop jumping up and

down in my face, waving its arms trying to get my

attention. Sometimes the talent of finding things like

that makes itself more of a handicap than a help, get-

ting in your way when it's the really obscure location

you're trying to pinpoint. The wall vault would have

illegal documents and negotiable securities and a good

chunk of cash and possibly even jewelry and drugs that

were exchangeable for cash, but I had no use for fri-

volities and no time to waste picking them up. I was

after something a lot more delicate in nature and val-

uable in potential, a special prize that would not be

kept with everything else.

Turning away from the wall vault faced me toward

one of the rows of windows, me one that had been on

my left when I'd entered the office. The second row

had faced me when I'd come in and now decorated

most of the wall to the right. Corner offices had been

high status just about forever, but wouldn't have been

quite as popular if the occupants had to wash all those

windows they were so proud of. The thought made me

grin into me near dark I stood in, a little female humor

injected into an otherwise dull time, and then I began

laughing softly instead of grinning. What I had thought

of as a joke was my subconscious noticing something

the rest of me hadn't, and I was forced to admire the

skill that had almost gotten it past me. The safe spot

in that office was very well situated, but "almost"

doesn't make me mark.

I moved carefully around the desk and approached

the second window-section from the left, every sense

I had extended and alert. It seemed possible that some

part of the floor would be pressure sensitive, and I

found out rather quickly that ft certainly was. Once I

discovered that, it was back to the desk to check for

the controls that would not be part of the general sys-

tems, but once found the switches weren't difficult to

neutralize. They couldn't be turned off without acti-

vating a different set of alarms, of course, something

a large number of my contemporaries had learned the

hard way, but setting them to neutral didn't produce

the same results.

Neutral was off enough to suit my purposes, and let

me turn away from the desk to examine what I'd found.

The window-section that had caught my attention was

no window-section, and with the system deactivated I

was able to get a good look at the four-foot by four-

foot safe spot. The repeater screen that covered it most

of the time was excellently made. but that very excel-

lence had been its greatest flaw. The other windows in

the office were filthy with the usual city grime that

settles on everything no matter how often washing is

done, but that section of window was measurably

cleaner. The system designer hadn't been stupid

enough to leave it spotless, but had erred on the short

side when it came to "dirty enough." Most people

would never have noticed something like that, but

that's what makes me more valuable than most people.

There was a fairly complex maze lock on the safe

spot entry, but maze locks, as they say, are only good

for keeping out the honest. Opening it took no more

than a few minutes, and then I was able to slide the

entry down out of my way so that I might look at what

it normally hid. Only four of the dozen or so com-

partments were filled, two with off-planet bank notes

that might well have been counterfeit, a third with a

large, tightly-stoppered vial filled with something

bright yellow that glowed very faintly, and a fourtE

with a narrow envelope which was clearly from an

expensive set of stationery. I took the envelope and

folded it, stuffed it inside a pocket of my belt, then

put the safe spot entry back where it belonged.

Returning everything to normal took almost as long

as deactivating it had, but under those circumstances

it wasn't a waste of time. Once I'd rechecked the last

set of circuits I'd worked, I connected the final lead

that meshed everything back into place, then was able

to disconnect my diddle box, allowing the next intru-

sion signal generated to go to the security force board

instead of a dead-end panel in the box. I'd been taught

to cover the possibility that I wasn't as good as I

thought I was and would therefore set off some kind

of alarm during the prowl, and found it wise to never

forget the lesson. Seero had taught me that, just as

he'd taught me all the rest, but I'd learned on my own

that there were times when all the caution in the Em-

pire just wasn't enough to make a difference.

I left the building through a maintenance duct that

led to the parking level of the building next door,

stayed out of range of the scanners until I was back in

a normal, street-type bodysuit, then ambled to my

jump-around with all the nonconcem of any woman

who knows she's parked in a total visibility area. Not

only are there no blind spots in a t.v. area, anyone

stepping or driving into the section activates real-time

monitoring by the duty guards. If an emergency hap-

pens they can get there fast, and they usually make the

effort to move. There are cash bonuses and public rec-

ognition each month for the fastest response to any

activated emergency, and any team logging twelve

wins gets put on a roster of perpetual commendation.

Gryphon was a world that knew the benefits in paying

for what it wanted, and what it wanted was maximum

effort from the people whose job it was to protect oth-

ers. Substantial annual salaries attracted the best, bo-

nuses and public commendations kept them; with those

who couldn't afford to have the notoriety, stroking was

arranged on a somewhat more discreet level.

My jump-around unlocked itself at my approach, and

I unobtrusively checked the back before getting in and

starting it up. I didn't really expect to find anyone

hiding in the back seat, but when you know how to

get around t.v. areas and approach locks, you tend to

remember that others can do the same. No one should

have known where I was and what I was doing, but

that didn't mean no one did; the faster you learned

should-haves can turn quickly into dids, the better your

chances became of surviving.

I had casually thrown my shoulder bag to the front

seat beside me, but once I was out of the parking level

and skimming along a concourse, my main priority

became getting the contents of the bag property seen

to. I wasn't due to deliver the envelope I'd taken for

another two and a half hours; simply carrying it with

me would have been possible but not terribly bright. I

was scheduled to visit some old friends during me time

I had free, but not everyone around them would also

be friends. If you make a habit of wiggling your back-

side at the Pates, you can't really complain when they

arrange a suitable response to the gesture.

Not being the sort to make gestures for no reason,

by the time I reached the nightclub district I had my

prowling suit, tools, and belt all neatly tucked away

in the safe spot in my Jump-around. No hiding place

is really safe if its location can change as soon as you

turn your back on it, but many tiroes half measures are

better than none at all. Even if someone managed to

steal the Jump-around, they would only be close to the

rest, not have it.

And having the Jump-around stolen wasn't that far

out of the question, not in thai neighborhood. Once

off the concourse I drove more slowly, paying atten-

tion to the darkened, dirty streets and watching those

who roamed about on them. OH the outer fringes of

the district were most of the nightclubs the city

boasted, and the foot traffic moved easily under bright

lights with easy companionship and enjoyment. About

three blocks beyond that thedistrict changed, and al-

though there were still clubs they weren't the sort to

announce their whereabouts with lights and laughter.

Those who patronized this sub-district usually had

money and the urge for anonymity, a combination

which encouraged the presence of those who mot lOBcd

to take things whose absence would not bettported to

the proper authorities. If you're only gofflg to Heal

what's safe. I don't understand why you'd boAer, but

that's a personal prejudice. Others don't took at it the

same, which is really too bad.

The parking lot of the Dark of the Moon Club sat

beneath the delicate blue glow of its name sign, at

least three-quarters of it neatly and quietly fifled. I

pulled into a spot between a limo and a new-model

sports job, which was the best I could do in me way

of protective prevention. In company like that, my lit-

tle jump-around was hardly worth looking at, and that,

hopefully, meant it would still be there when I came

out.

Getting out of my transportation brought me the stale

but familiar smell of the air in that district, air that

seemed to be holding itself as still as possible to avoid

being noticed. It was an attitude that seemed to be

shared by a lot of the denizens of the area, and one

that had never failed to annoy me. I could understand

not wanting to be noticed at certain times, but to spend

your lire slipping from shadow to shadow, afraid to be

touched by the light of day, afraid to be seen by any-

one who might take note and remember—I had grown

up in that area and learned a lot of things there, but

that particular attitude wasn't one of them. I enjoyed

standing tall no matter who was watching, and if the

day ever came that I couldn't, I would know my lire

was coming to an end.

Walking through the dark to the modest front en-

trance of the club didn't take long, and I smiled when

I remembered the days there had been scanners which

checked out all new arrivals. What the club had of-

fered then was blatantly illegal rather than just mildly

so, and they*d had to be careful not to be surprised by

unexpected visits. When the club had changed hands

its policies had also changed, and it had become a

place where people could meet friends and sit and talk

in relative comfort, or indulge in certain vices mat

affected no one but themselves. Those of us who be-

came old time regulars after the change preferred it

that way, and with the amounts of money the club was

now making legally, it wasn't likely to change back

again. When I reached the front entrance I pushed in-

side to the outer foyer, and the maitre d' on duty

glanced up from his station, then suddenly grinned.

"Well, will you look at that." he drawled in greet-

ing, nothing left of his usual professional aloofness of

manner. "We must be starting that age of miracles the

preachers keep telling us is on me way. Inky has fi-

nally decided to come home."

"You may be a dear, Mal, but home isn't necessar-

ily where the heart is," I answered, not letting the

familiarity of the noisy dining room behind him reach

all the way through to me. "All I'm back for is a visit,

and to ask myself what I ever saw in this dump. I don't

expect to do it a second time."

"You'll change your mind," he said, the grin soft-

ening to a smile, which also softened his handsome

features. "Home is where your friends arc, where you

can be yourself with others like you. We all knew why

you left, doll. and we all understood. Now that you're

back again, everything will be the way it used to be."

"Not quite everything," I corrected, almost losing

it so far that I told him not to call me doll. That was

what Seero had most often called me, and Seero was

dead.

"No, not quite everything," he agreed, losing his

smile as he remembered. "But things do change, and

the rest of us are still here. Tris, Riccom and Sharp

said to send you back as soon as you showed up."

"I'm willing to bet they said if I show up," I coun-

tered. deliberately pushing away the air of gloom that

was trying to descend like a falling building. "I didn't

know if I'd be able to make it. so-I didn't commit to

anything definite. All I promised to do was try."

"Which is why they said when. not if," he coun-

tered back, the grin beginning to return. "We know

the people we can trust from those we can*t. I'd be

there with them myself if I didn't have to work. so I'll

have to catch you next time. They're waiting in the

quiet comer."

As expected. I nodded my thanks to Mal and headed

into the room his station guarded, paying no attention

to the people at the curtain tables which crowded al-

most every inch of floor. About a fifth of the tables

had nothing of a distortion field around them, double

that number had shadow curtains to tease passersby,

and all the rest were completely hidden by fields that

let no one see who was at them, what those people

were watching, or what the watchers were doing. How

you set your table depended on what you had come to

the club to see and do, and very few of the table pa-

trons were there for wholesome entertainment. The

club had a full spectrum licence, though, which meant

even opera and ballet were available, and some of the

tables were automatically set to those frequencies. Do-

ing it that way meant no one could prove what anyone

had chosen to view unless they were right there beside

a particular individual, an anonymity which meant

quite a lot to some of the regulars.

I was almost across the floor to the booths when Tris

spotted me, and then Riccom and Sharp were turning

around, adding their grins to Tris'. Most of the booths

in me quiet comer were taken, which was usually the

way it went. Our kind of people preferred keeping their

conversations private even if they were only discuss-

ing the weather, a topic that wasn't often at the head

of the list.

"Inky!" Sharp exclaimed as soon as I was inside

the silencing field and could hear her. the delight in

her voice all too obvious. "I knew you would make

it, and I told these doubters so. Have you any idea

how long it's been?"

"For me, it's been almost a year." I answered, sit-

ting down in the place Tris had moved from to make

for me. "How long has it been for you, Sharp?"

"You're not amusing," she stated while Tris and

Riccom chuckled, her pale, delicate face flushing faintly

with embarrassment. "I wasn't referring to the amount

of calendar time, and you know it. What I was trying

to say was that we missed you."

"And I missed you three," I admitted without hes-

itation, telling them nothing but the truth. "If all

you're after now is rekindling old friendships, I'm all

for it. If there happens to be an irresistible business

deal you're dying to include me in on, I think I'm late

for another appointment."

"Why do you have to be such a stinker?" Sharp

demanded in annoyance while the chuckling around us

changed to outright laughter. "Most people in the trade

would give up their vices for the chance to work with

us. Did you hear us asking you to give up even a small

vice?"

"I don't think she has any vices to give up," Tris

remarked, his green eyes studying me where I sat. Tris

was good looking in a smooth-featured way, and his

physical grace had been the cause of some problems

for him. When it came to enjoying himself he pre-

ferred doing it with females, but some people had dif-

ficulty accepting that. When Tris was propositioned

politely by the wrong gender, his refusal was just as

polite; if the suggestion then turned to insistence, Tris

reached for a knife.

"She certainly doesn't look like she has any vices,"

Ricco agreed with Tris, his blue eyes even more

amused than the other man's green ones. "Have you

ever seen such an innocent, open face, hair that black

in such a plain, unassuming style, black eyes so large

and guileless that you could trip and fall right into

them? I'll bet most places she still has to prove she's

old enough to drink."

I offered Riccom a wordless gesture that made all

three of them laugh, but it wasn't anything they hadn't

been expecting. They'd never let me forget the time

Ricco and I had gone together to make an assessment

of the possibility of approaching a target Seero had

been interested in. The point of entry to the target

would have been through the posh bar next door, and

Ricco and I had dressed to the eyebrows so they'd let

us in. We'd made our entrance in a grand way. letting

our attitudes say we didn't own the place only because

we didn't go in for petty-cash investments, and the

maitre d' guarding the entrance was very impressed.

He inspected Ricco from light brown hair to broad

shoulders to zilf-hide shoes, smiled faintly in total ap-

proval, men began to apologize. It took a minute for

us to understand that the man was apologizing for the

regrettable fact that they couldn't serve children in

their establishment, and then Ricco had broken up.

He'd laughed so hard we'd had to leave before we

were thrown out, and I hadn't had to ask what was so

funny. Since I was five months older than Ricco I knew

what he found so funny, but I'd never been quite up

to sharing the joke.

"I love talking about old times, don't you?" Sharp

asked me with a wide grin still in place, one hand

brushing at her reddish brown hair. She was a small

woman but very rounded for her size. and looked even

smaller sitting beside Ricco. "We used to have such

fun together. Inky, but the fun doesn't have to stay in

the past. If you come back to us, we can have the same

all over again.'*

"We might have fan, but it would never be what

we once had," I disagreed, deciding it was time we

got the matter settled out loud. "You three worked

with Seero for a couple of years, but I was raised by

him. If he hadn't kept his word to my mother to look

after me, I would have ended up in one of those or-

phan shelters after she died. He forced me to go to

school, bribed me into learning something there by

refusing to teach me anything he knew unless I got

good grades, and always had the time to listen if there

was something I needed to talk about. He was always

there for me. Sharp, but when he needed me, all I

could do was stand by and watch him die."

"You were there?'* she asked, sharing her distur-

bance with the glances she sent Tris and Ricco, getting

the same back from them. "We thought Seero was out

alone that night. But Inky—his getting killed was an

accident, something no one could have prevented. His

line slipped, and even if you'd been right next to it

you couldn't have . . ."

"His line didn't slip," I corrected flatly, watching

her pale as her eyes flinched away from my gaze. I

knew what I looked like when I thought or spoke about

that night, and innocent was about as far from it as

it's possible to get. I was about to go on when a buzz

sounded, letting us know someone was entering our

field, and then a harried waiter was beside the booth,

putting a cup ofjavi on the table in front of me. If I'd

wanted something to eat I would have used the booth

menu to order it directly from the kitchen, but javi,

unless refused when you first come in, is brought au-

tomatically to everyone. Our part of the crowd of reg-

ulars had developed that custom for the club, and it

had slowly spread until everyone was doing the same.

We all waited until the waiter was gone out of the field

again, and then Ricco leaned forward.

"What do you mean, Seero's line didn't slip?" he

demanded, his big hands on the table's edge, his ex-

pression harsh with confusion. "It was all over the

news. the next day, and the thuds read a statement about

it. 'Death by misadventure during an attempted fel-

ony' was the way it was put, and that was after they'd

investigated. Are you trying to say it was a cover-

up?"

"I'm trying to say they weren't there," I answered,

reaching for my cup ofjavi. Black was the way I drank

it, as black as my hair, and preferably as strong as my

resolve for revenge. "Ricco, you and Sharp and Tris

have a decision to make. I can tell you the whole story,

or we can simply drink javi and reminisce about old

times. If you decide on the story, I can't guarantee the

safety of any of you."

That time even Sharp didn't have anything imme-

diate to say, and their three expressions were almost

identical. In the life-niche we and others like us oc-

cupied, there was a great deal of truth to the proverb,

"Ignorance is bliss." Too often just knowing about

something put you in line for erasure, and it made no

difference whether or not you intended using, selling

or even giving away the information. Knowing it meant

you might pass it on, and that was more of a chance

than the people involved were willing to take. It wasn't

considered polite to tell people things without first

warning them you were going to do it, so I'd given

the warning. What happened after that was entirely up

to them, and Tris was the first one to acknowledge it.

"I think I'd like to stay and hear about this," he

said after a minute, stirring where he sat to my left.

"Seero once did something for me I*H never forget,

and if there's a question on how he died. I want to

know about it. I can meet you two later, somewhere

else."

"The hell you can," Ricco said in a flat-voiced way,

leaning back in his seat opposite me as he looked at

Tris. "You aren't the only one Seero did things for,

which means I'm not in the mood for a walk. But it

also doesn't mean we all have to stay."

He and Tris turned to Sharp with that, telling her

they had no intentions of making any decisions for her,

and for an instant she didn't seem to know what Ricco

meant. Then she understood they were saying she

could leave, and she was suddenly made of indigna-

tion rather than flesh.

"Ricco, is your head as muscle-bound as your

body?" she demanded, bristling up like an inside-out

pincushion. "If you two think you owed Seero, you

ought to hear my story. I happen to know he didn't

even tell Inky, which means I owe him for that, too.

If anyone misses what she has to say, it isn't going to

be me."

"That's it, then," Ricco said with a shrug, moving

his eyes back to my vicinity. "We're all in and we*re

all ears. Let's get a pot of javi ordered, and then we

can start."

"Let's start by not ordering a pot ofjavi," I said,

reaching over to catch his arm before he activated the

menu. "Seero once told me that most people know

they're opening a circuit through the silencing field

when they order, but think the circuit is dead once the

menu-acknowledge light goes out. All it really means

is that the light is out, not that the circuit is closed.

Let's let that waiter bring us refills when he manages

to get around to it."

"You think the thuds could have this place tapped?"

Tris asked with a frown, exchanging glances with

Ricco. "Even if they were covering something up

when they called Seero's death accidental, how could

they get in here? And after all this time, why would

they bother?"

"It isn't the police we have to worry about," I an-

swered. speaking to all of them. "It's the Twilight

Houses that arc involved, and they can get in any-

where. Arc you still sure you want to hear about it?"

"More than ever," Sharp said as she rested her

forearms on the table, nothing left of the empty-headed

high-lifer she enjoyed pretending to be. "If the thuds

put Seero out of the way, I could understand it even

while hating it. The Twi Houses are another matter

entirely."

Ricco nodded his agreement while Tris simply sat

and waited, so I shrugged and shifted sideways on the

seat.

"As we've already noticed, this was almost a year

ago," I began, toying with my cup as my mind went

back to that soul-tearing night. "Seero had intended

going out alone, but when I showed up with nothing

of my own scheduled, he invited me along. The stroke

was set up as a solo and that's the way he intended

keeping it, but he didn't mind the idea of having com-

pany on the ride back. He also intended having some-

thing to show off, and you know how he enjoyed

showing off."

They all smiled faintly at the reminder, also remem-

bering how we used to tease him about it, but no one

interrupted.

' 'The location of the stroke was in one of those open

high-rise enclaves that pretend to be closed, the kind

that keeps out no one but the innocent people who live

there," I continued. "For anyone with a little skill

there are a dozen private ways in, and Seero took one

of them. He intended using the top of the north tower

to reach one of the penthouses in the south, so as soon

as he left I found a way into the west tower. I wanted

to watch him without being in the way, you under-

stand, which I might have been if I'd gone up with

him to the north.

"By the time I reached the roof of the west tower,

he'd already set his line onto the balcony wall of his

target apartment," I said, raising my cup to sip from

it. "A minute later he was moving up the line by shift-

ing his coasters an armspan at a time, making it look

as easy as he always did. Going back it would be

downhill, of course, and he'd simply hold on and let

gravity do all the work. He reached the balcony,

dropped down to it after locking the coasters in place

on the line, then went to half-kneel in front of the

balcony doors. He already knew what sort of a lock

was on them, and even Mal could have gotten it open

without a key."

That time they chuckled, knowing how badly Mal

did with anything that had a lock- If anyone was ever

born to be honest Mal was it, a point finally brought

home to him the time he'd lost his key ring. After

finding it impossible to get into his jump-around he'd

had to walk home, and then had discovered that we,

who were his neighbors and who kept a spare set of

his keys. were out. He'd decided then and there that

he'd be damned if he'd simply sit down and wait until

we got back, so he began trying to pick the lock on

his door.

By the time Tris and I got back there he'd apparently

been at it for hours, and had reached the point where

he wouldn't have used a key even if he'd had to spend

the rest of his life out in that hall. It was do or die

with no other acceptable options, and Tris and I were

trying to decide whether or not to mention something

rather important to him when Ricco showed up. Ricco,

having no idea about what was going on immediately

congratulated Mal, and when Mal looked up at him

blankly, Ricco reached over and opened the door with

a simple turn of the knob. At some point or other Mal

had managed to pick the lock, but the tragedy of it

was Mal hadn't noticed. It took quite a while before

we were able to get Mal to stop crying, but once he

was back to normal his mind had been made up. He

still considered himself one of us, but he never tried

breaking into anything again.

"I watched Seero fade through the balcony doors,

and automatically checked the time," I went on with

a sigh, wondering if Mal knew how really fortunate

he was. "Seero's maximum time on a stroke never

went beyond nine minutes, no matter what he had to

leave behind. Better to get out and come back some

other time, he always said, rather than stay that extra

minute or two and maybe lose all your some-other-

times together. At any rate I knew it wouldn't be long

before he was out again, but it turned out to be a lot

less than not very long. It couldn't even have been a

minute before he reappeared, and he immediately tried

jumping for the coasters."

"Without stopping to relock the balcony doors?"

Sharp asked with shock in her voice. "I can't believe

Seero would overlook anything that important."

"He didn't overlook it," I said, answering the ques-

tion for all of them. "He didn't stop because they were

right behind him, too close, as it turned out, for him

to get the coasters moving before they were on top of

him. They had hand weapons out and ready, so all he

could do was drop back down to the terrace."

"But he wasn't supposed to have been killed with a

hand weapon," Ricco pointed out, his expression

strange. "Did the thuds cover up that part of it?"

"They didn't use the weapons, they just covered

him with them." I said with a headshake. "At first it

was only the two heavies who stopped him, and I was

sure they were private security, which would have

meant Seero was caught. Then three men and a woman

stepped out on the balcony, four races I recognized

instantly in the light coming from inside, and I began

to think everything would be all right. I knew for a

fact that Seero had done strokes for at least two of

them, and they would therefore understand he could

be counted on to keep quiet about whatever he'd seen

or heard. One of the men spoke to Seero with an

amused smile on his face, turned and said something

to the others, then gestured away the two heavies with

the hand weapons. From where I stood, it looked like

Seero had been told he was free to go."

When I paused to swallow at my javi, none of them

Jumped in with prompts or questions or comments.

They knew what was coming, and although they had

already decided to listen, they were in no hurry to hear

it.

"I watched Seero go back to his line with what

seemed to be reluctance, and couldn't understand why

he wasn't acting as relieved as I felt." I continued

beyond the pause. "After thinking about it I've de-

cided he knew what was coming, which is another

thing those four will regret. Seero jumped for the

coasters, had them unlocked in a moment, then slid

away from the balcony. He was about halfway across

when one of the heavies reached up to the line anchor

with something too small for me to see, but which

must have been made of plastic. It broke the holding

field that kept the anchor firmly attached to the wall,

and suddenly Seero wasn't sliding down the line, he

and the line were falling toward the inner face of the

north tower. He tried absolving most of the shock of

contact with his legs, but the angle of descent was too

Btecp and he was moving too fast. He slammed into

the building between two terraces, the impact so hard

I could hear it, and then he was gone from the line

and falling toward the ground so many stories below.

When I looked back to the terrace, the four and their

heavies had already disappeared."

By then I was staring down into my javi cup, wish-

ing it held something a lot stronger than javi, feeling

the new silence that surrounded me. All the expecta-

tion from eariier had disappeared, leaving behind a

limping, wordless plea for some sort of explanation.

"I don't understand," Tris said after the gap had

grown almost awkward, his voice filled with confu-

sion. "If they knew Seero and didn't even have a com-

pleted stroke to complain about, why did they wipe

him? And how did he end up in a Twi House meeting

place to begin with? He was always so careful about

checking a layout before going in."

"They must have been discussing something they

considered more important than Seero's life.'* I an-

swered, looking up to see the way all three of them

stared at me. "They could have decided to depend on

his silence the way they had in the past, but chose

instead not to bother. As for how Seero ended up in

the middle of a meeting between the heads of four

Houses who never in the past got together on any-

thing, that one is easy. He was set up.

"Is that a guess, or do you know it for certain?*'

Sharp asked, her voice very soft in contrast to the look

in her eyes. "If it's confirmed, give us a name."

"I didn't have to guess." I said. running a finger

around the rim of my cup without looking down. "On

the way to the stroke Seero told me who had put him

onto the target, and the idea made him chuckle. The

man who considered himself Seero's greatest rival had

worked for months digging out the location of this

shady political bigshot's city address, had confirmed

what artwork and other valuables the apartment held

by visiting it as a repairman or some such, and had

only been waiting for the bigshot to be out of town.

As soon as that happened he started getting ready to

go—and while he was moving around managed to slip

and fall because of a small pool of salad oil that had

been spilled by his roommate on their kitchen floor.

He ended up with a very painful sprained ankle, which

meant he needed someone he could trust to take over

for him. He'd hated the idea of calling Seero, but Seero

was the only one he knew who could be relied on to

play it straight."

"And the reason he didn't simply wait until he was

healed, and then go ahead without a reluctantly-taken

partner?" Tris asked, filling in the line as he and the

others knew it must have gone. They weren't wrong,

and my nod acknowledged that fact.

"The bigshot had sold the apartment, and would be

moving his things to an in-city estate as soon as he got

back," I supplied. "If the stroke didn't come off right

then, all those months of work would be worse than

wasted. Better half the rake than losing it all."

"And Seero believed him," Sharp stated, her dark

eyes furious. "Just as we all would have. because of

the one bit of truth he used: Seero was the only one

among us who could be counted on to play it straight.

There was no way anyone would have thought it was

a trap."

"The slig must have found out about the Twi meet-

ing while he was sniffing around," Tris said, coming

to the same conclusion I had. "There's never been

even a whisper about a connection between that polit-

ico and the Houses, so the slig must have counted on

their wiping Seero to keep that quiet, if for nothing

else. They must be into him below his underwear if

they used his apartment for their high-level hush-hush.

Seero never had a chance, not with the kind of heavies

they use to keep those meetings private. Give us the

name of that slig. Inky. We want to pay him a visit

and tell him how much we admire his planning abil-

ity."

"I don't think we can pay him a visit," Ricco said.

the first words he'd spoken in a while, his light eyes

directly on me, "It was Tardin who did that to Seero,

wasn't it, Inky? Tardin the slime, who could never

forgive Seero for being better than him. Am I wrong?"

"No, you aren't wrong, Ricco," I allowed, feeling

myself smile for the first time since that conversation

had started. "Tardin was the one who set Seero up,

but I don't think he'll ever be doing something like

that again, do you?"

"Tardin was convicted of those murders!" Sharp

said with a hiss of shock, her stare now on the wide-

eyed side. "It made all the news progs, and more than

half the editorial slots! Everyone wanted the courts to

forget the law and sentence him to a lifetime of torture

instead of simple execution. The evidence against him

was so overwhelming, not even his court-appointed

lawyer believed him when he screamed he was inno-

cent."

"That was because of how sickening the crime

was," Tris said, giving me the same sort of thoughtful

look Ricco had been maintaining for the last couple of

minutes. "When the victims are children it's bad

enough, but when they're also physically handicapped

children who have managed to win outstanding awards

despite their handicap— And when they aren't simply

killed, but put through what the autopsies showed— It

was all they could do to find thuds to guard him. Most

of them wanted to join everyone else and tear him apart."

"And all those of us who knew him wondered was

how he'd kept that much twisting from showing

sooner," Ricco said, closing the circle he'd opened.

"I don't think it would bother any of us to find out he

was framed. Inky, but what about the one who really

is guilty? With Tardin tagged for the thing, they

stopped looking for anyone else."

"Why look for a dead man?" I asked, letting my

smile broaden. "One of the earlier victims had a rel-

ative none of the news progs found out about, a half-

brother who had loved the little girl very much. The

half-brother had a lot of friends and acquaintances,

I don't think I have to tell you what it's possible

to pick up when almost everyone on the street is

watching and listening for you. Seero had introduced

me to him a few years ago, so when it was time to

take a good look around a certain apartment, I was the

one he asked to do it. Finding those grisly trophies the

slime had kept wasn't hard, but once they'd served

the purpose of telling us we'd located the right sicko.

no one had any more use for them. My acquaintance

took charge of the sicko, and when I explained why I

wanted the trophies, he thought my taking them was a

good idea. It even turned out that one of his friends

was the woman who cleaned Tardin's apartment, the

very woman who accidentally found all that horror and

immediately called the police."

"Finding Tardin's name on the membership list of

that group of fanatics who want all handicapped new-

borns put to sleep really sealed the lid on it," Ricco

said, a grin finally breaking through on his face. "Was

he really a member, or did your acquaintance have

another friend?"

"That time it was a friend of mine," I answered,

watching Tris and Sharp stir where they sat, as though

waking from a daydream. "She owed Seero a lot more

than one, and computer files will whistle the latest hit

if she asks them to. Getting them to accept Tardin's

name as a long-time member of that group took about

ten minutes."

"No wonder you kept refusing to work with us,"

Sharp said, satisfied acceptance in her voice. "You

were too busy doing things that really needed doing.

But now that it's just about over, you shouldn't be

busy any longer. Tardin's appeal was denied last week.

which means his execution is set for the forty day min-

imum. Why don't we all celebrate by pulling off a

really spectacular stroke?"

"That would be a good idea except for one thing,"

I said, quickly interrupting the agreement coming from

Tris and Ricco. "I won't be ready to celebrate until

there isn't even a foundation left of four certain

Houses. Tardin may have been the one who set Seero

up for wiping, but he wasn't the one who actually did

the job. Until that happens, I expect to have quite a

lot to do that's best done alone."

"You don't mean you're taking on four of the Twi-

light Houses!" Tris said in almost the same hiss Sharp

had used earlier, his expression full of outrage. "Inky.

that's crazy! I can understand refusing to take com-

missions from them, or maybe even cheering on the

thuds, but actively working against them? They'll wipe

you the same way they did Seero, and you won't ever

be able to say you didn't ask for it! If Seero was still

around, he'd be the first to tell you to forget it."

"If Seero was still around, there'd be nothing to

forget," I pointed out, raising my cup to finish the last

of the javi. "I only told you three about this so you'd

know why it isn't smart associating with me. I haven't

been sitting around with my feet up for the past few

months, and although I've been careful not to be

sloppy, it's only a matter of time before they find out

who's been stroking them. When that happens, you

don't want to confuse them by standing next to their

target. They usually settle confusions like that by

taking out everyone in sight."

"They seem to have a thing about playing it on the

safe side," Sharp agreed with familiar dryness, but

there was more frustration behind the words than

amusement. "Damn it. Inky, all you'll do is get your-

self killed, and no one will be able to help you! Do

you expect us to just sit back and let it happen?"

"The only way you can stop me is by tipping the

Houses," I said, taking a deep breath before making

the effort to shake off the gloom that had grabbed me

again. "If you decide to do that, hold out for as much

as you think the information should be worth, but stay

out of reach both before and after you collect. They're

already feeling the pinch, and I'm told they're not in

a very good mood."

"Told by who?" Ricco asked, as annoyed as Sharp

and Tris by the suggestion I'd made. "I can believe

you've been stroking them. and I believe they don't

know who's doing it. Seero always said you were the

best he ever taught, and if you ask me you're even

better than that. You're also not suicidal, so I'm

willing to bet you're not doing this alone. Who do you

have who's telling you about their mood, and what are

they doing with the rake from your strokes?"

"I don't think you really need to know that," I said

as I looked around at the three with a friendly smile.

Sharp and Tris were startled by the guess Ricco had

made, but he always had been the swiftest on the up-

take. "Let's just say I've found the perfect place to

drop what I come across, and it's possible I may even

be around to some day celebrate cracked foundations.

I'm not counting on the possibility very heavily, but

it could happen. And now I really do have another

appointment."

"Was this your way of saying good-bye to us?"

Tris demanded as I began getting ready to leave the

booth, his tone almost harsh. "You don't want us get-

ting killed along with you, so you took some time out

to cut the ties? That was really thoughtful of you. Inky,

but what if one or two of us don't want to say good-

bye? What if we're willing to take our own chances

with getting killed?"

"I'm sorry, Tris, but this is my way of getting

killed," I said with a glance around, trying not to

laugh. "If you or Ricco or Sharp decide you're inter-

ested, you'll have to find your own way. You know

how I've always hated sharing things."

I put my left hand on his arm to keep him from

saying any more, then reached my right hand toward

Sharp and Ricco. Both of them took it. Sharp with

tears in her eyes, Ricco almost as broken up as Tris,

but I refused to let any of their sadness touch me.

"I'll say this as plainly as I can, so I won't ever

have to repeat it: stay out of the argument!" I told

them, looking at each of them in turn, starting with

Tris and ending with Ricco. "I've got me covered

to a certain extent, but the coverage isn't enough for

four. I'd hate to make it through all this, only to find

that one or more of you three didn't. And don't forget,

if one of you trips, you might take me down right

along with you. If for no other reason, will you let

that make you back off and forget all about it?"

Once again I let my eyes touch each of them, and

despite their reluctance they didn't refuse me the nods

of agreement I'd asked for. They'd given me their

words to stay out of it, but Tris felt it necessary to add

one last comment as I freed my hands and stood.

"If you ever change your mind about wanting com-

pany, you know where you can find us," he said, then

gave me a smile that was trying very hard to become

a grin. "Don't forget how bad I am at thinking of my

own ways to get killed."

There was nothing to do but laugh at that, and then

wave once before turning and walking away. Tris was

most probably feeling the short time we'd lived to-

gether, but he'd get over it and then he'd be fine. I'd

made sure they would all be fine, but that was some-

thing else they didn't need to know about. When the

Houses finally found out I was the one stroking them,

not knowing where I was would be no protection at all

for people who were named as friends of mine. What

I'd arranged would be protection, but they definitely

would not have enjoyed hearing about it.

On the way out I said good-bye to Mal without giv-

ing him the chance to press me as to when I'd be back,

then left to keep an appointment which centered about

the delivery of an envelope.

Chapter 2

My new associates had very little imagination, which

meant they insisted on my meeting them in their own

offices. It might have been true that none of their

people could have betrayed them even if they'd wanted

to, but that didn't make me any happier about becoming

a familiar figure to the workers on all four of their

shifts. I was used to having no one or almost no one

know what I was into; Stellar Intelligence didn't

believe in running it the same. As far as they're

concerned, if everyone around you doesn't know what

you're doing, you probably shouldn't be doing it.

Needless to say, the difference of opinion made our

association even more pleasant than it would normally

have been.

I left my jump-around parked in a street-level square

a couple of blocks from my destination, preferring to

lose it among the various vehicles of neighborhood

night-shift workers over setting it down all alone in

plain sight in front of the building where the offices

were. It wasn't exactly common knowledge that the

Empire offices building also housed Stellar Intelligence,

but among those who did know, very few cared.

S.I. was a branch of the Empire administration that

supposedly concerned itself with nothing less than

things like treason on a planetary scale, and that, of

course, made it nothing to worry about to anyone who

wasn't plotting the overthrow of the Empire. I'd found

out differently one night, and the revelation had

modified my plans in an interesting way—if you consider

that sort of thing interesting.

The Empire building was as brightly lit and as full

of people going in and out as it always was, which

means I accessed their underground parking area

through a service conduit that bypassed their security

system, then made my way to the upper floors from

there. My getting into the building like that was more

of a game than a necessity, especially since S.I. hadn't

yet gotten around to finding the route. The other end

of the conduit was supposed to be completely

inaccessible, and they still believed that; for people who

shouldn't have believed anything they hadn't checked

personally, it was sad to see how trusting they were.

It was also one of the reasons I wasn't precisely thrilled

to be working with them, but they were definitely the

lesser choice between evils.

The lift took me up to the fifty-fourth floor, and

when the doors opened I stepped out to see the trans-

parent wall on my left that told me I'd found the

offices of the Empire Messenger Corps. Beyond the wall

was a rather unplush reception area which contained a

brittle-pretty girl behind a desk polishing her nails,

and a bored-looking man in the blinding-red uniform

of the Messenger Corps leaning against the wall not

far from her. When the lift doors closed behind me the

girl stopped polishing and the man stopped looking

bored, but neither one tried to say anything until I'd

pushed through the entrance panel in the transparent

wall. At that point, the girl grinned wide.

"Raksall's expecting you, so you can go right in."

she said, sounding nothing like what her looks would

lead someone to expect. "And by the way, thanks for

earning me a little extra cash. Again."

She made no real effort to look at the man in the red

uniform, but she didn't have to. Her final word had

let him know he was being laughed at, and his

expression said he wasn't enjoying the experience.

"It's not a joke," he said in a near growl, his dark

eyes sending accusation in my direction rather than

toward his partner in disguise. "If she's getting into

the building in a way we don't know about, there can

be others doing the same thing. Betting on whether

or not she makes it through without getting caught

isn't as good an idea as trying to find out how she does

it."

"Our current assignment doesn't call for finding

things out," the woman said, her grin still in place as

she swiveled her chair to turn her in the man's

direction. "And if you think betting is such a bad idea,

why wasn't I the only one doing it?"

The man looked down at her without answering the

question, but also without visible enjoyment of the

ankle-length, veed-to-the-waist work dress the woman

was wearing. She had no trouble at all filling out the

standard red and white dress, but men seem to lose

interest in such things when their pride—or wallets

have been brutalized.

"Is Raksall in her office?" I asked, more to change

the subject than because I wasn't sure. "I'm still a

little early."

"She expected you to be late instead, but she came

in on time," the woman told me, and then her

expression went solemn. "It may be the next thing to

immorality to mention it. but I think she earned some

extra cash, too."

The man came away from the wall with his fists to

his hips at that, and even though I was no longer the

target for his killing stare, I still headed on back to the

offices beyond the corridor leading out of the reception

area. S.I. people seemed to be much freer souls than

I'd expected them to be, but I wasn't involved with

them to make friends. We had a joint business venture

going, they and I, and in that area things weren't doing

badly.

There were as many people hurrying around the

inner S.I. office as the rest of the building suffered from,

all because of the need of the place to be fully staffed

at all times. When you have to deal with information

and requests coming in from hundreds of planets and

going out to the same number, you run every minute

of the local day and night or you don't run at all. I

usually preferred night hours because of how much

more peaceful they were than the daytime, but in that

place it was like middle of the morning any time you

got there. I ignored the bustle as best I could, made

my way across the floor to the office I wanted, and

simply walked in.

Raksall looked up at the sound of the door opening,

her transparent desk showing all of the stylish orange

and brown business suit she wore. The legs of the

pants were so full they even looked like a full-length

skirt while she was sitting down, and the tight-waisted

jacket was more frilly-lace-concealing than straight-

line form-revealing. Using lace instead of body lines

was the very newest rage in fashion, and it surprised

me not at all that Raksall was already wearing it.

"Well, well, early instead of late," my S.I. contact

said with an amused look, leaning back in her chair

while I closed the door behind me. "With everything

you had on your schedule tonight, I thought it would

be the other way around."

"I have a feeling you thought it would be the other

way around because of the number of guards stationed

all over the building," I came back, walking forward

to my usual chair and then sitting in it. "They were

trying to spot me coming in, but somehow they missed."

"I've learned there's nothing of the 'somehow

about it when people miss seeing you," she said, her

stronger amusement now showing in a grin. "If we

hadn't had Fieran's luck, we wouldn't have stumbled

over you the first time. I hope it went just as

successfully earlier tonight."

"They're not quite as clever as they think they are,"

I said with a smile of my own, reaching down to the

wide black shimmer-belt I wore above my semi-skirt.

"If you don't have a pair of gloves, I recommend

leaving the thing in the belt until you can get a lab to

check it for you. They had it in a safe spot, but I have

the distinct feeling they decided to play it double safe.

If unprotected skin touches that envelope, I'd rather

not be around to see what the results are."

"That means they're beginning to try doing some-

thing about you," she said, her grin gone as she

reached across the desk to take the belt. "What you've

gotten from them over the last few months hasn't been

used against them yet, so they must think that ridding

themselves of you will make sure it never is. I'd say

it's time you let up on them for a while."

"And I say if I let up on them, what I've done so

far will be wasted effort," I countered, watching how

carefully she handled the belt. "You're the one who

told me how straight-line all this evidence has to be,

how an Empire court will accept it if there aren't any

carefully timed gaps in the gathering of it. You said if

we can prove these Houses are constantly and

consistently involved in large-scale illegalities rather than

occasionally dabbling over the line of the law, the

Empire court will accept jurisdiction as the only

certifiably unbiased source of justice for the people. We both

know their bought bodies on this world won't even let

them be accused here let alone convicted, and the

chance of throwing them to an Empire court was the

only reason I agreed to work with you people. If you

try backing out now . . ."

"I'm not trying to back out of the deal," she interrupted

in annoyance, the look in her brown eyes half

impatient and half concerned. "I promised we'd break

those Houses for you if you helped us get the evidence

we need, and that promise stands. I'd just like to know

how well you'll uphold your end of the bargain if you

get yourself killed. None of our own people ever man-

aged a fraction of what you have in locating the sort

of damaging proof we can't go ahead without. If the

enemy succeeds in stopping you, where does that leave

our effort?"

"Before the question becomes relevant, they have

to succeed in stopping me," I answered, working hard

to control the furious anger that had suddenly risen

inside me. "You told me stolen evidence is just as

good in an Empire court as whatever is gotten on a

warrant, as long as it's documented as true and isn't

unreasonably out of date. If I back off now, you know

we'll have a gap, and that gap could get them off. If

this is how dedicated you law-and-order types are, I

would have been better off going with my original

idea."

"Your original idea was to use the other Twilight

Houses to destroy the four you're after," she said with

a brusque gesture of dismissal, still annoyed. "You

may or may not have succeeded in that, but when you

came to this building to see if the Empire had any file

information you could take for the other Houses to

use, you walked into one of our security areas. We

had to use a Question Beam to find out what you were

after, but once we did, didn't we agree to drop all

charges against you? Didn't we decide together it

would be better to eradicate those Houses completely,

rather than simply helping the other Houses to absorb

them?"

"Is that what we 'decided together'?" I asked,

making a rude face as I leaned back in my chair. "I

thought what we decided was that I'd be better off

getting evidence for your group, instead of vegetating

in a heavy detention center while those four Houses

went blithely on the way they had been going. If I'd

known you scared this easy, I would have opted for

the heavy detention."

"Since I'm not the one whose life is on the line,

scared doesn't enter into it much, does it?" she

countered, ignoring what I'd said about how I'd been

coerced into the partnership. "And I'm not trying to tell

you to back off for good. I want these people as badly

as you do. but throwing away the life of the only one

able to get me my evidence doesn't make much sense.

What you picked up for us four days ago from the

Larcher House was a coded list of scheduled ventures

involving drugs, prostitution, soul-selling, air smuggling,

puppet-stringing—at least a third of everything

they're into. Since we've got to take the time to document

that stellium-mine of a list, there won't be anything

of a gap showing in our evidence trail. And don't

forget what you got for us tonight. If that works out

the way I expect it to, what's in that envelope will

give the Empire court no choice but to step in. When

politicians that big are owned by a House, trying to

find an unbiased planetary court is an exercise in futility."

"All of which is a reason for you people to sit back

a while, but doesn't in any way apply to me," I said,

refusing to buy the wiggler oil she was so good at

selling. "That list you're so hot about involves only

one of the Houses, which leaves three more for me to

go after while you're playing with the first. In case

you've forgotten, it's all four I want, not just a token

one or two."

"But you can't get all four if one of them gets you

first," she said through her teeth, her fist clenched and

her short blond hair almost bristling. "If you leave

them alone for a while they'll have to dismantle their

traps, or take the chance of losing one of their own.

with legitimate business, to something meant to get

you. Can't you under—"

Her little speech of useless repetition probably would

have gone on until she ran out of breath, but she was

interrupted by something other than my impatience. A

single knock came at the door, and I turned in time to

see a man walking in. He was of average height and

build, wearing the tight trousers, tight-waisted jacket,

and severely cut shirt that was the masculine equivalent

of Raksall's outfit, but his was a conservative yellow

and tan. He had brown hair and eyes and a narrow,

humorless face, was carrying a file of some sort, and

I'd seen him once or twice during my previous visits

to those offices.

"I'm sorry, Filster. but we're in the middle of an

important discussion here," Raksall said to the man,

making an obvious effort not to be too short with him.

"I'll let you know as soon as I'm through, and . . ."

"This can't wait until you're through," the man

Filster said, coming forward after having closed the

door behind himself. "When you're through, the girl

will disappear the way she always does, and I need

her here for this."

"For what?" Raksall demanded, letting the river of

annoyance inside her wash over the man who was

pulling up a chair to her side of the desk. "She isn't an

operative who shifts from one department to the next

and therefore needs to know everything going on

everywhere. She has a limited association with my

department, so what could you possibly have that

concerns her?"

"I have a Situation," the man answered, the word

so clearly capitalized that his glance at Raksall was

unnecessary. "I queried the main files in search of

someone to suit my needs, but rather than offering me

a choice of our own operatives, I was given the suggestion

of that girl. After considering the matter, I was

forced to agree with the decision."

His narrow-faced sourness showed how unhappy he

was over being forced into whatever it was he was

talking about, but I wasn't in the least curious as to

what that could be. I'd already done what I'd come to

that place to do, and wasting any more time there

would have been—a waste of time.

"I think I'll be going now," I said to Raksall as I

got out of my chair. "From what you said I'm assuming

you and your people will be too busy for a while

to come up with any target assignments, so I'll take

care of finding my own. If I happen across anything

interesting, I'll be sure to let you know."

"Just a moment, young woman!" the man Filster

said in a very stern way as I turned toward the door,

interrupting whatever Raksall had been about to come

up with. "You and I have a matter to discuss, which

means you're to sit back down and listen to me. I

didn't come in here just to watch you walk away."

"I don't much give a damn what you came in here

to do," I told the disapproving frown I was getting,

liking the man as much as he obviously liked me.

"You and I don't have anything to discuss on any

subject I can think of, and I really would prefer

keeping it that way. Have a nice evening."

"How about your four friends?" he countered at

once as I began turning away from him again, his tone

unpleasantly triumphant. "My department is the one

responsible for assigning operatives to make sure the

Twilight Houses don't try to use them in an effort to

locate you. I've had no trouble finding enough people

to assign up until now, but with a Situation demanding

all the attention and manpower I can give it . . ."

He let the sentence trail off without finishing it, and

when I looked at him his smug expression was all but

pure enjoyment. They really did enjoy threatening

without using the words, those people, and I was be-

ginning to dislike the habit more than I'd thought was

possible.

"Part of my agreement with your group covers the

protection of the four people my efforts put in the most

danger," I said, speaking primarily to a Raksall who

was mostly mad but partly upset. "If that aspect of

the deal falls through, so does the rest of it. You may

need me to get the Twi Houses, but I can do my own

getting with people who don't have your problems.

Would you like to tell me which way you want it?"

"We want it our way," Filster said with narrow-

faced aggressiveness before Raksall could answer me,

a gleam of satisfaction still inexplicably in his eyes.

"If you don't do your getting with us, you won't do

it at all, especially not from the cell of a heavy detention

center. You are a thief, young miss, and we have

enough evidence against you in your dossier to keep

you in a cell until long past the time the designation

'young' is no longer appropriate. What will happen

to your friends during that time, I have no idea.

If you aren't identified as the one who robbed the

Houses, they may well survive without any sort of

difficulty."

Or they may not, his tone suggested, the man ignoring

the way I straightened where I stood. He

seemed to know as well as I that if the Houses found

out I was the one who had been stroking them, also

learning where I was would not keep my closest friends

safe. There was still what I'd taken to sustain interest

in my background, and until they had that back no one

I'd known would be safe.

"Inky, a department with a Situation has priority

over all other departments until the Situation is being

handled," Raksall got out with difficulty, her intention

probably to smooth things over despite her own raging

anger. "If you discuss the matter with Filster and can

prove to him you can't be of any help, he'll just have

to look elsewhere. Let's listen to what he has to say,

and afterward you and I can talk for a minute or two."

And get things back to where they were, she didn't

bother adding, at least not aloud. At that point I had

lost my appetite for dealing with any of them, and if

it hadn't been for Tris, Sharp, Ricco and Mal, I would

have walked out of there and let them try to catch me.

But I did have my friends to consider, so I went back

to the chair and sat.

"Your wisdom is exceeded only by your graciousness,

young miss," Filster said when I crossed my

legs, his tone as dry as abrasive powder. "Despite

your obvious opinions to the contrary, I'm not enjoying

this any more than you are. With that glowering

expression you're now wearing, you look more than

ever like the innocent child you most certainly are not."

"If all you came in here to do was insult her, Filster,

you can just get out again," Raksall said with a

hard look in her eyes, her voice thick with the anger

she was feeling. "And however this turns out, don't

think for a minute that I won't be reporting you. Even

having a Situation is no excuse for ruining another

department's dealings with essential associates."

"For all the control you have over her, even 'associate'

is too binding a descriptive word," the man

came back with complete unconcern, paying more

attention to his papers than to his co-worker. "You can

report me as much as you like, as long as you're ready

to tell the same board why so essential an 'associate'

of yours does as she damned well pleases. And would

either of you mind if we got on with this now?"

He finally raised his dark eyes to look at each of us

in turn, but not even Raksall had anything else to say.

She made herself more comfortable in her chair with

her fingers laced together in front of her, and the look

in her eyes that promised the man more argument to

come at a later, better time didn't bother him in the least.

"About five standard years ago, the planet Joelare

announced the opening of its new vacation continent,

and within a year it was on the 'must' list of three-

quarters of the people in the Empire," Filster said,

keeping his eyes on me even as he lectured. "The

planet has an anomaly area that covers just about

an entire continent, an area of perpetual fog, and the

section was considered a waste of good world-space

until someone came up with the idea of turning it into

a tourist attraction. They had a hell of a time doing

the necessary building and developing, but when it was

finally completed they had the Mists of the Ages."

He paused then, as though expecting Raksall or me

to comment, and when we didn't he smiled faintly.

"What are the Mists of the Ages, you ask?" he said

in the lightest tone he'd used yet. "I thought everyone

already knew about them, but since you don't. I'll

explain. Towns, villages, and even cities were built in

the fog, each area depicting a different historical

period from the past of dozens of the worlds of the

Empire. No one really knows yet why so many human

and humanoid-populated worlds arose independently

to eventually reach the stars, but that doesn't mean people

aren't interested in what other people lived through

before they reached contact capabilities. Joelare hasn't

been settled long enough to have picturesque historical

eras of its own, so it used everyone else's. With tours

ranging from basic to aristocratic, everyone chooses

what he or she can afford, and everyone has a fabulous time.

"Or so claim the press releases," Filster went on,

impatient disapproval suddenly back in his voice.

"Approximately six standard months ago, odd reports

began being filed. People who were supposed to have

been on the tours were reported missing by friends or

relatives, but a couple of days later the reports were

canceled. The missing people weren't really missing,

they'd only been enjoying themselves so much they'd

extended their tours beyond their original intentions.

Some of the reports, however, weren't canceled; the

missing people really were missing, and eventually

turned up dead. They'd wandered off on their own

into areas which were restricted because of dangerous

conditions and had had accidents that turned out

fatal. What was left of each body was returned to its

home world, and then those reports were officially

closed."

"I'm not seeing what you consider so odd," Raksall

said to the man, interest rather than criticism narrowing

her eyes. "People do enjoy themselves so much

they extend their vacations, and people do die when

they wander into places they shouldn't be. All natural-

habitat resorts have restricted areas; that's why you

sign a release when you vacation in spots like that. If

you're properly warned and the restricted areas are

clearly marked, your getting killed doesn't entitle your

estate to sue."

"Everything you say is absolutely correct, but you

haven't seen the reports," Filster answered with a

shake of his head. "The computers considered them

all together, did a little records checking, then kicked

the matter out with gongs clanging and blazing red

Situation flags flying. Thirty of the canceled missing

persons reports stated that the people involved couldn't

possibly have simply stayed past their intended time;

they had previous, very important commitments, and

weren't the sort to forget those commitments. When it

turned out they had only stayed a little longer, the ones

who had filed the reports were bewildered. The objects

of their concern had laughed off the entire matter, and

none of the thirty showed even the faintest regret for

what they'd done. That was the point the computers

checked the cash and credit accounts of those thirty

and the other 'missing' vacationers for the additional

payments they should have had to make to Joelare

for their extended stays, and then the alarms went off."

"The payments hadn't been made?" Raksall

guessed, her brows higher than they had been. "That

would make even an adding machine suspicious."

"Which is probably why most of the additional payments

had been made," Filster said, grudging respect

only very faintly coloring his continuing disapproval.

"Where there were no funds or available credit to meet

the payments, suits had been filed against the defaulting

parties. All nice and proper and legal, except for

two things: the suits were in perpetual continuance

despite the fact that not even token payments had been

made, and most of those who had paid hadn't really

been in a position to take those extra days. They'd

strapped themselves badly by doing it, and were right

then working their backsides off trying to make up the

losses."

"I'd hate to be the computer who had to specify a

Situation like that," Raksall said, one finger to her lips

as her mind raced behind distracted eyes. "Is there

something in the Mists on Joelare that causes reliable

people to become uncaring spendthrifts, and if so, do

the friendly natives running the show know about it?

If they don't know about it, why aren't they pressing

for payment from everyone? If they do know about it,

are they taking advantage of an existing situation, or

causing the situation to begin with? If the reaction is

a natural phenomenon, why aren't more people suffering

from it? And as a temporary last, how, if in any

way at all, do the dead bodies fit in?"

"That's the summation as to why we have a Situation,"

Faster said to her, his attitude indicating anyone in

Raksall's position would have been expected to do the

same. "There are people being hurt and taken advantage

of somehow, but we don't yet know who is innocent

and who isn't. It's also been pointed out that

the number of people actually reported as missing is

guaranteed to be a lot less than the grand total in that

category. Some planetary authorities operate under the

absurd conviction that people who never deviate from

schedule even once in their lives, can't be considered

missing until a prechosen amount of time has passed.

Places like that would have nothing in the way of

reports filed."

"So the questions asked need immediate answers,

and then we'll know what we're dealing with," Raksall

said with a slow nod. "If it turns out the people

of Joelare decided to help hurry the return on their

investment by convincing certain people to stay longer

and therefore spend more money, our branch of the

Service won't be involved any longer. What we need

to do is get those answers."

"Which is the reason I'm in your office now instead

of my own," Filster said, back to looking at me rather

than Raksall. "We need someone to go in there who

will not only not arouse any suspicion, but who also

has the ability to check records and files that are out

of easy reach. Mists of the Ages is run from a central

location situated itself in the mist, which means the

very finding of it won't be a matter of checking the

address and then walking in. Our computer tells us

your—associate—over there has a definite talent for

finding things, so she's the one I want."

By that time Raksall was sharing in the stare directed

at me, and I didn't need to hear her saying anything

to remember the "we" she'd used with Filster.

After hearing his problem, she was no longer blaming

him for barging in on us and was also no longer inviting

him to look elsewhere for help. I'd somehow had

the feeling things would work out like that, but they

and the computer who had suggested me all had

equally randomized circuits.

"Anyone with a little intelligence can be expected

to find things," I said after a decent pause, making it

seem as though I'd considered his request. "What isn't

quite as reasonable is hauling someone off the streets

and expecting them to be able to do the sort of job you

people are trained for. Not only wouldn't I know where

to begin, I wouldn't even know when to look unsuspicious.

They'd have me spotted five minutes after I

got there, and that would be the end of my playing

snoop. My talent is in extracting things from places

people have them hidden, not inserting myself in

places people don't want me to be."

"Your talent is in stealing," Filster contradicted

with no change of expression, his dark eyes still directly

on me. "You specialize in preying on those who

have managed to acquire possessions of worth, and

haven't enough social conscience to feel shame over

such a thing no matter how badly your victims are hurt

by it. I despise parasites like you and your sort, who

live well themselves by causing misery for others. If

I had any choice in the matter I'd see you all in heavy

detention, but instead of that I'm forced to work with

you. I need information stolen from a place others can't

get near, and for that you are exactly right. If you

refuse to do it. the trash you call friends will be entirely

on their own, just as they really deserve to be.

Make your decision now, and make it fast."

If I'd been in the habit of showing enemies how I

felt, I probably would have shivered from the pure

hate and disgust coming at me. The man's eyes were

all but glowing with it, and I couldn't ever remember

feeling so sick. People won't understand, Seero had

always told me, sometimes not even if you explain.

Don't waste your time, little Inky, just let them go on

believing as they like. It won't change what we're doing,

it will just make it a little harder. Filster made it

harder, all right, but not just a little.

"Actually if you think about it, you'll find this is all

probably for the best," Raksall said, the pitying

embarrassment so thick in her voice that I hated her.

"you need to take some time off from our own project

anyway, so why don't you see what you can do with

Filster's? We know you're not a professional, but that

might be just the thing to get you past any safeguards

they may have erected. We'll give you what information

and help we can, and your friends—you have my

word that they'll be perfectly all right. You can look

at it as a paid vacation, and by the time you get back

we can probably get on with our work again. —What

do you say?"

In actual fact I didn't say anything, primarily because

I couldn't. I also couldn't quite meet Filster's

eyes or look Raksall directly in the face, not the way

Seero would have been able to. He had always been

so serenely sure that what he did was right, so gently

willing to forgive anyone and everyone the awful

things they might say about him. I didn't have the

same inner strength, but at least I was able to refuse

the urge to make excuses for myself. Making excuses

only means you think you're doing wrong, Seero always

used to say, and if you think what you're doing

is wrong, you shouldn't be doing it. The only wrong

I saw was in what I was about to do, but I couldn't

betray four people whose safety was my responsibility.

I nodded my head stiffly, agreeing to the demand

they'd made on me, then stood up and got out of there

as fast as I could.

The lobby of the Empire building had dozens of

public call squares, every one of them undoubtedly

monitored. I chose one at random and made the call I

had to, setting in motion a sequence of events all the

monitoring in the Empire couldn't have followed. Then

I walked out one of the lobby doors, and went to the

place I was then calling home.

Chapter 3

The S.I. didn't believe in wasting time. I'd intended

dangling my feet for a while, at least until the

completion of the events I'd started the night before with

a view call, but Filster began taking immediate advantage.

I don't know if he realized I'd let myself be

followed back to the place where I was sleeping those

days, but the very next morning one of his people was

pounding on my door. The racket woke me to see it

wasn't even noon yet, which gave me second thoughts

about how wise I'd been in using myself as a diversion.

I pulled on a bodysuit without bothering to add

shorts or a skirt, yanked the door open, and glared at

the large blond-haired, blue-eyed man standing right outside.

"Don't you people have any sense at all?" I demanded

in a hiss, working to keep my voice down.

"Are you trying to let everyone in the Empire know

we have a deal going?"

"How did you know I was sent by a mutual friend?"

the man asked mildly, his squarish face openly

surprised. "Since you're staying in this over-night for

working girls, you—and everyone else—were

supposed to think I was an early customer looking for

some fun."

"Don't you think they know I'm not wiggling for

the trade?" I asked in turn with a lot of the weariness

I was feeling, wondering again how people of their

supposed caliber could be so innocent. "The ones who

run this place make it their business to know what's

going on; if they slip, they could be out of business."

"Then we'll just have to say I'm your boyfriend."

he decided with a grin, totally unbothered by anything

I'd told him. "Just because you don't get paid for it,

doesn't mean you have to pretend you never do it.

Aren't you going to invite me in?"

I gave it up with a shake of my head and simply

stepped back out of the way, and he walked in while

looking around in curiosity. He was the sort of really

big man I usually find attractive when I'm not three-

quarters asleep, and he was dressed like a long-haul

jockey whose usual run takes him through the wilds:

leather jacket, leather boots, hugging zilf-skin pants

and bright svalk singlet. Wilds jockies nuke large

amounts of money and aren't shy about spending it,

which some people think is what puts the swagger in

their walk. What really does it is a knowledge of just

how good they are, undoubtedly the same thing that

did it for my visitor.

"You know, this isn't bad," he decided by the time

I got the door closed, his all-around inspection of the

predominantly pink room finally turning his back in

my direction. "The carpeting and walls are clean, the

mirrors are shiny and clear, the bed is big enough for

three, and the leather is out of sight while it isn't being

used. What more can you ask from a temporary layover?"

"Watch your language," I said with a yawn, heading

for the counter with the javi spout and cups. "Females

not doing the trade aren't usually allowed to

stay in places like this, but I have friends who owe me

favors. Its greatest benefit is that I'm not the only one

coming and going at all hours of the day and night."

"Now you watch your language," he said with a

small laugh, following me over to the counter. "If

you're in the mood to pour two cups of that, we can

sit down with them while I tell you what I came to tell

you. After that you can get dressed and start getting

on with it."

"What's the hurry?" I asked, turning to hand him

the first cup of javi I'd filled. "According to our mutual

friend, the game-playing has been going on for at

least six months. Since whoever they tick will eventually

be paid back, what difference can another couple of days make?"

"They'll get paid back if we can prove the Joelare

natives are game-playing," he corrected, his blue eyes

serious as he took the javi. "If we can't prove it, all

we'll be able to do is make the Mists people check

cash and credit before anyone is allowed on future

tours. Those who can't afford extra time on the planet

will then either be separated from their tours at the

proper time, or Mists won't be permitted to bill them.

That will still leave their previous victims in the hole,

and that might not even be the worst of it. We still

have those dead bodies to think about."

With my own cup filled with javi I was able to try

frowning at him, but he was already heading for the

comfortably stuffed chair only a few feet away. He sat

down, began settling himself, then moved his head

quickly from side to side, a sure sign that he'd just

noticed he was in the only chair in the room. When

he was certain of that, he looked up at me.

"It seems these rooms weren't furnished with

conversation in mind," he observed, his grin faint but

definitely there. "We'll either have to move to the bed

where there's room for both of us, or you'll have to

sit in my lap."

"That's the benefit in having carpeted floors," I

countered, folding into a cross-legged position

opposite his chair. "They give you all the extra options

you need. Now, what's all this about dead bodies?"

"Some of those who were reported missing on Joelare

turned up dead instead of late," he said with a

supposedly disappointed sigh, forcing himself to get

back to business. "Any place like the Mists of the

Ages is bound to have areas of high danger, and

tourists are notorious for going past flashing lights and

screaming sirens without ever seeing or hearing them.

Going on vacation seems to turn normal people into

instant idiots, so just having bodies isn't what bothers

us. The disturbing part centers around the fact that

there isn't much left of most of the bodies they send

back to the home worlds, only enough to make a positive

I.D. A certain percentage of those bodies are going

to be true accidental deaths, but what about the rest?"

"You mean you think they might have been deliberately

killed?" I asked, putting both hands around my

cup to fight off the sudden chill I was feeling. "Possibly

because they found out what was going on?"

"Possibly, but somehow it doesn't feel right." he

grumbled, raising his cup to sip from it while distraction

showed in his eyes. "It isn't unheard of for people

to kill to protect the secret of what they're doing, but

this Mists whiz isn't all that big and profitable, and it

isn't being run by professionals. In most instances

amateurs try to buy silence rather than resort to killing,

and most people offered bribes will accept them. It's

a piece that doesn't fit in the puzzle we're trying to

work, and even though it's colored the same it ought

fit in another puzzle entirely. You'll just have to keep

your eyes open when you get there."

"Assuming I don't end up in that second puzzle,

and have my eyes closed for me in some permanent

way," I said, looking up at him with very little

enthusiasm. "I keep telling you types I wasn't trained

for this, but none of you want to hear me."

"We hear you," he disagreed with a shadow of

amusement behind his expression. "We're just having

trouble believing what we're hearing. You claim to be

afraid to get involved in this, afraid of getting killed.

For someone who refuses to let up the pressure on four

Twilight Houses, any of which would be more than

happy to arrange a messy, permanent send-off for her,

you're unexpectedly worried about checking into the

doings of a whiz run by nervous, almost-innocent

amateurs. You consider us unreasonable for feeling the

least bit skeptical?"

"If nothing else, the way you dismiss amateurs

makes me nervous," I came back, disliking his entire

attitude. "I'd hate to tell you how many competent

pros are killed or almost killed because of them. And

this thing between me and the Twilight Houses is

entirely different. With them it's a personal matter, and

I really don't care if they end up getting me, as long

as I get them at the same time."

"With us, everything is a personal matter," he said,

the amusement gone as he leaned forward just a little.

"We hate seeing people being taken advantage of in

any way at all, and we've sworn to stop it every time

we can. But letting them get us when we get them

doesn't make much sense, not if we want to go on

getting them. That's why we're as cautious as it's possible

to be, and glad to be giving you a vacation from

your personal vendetta. We don't like the idea of losing

you, and this should keep it from happening. While

you're gone we'll be looking after your friends, so you

don't have to spend even a minute worrying about

them. All you need to do is use that talent of yours,

and get us the evidence we need against whoever is

doing things to innocent, unsuspecting people."

"My talent for stealing," I said as I looked away

from him, remembering the way Filster had said it.

After thinking about it I'd decided Filster was actually

the most honest of all of them, saying aloud what the

others had probably only been feeling. None of them

understood or even particularly wanted to, which was

the reason I'd made the call that began setting up

escape routes for Mal, Sharp, Tris, and Ricco. When

everything was set the four would be slid into the routes,

and then they would be gone from the planet with no

possible way of tracing them. I'd set up the routine as

an emergency exit before the first time I'd stroked any

of the Houses, before I'd gotten involved with the S.I.

I'd thought the S.I. could be counted on to keep those

closest to me safe, but S.I. worried most about

victims, not about those who created victims. It would

take a few days, but then my friends would be really

safe, and after that I could do as I pleased.

"Your talent for stealing," my visitor mused in a

calm, even voice as I sipped my javi, making no

comment on the fact that I still wasn't looking at him.

"That's the way Filster put it, along with everything

else he said. The man is really good at the job he does,

but he has no true understanding of people. To him,

if you aren't prey you have to be a predator, and he

can't forget what predators did to his family. He

doesn't see himself as a predator, only as prey fighting

back, so he's incapable of understanding any other

mode of existence. You'll find it easier forgiving him

for what he said if you tell yourself the rest of us don't

see it the same."

"I don't tell myself much of anything," I said,

finally bringing my eyes back to him. "Talking to your-

self is a bad habit to get into, especially in my line of

work. Was there anything else, or arc you ready to

leave so I can go back to bed?"

"Sorry, but you don't have time to go back to bed."

he informed me, the grin accompanying the words the

least little bit forced. "I still have to tell you about the

special ring I have for you, and about the people who

will be showing up to help you. After that you have

to get your things together in time to catch a shuttle.

Your liner to Joelare will be ready to load passengers

about three hours from now."

"You people really don't waste any time," I

muttered, not terribly pleased with the way things were

going. If I could have put them off for the couple of

days necessary until my friends were gone from the

planet, I would then have been free to refuse to go at

all. The four should no longer be where they had been,

not since a very short time after I'd made the call, but

they were still on Gryphon and would be for another

day or two. If S.I. really tried, they could keep them

from leaving, which meant I would have to work S.I.'s

job before I'd be free to melt into shadow.

"We try not to waste any time, but it doesn't always

work," the man in the chair above me said, still trying

for a grin. "If it did, you and I would be exchanging

more than information, and from a lot closer than three

feet. I usually don't have quite this much trouble

making friendly suggestions, but Filster has a knack for

ruining things for everybody. What say we put off the

briefing for an hour or so, and use the intervening time

to—re-cement good relations?"

He watched me as he sipped his javi, nothing

showing in the way of anxiety over the question he'd put.

As attractive as he was he had no real reason to be

anxious, but I prefer getting to know someone before

getting into bed with them. Many people consider that

narrow-minded of me but, as my choice of occupation

showed, I didn't much care what other people thought.

And I also didn't feel the need to be any closer to the

people of S.I. than I already was.

"I don't have that sort of relationship with S.I., so

there's nothing to re-cement," I told him, wondering

in passing if the idea had been his own, or if he'd been

instructed to make the suggestion. "We have a very

limited association, your group and me, and that's the

way I'd like to keep it. If I have a shuttle to catch,

you'd better tell me whatever it is you're supposed to

tell me."

"I think I'll have a long talk with Filster when I get

back to the offices," he said sourly, letting his eyes

move over me in a very deliberate way. "And if I

can't get you to change your mind once you're back

from Joelare, I'll have a second talk with him. Not all

of our people are full-time agents, you know, and after

this thing with the Houses is done, you'll probably be

made a different kind of offer. Not that I don't prefer

my own sort."

His grin came all the way out with that, showing he

was still in there selling. As hard as he was trying, he

probably was under orders to get me into bed, which

was an even better example than Filster's of what his

people thought of me. I knew well enough how

innocent I looked, but leave it to S.I. to equate innocent

with gullible, I stirred impatiently where I sat, too dis-

gusted to let myself say anything, and he finally got

the message.

"All right, all right, strictly business," he conceded,

briefly holding up his free hand. "We have

almost no information on the Mists of the Ages and

certainly no details on the headquarters building you'll

be looking for, but one thing we were able to accomplish.

We had the Division of Records send the Mists

board a supposedly new form to be used when sending

Information Request responses, but the form was

really a flat-circuit transponder. We expected it to be

filed with the rest of their records, which should have

been what was done. Unless we're a lot more unlucky

than usual, their main offices are somewhere to the

east of the major entry point to the Mists, so we've

booked you on the tour that goes that way. Once you're

down and moving in the proper direction, you'll use

this ring to guide you nearer."

He reached into his leather jacket and pulled out a

flat, dull silver band that looked well-worn and tarnished,

then handed me the thing. The circular ring

was about a quarter of an inch wide and very plain

except for three small pieces of plastic that were sup-

posed to look like jewels. When paste isn't even good

enough to make you think it's glass, you have a real

example of junk, and all I wanted to do with it was

send it back to the two-for-a-slug vending machine it

obviously came from.

"Don't just look at it, put it on," my visitor directed,

sounding somewhat amused again. "I know it

probably offends your every aesthetic sense, but that's

only because it's in disguise. It's not jewelry, it's a

homing device for the flat-circuit transponder and will

keep you from getting lost in the fog. When you want

to know which way to go, clench your fist and hold it

up in front of you. If you need to bear left the left

jewel will flash, right and the right jewel will do the

same. Once you're dead on, the central jewel will

flash, and then you just keep walking until you run

right into it."

"Walking," I echoed, hoping hard the thing

wouldn't fit as I put my cup down then reluctantly

slipped the ring on my right ring finger. "And running

right into it. Every time you open your mouth, you

make this all sound better and better."

"It'll work out beautifully," he assured me with

confidence, supported, no doubt, by the fact that the

monstrosity fit my finger perfectly. "That ring will

also identify you for the ones who will be working

with you, two of our associated part-time agents who

help us out when the need arises. They were already

on their way when the computer decided your talent

fits in exactly with theirs, so they were alerted to watch

for you. When they think it's safe, they'll come over

and introduce themselves."

"Safe," I couldn't help echoing again as I reclaimed

my javi, wondering if there ever really was

such a thing. "What sort of talents do they have that

I fit in so well with them? Arson and mayhem?"

"You intend getting a lot of mileage out of what

Filster said, don't you?" he asked with a strange

lightness, leaning back in the chair to cross his legs.

"Beating people over the head with mistakes seems to

come natural to some females, but it wasn't my

mistake in the first place, so I think my head's taken

enough. I also think we'll both be better off if we

consider that part of our discussion closed."

For a field agent he was getting awfully pushy, but

all I did was shrug at the order thinly disguised as a

suggestion. How I reacted or didn't react to things was

none of his business, especially since his being there

hadn't been my idea. If he was trying to disassociate

himself and the rest of S.I. from Filster, he'd

eventually find out he didn't do much of a job of it.

"The two people you'll be working with have never

worked together before either," he went on after a

moment, realizing that my shrug was all the answer

I'd be giving to his comment. "The woman was

chosen because it was realized the Mists headquarters

would be guarded by the most sophisticated electronic

devices available, and her specialty area is electronics.

There's nothing so advanced that she doesn't know

about it, but a number of her own gadgets can't be

matched or countered by anything. Once you reach the

building she'll be able to get you into it, especially if

you're able to spot parts of the system she might otherwise miss."

"And the other is a man?" I asked, my inner mind

suddenly very interested in the woman I'd be meeting.

There were a couple of very important places begging

to be stroked, but had proven untouchable because of

security devices that couldn't be gotten around. I

always knew where those devices were, but had never

found anyone with the knowledge of how they could

be neutralized. If the woman turned out to have that

knowledge . . .

"Yes, the other is a man," the field agent said,

again sipping at his javi. "He was included because

of the dead bodies, the ones there was so little left of

only identification was possible. All sorts of explanations

accompanied the bodies as to how the people

died, but the various home-planet medical authorities

were able to confirm the causes of only a few. The

third member of your team is a medical specialist, one

who concentrates on research but at the same time

knows more than a little about other branches of

medicine. If you happen to come across another body, he'll

be able to tell us if the death was natural, accidental,

or caused."

"As long as the body in question isn't me. I hope

he has fun," I said with a small shiver. "Far be it

from me to criticize other people's tastes in leisure-

time activities, but he must have had a very limited

social life in his youth if pathology is one of his hobbies.

Is that it, or do we have more to talk about before

I can start packing?"

"Except for handing you these papers, reservations

and fund vouchers, that's all the business I have," he

answered, reaching into his jacket again for the packet

in question before passing it over. "Now, about our

date for when you get back. I thought we'd start with

dinner and dancing, maybe visit a club or two, and

then I can show you my apartment. It took me a while

to get it fixed up the way I wanted it, and I think you'll

like it."

"Of course I will," I answered smoothly as I rose

to my feet, giving his renewed grin a very small smile.

"I always enjoy seeing apartments people have put a

lot of money into. I certainly hope you won't be off

on a run through the wilds by the time I make it back."

"I can guarantee I won't be," he answered, the direct

look he gave me as he also stood showing that he

knew what I was hinting at. "I haven't met a woman

yet I was afraid of, and you're no exception. Since I

actually do make runs through the wilds, you might as

well stop trying to scare me. Whatever happens, I don't

expect to have any trouble handling it."

I discovered that he no longer had his cup when he

put his arms around me, and then he was giving me

the sort of kiss that can't in any way be described as

shy or passing-friendly. He seemed to have taken my

threat to strip his apartment as a challenge, and if he

really did go through the wilds, he couldn't be

the sort who let challenges go unanswered. My hands

were not only trapped between us, they were also filled

with papers and a javi cup, which made it almost

impossible to push or pull away from his demanding lips.

I squirmed around trying to get loose, upset over the

way he was making me kiss him, and then, suddenly,

I no longer was.

"Now I'm really looking forward to that date," he

said softly, letting me go so that he might put a finger

on my face. "Make sure you take care of yourself

during this thing. I don't like being stood up."

He grinned and kissed me lightly one last time, and

then he was striding toward the door. I watched him

until he was gone and I was alone again, and then I

angrily shook my head, answering him even though he

was no longer there. No, I would not be going on a

date with him when I got back, not for anything he

would find it possible to name. I had just found out

how attractive I really considered him, and even if I

intended continuing my association with S.I.—which

I didn't—he would not be any part of it. I'd have

enough interest brought into my life by the efforts of

the Twi Houses; letting him add to that would be worse

than suicidal.

I went back to the counter with my javi cup, thought

about packing, then said to hell with it and refilled the

cup. I didn't have all that much to pack, and I needed

the javi to help me get my reactions down from biological

and back up to intellectual. I had almost forgotten

that he had most likely been assigned to get me

interested in him, which went to show how thoroughly

S.I. had investigated me. They knew I liked big men

so they had provided one for me to become interested

in, an interest that would keep me with S.I. for as long

as they needed me. Associate, free-lance worker,

whatever they wanted to call it. I'd be theirs to use

any time they needed my abilities.

I left the packet of papers on the counter and took

my cup to the chair my visitor had used, still enough

bothered by what he'd done that the thought of revenge

was very satisfying. He'd tried romancing me to get what

his bosses wanted, but no matter how positive

a report he wrote, subsequent happenings would

not prove a match to it. We'd see how wide a grin he

wore when I not only didn't continue with S.I., but

used whatever I could get from their electronics expert

for myself. I didn't really care who was ultimately

responsible for the destruction of the four Houses that

had killed Seero as long as I was the one who made it

possible, and as soon as I returned to Gryphon that's

what I would be getting on with. The destruction of

four Houses. Without the help of the mighty S.I.

I sipped my javi as I felt the pleasure in thinking

about what I would do, then ran into something a little

less satisfying. I liked knowing the identity of the per-

son I decided to teach a lesson to, and the bastard who

had been here hadn't even told me his name.

Chapter 4

Being a member of the bodysuit generation is a benefit

to more than your cash account. Considering how light

bodysuits and their accessories are, you can

pack a month's worth of changes in a single, medium-

sized grip, and still have room left over for odds and

ends. I'd moved into the over-night with the single grip

and that's the way I moved out again, only not to go

back to my apartment. I took a public glide directly to

the shuttle port, surrendered the grip when the man

confirming my presence at the port demanded it, then

went to the appointed place where the shuttle was

expected to land at any minute. I had no doubt that the

shuttle was ready to land, but it's less hassle traveling

from planet to planet than it is taking off from or

landing on one. We who waited in the all-weather shelter

waited fifteen minutes longer than they'd told us we

would have to, were finally rewarded with the sight of

our transportation arriving, then were allowed to

board. Another fifteen minutes after we were settled

the shuttle began taxiing up the runway, and that meant

the worst of it was behind us. It took no time at all

before we were high enough to switch from thin-air

flying to no-air power assist, and then we were

matching with the liner.

If it wasn't such a pain getting off the ground, I

would enjoy everything about traveling. Liners move

so fast it isn't possible to even come close to imagining

their speed, but no one on board ever feels the

slightest hint of motion. Multiple light speed and

artificial gravity all come from the same math the big

brains say, but as far as my understanding of it goes,

they might as well say it's done with magic. Before

they found the math everyone was told it wasn't

possible to travel at light speed or beyond, but now we

can do almost anything we please. Except, of course,

get off the ground on time.

Once aboard the liner I was shown to the cabin that

had my grip in it, was handed a five-dimensional fold-

up that showed liner layout and scheduled mealtimes,

and then was left alone. If I'd needed help with the

fold-up I would have had it for the asking from the

steward who showed me to my cabin, but services like

that are added to the cost of your trip, something the

inexperienced traveler doesn't realize. I wasn't in any

way short of funds, but I do have this thing about

paying tribute when it isn't absolutely necessary. I took

time out to sneer at S.I. for having missed finding that

little whiz, at the same time trying to fold the fold-up

with the meal schedule out and, by pretending I had

six-foot-long arms, finally managed to do it. I hadn't

had the chance to eat before it was time to head for

the port, so when I saw we were just about right on

top of a scheduled meal, I tossed the fold-up onto my

bed and headed out.

Cabins on liners tend to be somewhat on the small

side, but with the extra amount of fun space that gives

you, no one really minds. There are game rooms and

lounges and bars and soda fountains and sensor rooms

and libraries and exercise halls and just about anything

you can name, all there for the use of passengers. Only

a very few, very exclusive entertainments aren't

included in the price of your ticket and if you've

developed a taste for those things you can usually afford to

pay extra for them. If you can't afford them but want

to do them anyway, you're best off trying to get some

help. Those who don't too often wind up in my field,

which doesn't really crowd the rest of us. Stealing,

like anything else, takes training and ability; if you try

to do without those requirements, you soon find your-

self doing without your freedom.

The wide yellow ship's corridors weren't really

crowded, not even with the number of people heading

for the dining area. I ambled along with everyone else,

looking forward to the meal, noticing how many other

people were wearing bodysuits like mine. The body-

suit covers you from shoulders to feet bottoms and

down to the wrists, stretches to fit easily no matter

what sort of contours you have, comes in every color

there is, and is so light you hardly know you're

wearing one. Most of the people I walked among wore

contrasting shorts as an accessory just as I did, but

some wore skirts, or vests with their shorts or skirts,

or fancy collars and cuffs along with everything else,

or maybe just jewelry. One woman with a spun svalk

suit of orange-red, had blue-white ice gems decorating

it, her hair dyed to match the gems and her walk

inplying the gems were real. There were quite a few

men around the woman, all trying to capture her

attention, all working very hard to pretend they weren't

having trouble deciding which to watch, the jewels or

her body.

I, myself, had no trouble deciding which I wanted

to look at, and not being into women was only a part

of it. I was curious as to whether those gems were the

genuine article, but not because I had any designs on

them. It happened that ice gems were something of a

hobby with me, and I enjoy comparing the ones I own

with what other people put their money out for. A

glance ahead showed me we were almost to the dining

hall. but if I maneuvered myself into the proper

position, I ought to have at least a minute or two to check

on their authenticity. Phony ice gems are easy to spot,

even without a loupe.

By increasing my pace I was able to begin moving

through the crowd, half an eye on where I was going,

the other eye and a half on the jewels. To avoid trouble

I was also trying to pretend I wasn't looking at the

gems at all, and all that watching-not-watching activity

took too much of my attention. The clumsy clod

was right on top of me before I caught the first glimpse

of him, and by then it was too late. I couldn't keep

from moving toward him just as he moved toward me,

his attention obviously elsewhere, and then we collided

the way jump-arounds sometimes do, glancingly

but hard enough to notice. I "oofed" as I bounced off

him, staying on my feet only because of my trained

balance, but his problem wasn't keeping erect. He'd

been holding his fold-up liner guide when we came

together, and the crash sent it flying out of his hand.

Now, reflexes are supposed to be the things that keep

us alive in hostile environments, but in civilized

surroundings you're expected to learn to control them.

The clod who ran into me had apparently never learned

that; without stopping to think about it, he jumped

to catch the fold-up before it hit the deck. Why he

bothered, I have no idea; the thing isn't really five-

dimensional, it only feels that way when you have to

refold it. Whatever his reasons he did move fast

enough to accomplish his aim, but when his oversized

foot came down on my normal one I screeched,

immediately losing interest in admiring his agility. He

hobbled the fold-up at the sound, but finally he had it

and then was kind enough to take his monstrous weight

off the extremity he had just crushed.

"Sorry about that, but maybe next time you'll learn

to watch where you're going," a deep voice came as

I balanced on one foot, trying to clutch at the mangled

other. "If you hadn't been trying to plow through the

crowd, you wouldn't have run into me."

"I ran into you?" I demanded in outrage, finally

looking up at the mindless fool. "You were the one

too busy ogling the scenery to watch where you were

going, and you were also the genius who thought the

fold-up would break if it hit the floor. I thought they

knew better than to let your sort out without a handler."

His jaw tightened at the insult and his big hand

closed harder around the fold-up he held, but there

wasn't much he could say. He was really big with

longish red hair and a mustache down to his chin to

match, hard gray eyes in a square-jawed, masculine

face, and a wide-muscled body that his tunic and

leggings didn't do anything to hide. Adding soft ankle-

boots to that let you see at a glance that he was from

Rober Tay, the arena world, the place that specialized

in breeding and training fighters for their sand arenas.

Every world in the Empire followed the top-named

fighters in their tries for the golden circlets, then bet

on their favorites in the multi-circlet challenges. Many

fighters died before they won anything at all, others

were crippled and permanently disqualified, but only

rarely did any of them retire for good without one of

those reasons forcing them to it. The most commonly

attributed reason for that was supposed to be total lack

of human intelligence, and the fact that most fighters

traveled with attendants started people calling the

attendants animal-handlers instead. It wasn't the sort of

comment you usually made to the fighter himself, not

if you had any interest in finding out what your natural

life span would turn out to be, but he had gotten me

mad in more ways than one, and I didn't really mind

returning the favor.

"If my—'sort'—needed handlers, you'd be regretting

that question right about now," he said at last, a

growl in his voice to match the coldness in his

eyes. "And if I was ogling anything, that's only

because I'm used to going after the best in sight. It's

also the reason I didn't happen to see you. But try

coming back when you're all grown up, maybe I'll

change my mind. Until then, though, I'd appreciate it

if you'd keep your suicide attempts at least twenty feet

away from wherever I happen to be."

His gray eyes swept over me in a quick, dismissive

way, and then he was striding toward the dining hall,

leaving me to stare furiously after him. Our argument

had collected a small crowd, and half of them were

chuckling while the other half looked after the departing

fighter as though he were crazy. For my own part

I knew he was crazy, especially for thinking I didn't

know what I looked like. Most men had no trouble at

all finding me attractive, so his considering me substandard

was hardly a crushing blow to my ego. What

was getting me so mad was his crack about my not

being fully grown, a point I was justifiably touchy

about. As I watched the fool disappear into the dining

hall, I promised myself he would end up regretting

having said that.

It took another minute or two of flexing my foot,

and then I was able to use it to make my own way into

the dining hall without limping. I looked around the

paneled and carpeted room as I entered, hoping there

were some empty tables left, and spotted a small one

straight back and to the right, just in front of the

projection-screen wall. The screen on that side was

showing a typical Adexian rainstorm, complete with chain

lightning and three-hundred-mile-an-hour winds,

which made it a perfect match to my mood of the

moment. I headed for the table, reached it before anyone

else, and claimed it by sitting down.

I couldn't have been studying the table-top menu for

more than two minutes, when I was interrupted by the

presence of someone hovering at my left elbow. I gave

the presence about thirty seconds to see if it would go

away, and when it didn't I looked up ready to ask it

to go away. I was in no mood for company, but the

nastiness I'd been about to speak disappeared at sight

of the girl who stood there, almost wringing her hands.

She wasn't very tall but was definitely on the chubby

side, had long blond hair streaked with purple to match

her bodysuit, and had the largest, widest brown eyes

I'd ever seen. She looked to be just short of terrified,

and I couldn't imagine what was bothering her.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, glancing over my

right shoulder to check on the storm. It wasn't any

worse than it had been when I'd arrived, and surely

the girl knew it wasn't really there. The wall may have

looked like a window, but even liners aren't big

enough to carry storms for the viewing pleasure of

their passengers.

"I—know this—is an awful—imposition, but is

that—seat taken?" the girl forced herself to say, the

words coming out like a request for charity. "I'm

supposed to meet—someone here, but he hasn't—

arrived yet. and I really couldn't—take up a table

all—by myself—"

"No, the seat isn't taken," I assured her quickly,

coming close to feeling my own pain over her very

painful embarrassment. "You can sit here until your

friend comes, and then the two of you can find a table

together."

"That's really good of you," the girl said in almost

a whisper, moving to the chair opposite me with a shy

but brightly warm smile. "I'm—bad at speaking to

strangers, so I appreciate this more than you know.

I'm Lidra Kament."

"It's nice to know you, Lidra," I said, returning

her smile. "Would you like a cup of javi or something

while you're waiting? I'm about to place my order, so

I can just add whatever you want to it."

"You really are nice," the girl said in a very soft

voice, a shadow of unexpected amusement lurking

somewhere behind her words. "Most people I do this

to don't even look in my direction, let alone ask me

questions or offer me things. I'll order when our third

gets here, but just for form's sake you'd better tell me

your name."

I forced myself to pay attention to the menu I was

ordering from instead of jerking my head up to stare

at the girl, but once I'd pressed the proper boxes I did

look up. There wasn't a chance anyone had heard what

she'd said to me, and after the routine she'd gone

through when she'd first appeared, no one would

wonder why they couldn't hear her and certainly wouldn't

make the effort to listen. I know I hadn't expected to

be found by my coworkers quite that soon, and my

expression must have held a trace of my surprise.

"There are times you do get lucky with liner connections,"

the girl Lidra said with a hidden grin, her

voice still so low I was almost reading her lips. "Since

we knew you were due to come on board at Gryphon,

I synced with the frequency of your ring when the

shuttle came back and spotted you that way. Chal and

I met completely by accident too, and once we all find

we're going to the same place, we can decide to pal

around together. Now will you please share your name

out loud?"

"By the way, I'm Dalisse Imbro," I said, putting

my palms on the table as I leaned back in my chair,

trying to decide if I liked what had happened. "Most

people call me Inky, because my favorite color is

black. What's your favorite color, Lidra?"

"No matter how it looks, it really isn't red," she

answered, now appearing the least bit uncomfortable.

"I wasn't trying to embarrass you, Inky, this is just

my standard contact routine. People deliberately tune

out of conversations they find distasteful, and having

them ignore what we're saying is better than using a

damper field to make it happen. We'll find enough

need for that sort of thing later on."

"I suppose we will," I allowed, accepting the

explanation in place of an apology. I'm not very good at

apologizing myself, which may be why I don't think

much of people who start out by glibly saying the worn

'sorry.' If you're really sorry, the word isn't quite that

easy to say. And there was no denying that her way

of making contact was clever, which led me to add,

"I'm glad you decided to sit here, Lidra. My friend

was supposed to go on this vacation with me, but at

the last minute she got sick. It hasn't even been an

hour, but I'm already learning how lonely a solitary

vacation can be."

"Then I'm glad I stopped here, too," the girl said

with that not-quite-hidden grin, relief clear in her large

eyes. "Even if we don't happen to be going to the

same place, Inky, at least we can hang around together

here on the liner."

We had enough time to discover—with great

surprise—that we were both going to Joelare, and then

my food was brought. Lidra watched without comment

while the dishes were set in front of me, but once the

waiter had gone on his way she produced a strange

grimace.

"If you make a habit of eating that sort of junk

food, you won't be living very long," she said, an

odd kind of amusement behind the criticism. "That

stuff will kill you faster than an enemy. If you have

any doubts, wait until Chal gets here. He'll be glad to

tell you all about it."

"He isn't one of those." I groaned, understanding

why she'd been amused, then I determinedly took an-

other bite of my grilled meat-round on a bun. "Well.

he can be as finicky as he likes about his own food.

but if he tries changing my eating habits I'll defend

myself. Once he loses the contents of his pouch or

pockets a time or three, he'll get the message and leave

me alone."

"I haven't known him very long, but I have the

feeling he may not be that easy to discourage," she

said with a small laugh, her dark eyes dancing. "When

we first met he thought I really was as heavy as I look,

not realizing there's some of my equipment I don't

want anyone putting hands on without my being there.

He was already into a very gentle lecture before I knew

what he was doing, and I actually had to show him the

truth before he let up on me. There is a way to distract

him from nutrition, a way I discovered to be very enjoyable,

but you may not share my tastes for that sort of thing."

The expression in her eyes had turned very amused.

but as I looked at her I had the sudden impression she

was more an experienced, self-controlled woman than

a young, flighty girl. She'd been fishing around in my

direction for reactions, trying to find out as much as

she could about me without coming straight out and

asking, but was being as fair as possible in her game-

playing. Before checking my preferences and habits

she was telling me her own, and there's not much more

you can ask from a near-total stranger.

"I'm not above enjoying myself, but I don't believe

in buying freedom from pestering," I said, beginning

to share her amusement. "I was raised by someone

who never tried running my life; he only made sure I

knew what all my options were before I came to a

decision about something. The only problem with

being raised like that is it doesn't prepare you for

everyone else in the universe, three-quarters of whom know

what's best for you and are determined to see you do

things their way. I have an abysmally small amount of

patience when it comes to that sort, which they tend

to find out if they hang around very long."

"I have a feeling poor Chal is in for it," she said,

her attempt at a sigh buried beneath delighted laughter.

"Just try keeping in mind that he's basically a

very decent person—and that we're probably going to

need him, one way or the other. He's— Oh, wait a

minute. Here he comes."

Her chair had her facing the doors leading into the

dining hall, and when I turned I saw a man coming

toward us who wasn't quite what I'd been expecting.

He was fairly tall and broad-shouldered, had very light

brown hair with light-colored eyes, and sported a tan

that most sensor stars would have envied. He was

dressed in light-blue slacks and white, long-sleeved

shirt, a style favored by some of the more conservative

planets of the Empire, which meant he also had to

wear shoes. Bodysuits relieve you of that necessity

unless you intend going some place where there's

likely to be mud or snow or some such, but the length

and ease of his stride said he didn't mind wearing

them. He grinned a grin at my companion that turned

his face downright handsome, and snagged an empty

chair from a nearby table as he passed it, giving himself

something to sit in when he joined us at our table.

"Wait till you hear," he enthused in a voice he

wasn't able to hold down much, his excitement almost

enough to make him bounce where he sat. "Lidra, you

won't believe who's on board this liner!"

"Chal, I'd like you to say hello to Dalisse Imbro,

known to a certain select few as Inky," the girl said

with what was turning out to be usual amusement, her

hand making a graceful gesture in my direction. "She

and I met in the same lucky, accidental way you and

I did, and believe it or not, she's also going to Joelare."

"Well, what a surprise," the man said, turning his

head to give me a nod and a grin. "Someone else

going to the Mists of the Ages. I certainly hope you

suggested we all go together, Lidra. With three of us,

we should have a wonderful time. Now, don't you

girls want to hear the news?"

"What news is that, Chal?" Lidra asked with a

glance toward me, one that had something of a shrug

m it. "From your reaction, I'm ready to believe the

newest Miss Empire is on board with us."

"Better than that," Chal answered with a laugh,

apparently too sure of himself to be bothered by

teasing. "I just found out that Serendel is on board,

something no one was expecting. He seems to have

picked up the liner at Forge, the port of call just before

Gryphon."

"Are you serious?" Lidra asked him as she leaned

forward, the widening of her eyes destroying all traces

of the sophisticated woman she had only just started

to show. "Serendel is my absolute favorite, and I'd

kill for an hour alone with him! Chal, are you sure it's

true?"

"He's been seen by any number of people," the

man assured her with confidence, enjoying her

reaction as he leaned forward to put his arms on the table.

"Serendel has always been my favorite too, but if I

ever got an hour alone with him, I don't think he'd

enjoy it as much as he would yours. I don't believe

what they've published about his diet, and I'd give my

next year's research budget to get a piece of him under

a scans-field microscope. Under ideal conditions, the

piece would still be attached to him."

"Who are you two talking about?" I interrupted to

ask, mostly to divert Chal from what he'd been

saying. If you're a mass murderer and you chop people

up, planetary governments pull out all the stops in an

effort to get you. If you're a research scientist, though,

you can chop up just about anyone you like, and every

official in sight will smile and nod in approval.

"You can't mean you don't know who Serendel is!"

Lidra said with the next thing to outrage, she and Chal

both looking at me now. "Where could you possibly

have been hiding these last four years? Serendel is the

best of the five triple-gold winners, and most people

believe he'll take the crown this year. Do you know

how few glads have taken the crown after only a triple?"

"So he's a Rober Tay fighter," I said with no

enthusiasm at all, lifting my cup of javi before leaning

back in my chair. "I think I have heard something

about him, but I don't pay much attention to arena

doings. I usually have a pretty heavy schedule, and if

I were going to back any of them, it would probably

be Farison."

They continued to stare at me for a few seconds,

their expressions an identical sort of blankness that

declared my insanity without words, and then, an

instant later, were happily back to being caught up in

their enthusiasm

"How could he have been on the liner for three days

without anyone finding out about it?" Lidra asked

Chal, the ardent worshiper eager for the latest word

about her god. "Everyone in the Empire must know

what he looks like, even if he doesn't happen to be in

fighting leather."

"He must have stayed in his cabin after coming

aboard," Chal answered with a matching eagerness,

the two of them proving that even above-average

intelligence is often no proof against low-taste

diversions. "If he disguised himself on the shuttle up and

had his meals delivered by chute instead of waiter, no

one would have been the wiser. If I know anything at

all about fighters, three days of being locked up gave

him a case of screaming cabin fever. That has to be

why he suddenly showed himself."

"But not just ordinary cabin fever," Lidra said in

the tones of revelation, her finger and stare pointing

toward Chal. "If he came aboard in disguise, he could

have come out of his cabin in the same, anonymous

way. If he came out as himself, he must be after some-

thing he can get most easily by being himself! Oh,

Chal, if I only knew where he was!"

"Sorry, Lidra, but if you're right, he's already found

what he was looking for," the man replied, his totally

unapologetic expression reinforcing my belief about

those who started sentences with the word "sorry."

"Take a look over there, and you'll see what I mean."

Chal turned his head toward the back of the hall

rather than pointing, and when the girl followed his

gaze she made a sound of deep disappointment.

Having nothing better to do I looked in that direction as

well, and saw the pretty woman in her red-orange

bodysuit with the ice gems—sitting at a table with the

clumsy hulk who had nearly run me over and crippled me!

"You don't mean that's your magnificent Serendel?"

I asked, the sight of him annoying me all over

again. "That big fool with the red hair?"

"Yes, the big fool with the red hair who has every

woman in the room—including me—drooling over

him." Lidra turned back to say, a dangerous edge to

her voice and near-murder in her eyes. "Do you have

any final words you'd like to utter before I kill you

where you sit?"

"Not a one," I came back, returning her stare over

the run of my cup. "If my continued existence

depends on my saying something nice about that jerk,

I'd rather keep quiet and have it end."

"You sound as though you have something personal

against him," Chal remarked with obvious curiosity,

his hand patting Lidra's arm in an effort to calm her.

"Don't tell me you were silly enough to bet against

him, and now blame him for whatever money you

lost?"

"Money has nothing to do with it," I answered with

a snort, clanking my cup down on the table. "I was

on my way here for a meal, minding my own business,

when the damned fool ran right into me. He was so

busy staring at the object of his desire he almost broke

my foot, then had the nerve to insist the collision was

my fault. If he was that hot, he should have had an

escort sent to his cabin."

"I think it's against the laws of the glad guild for

any of them to pay for it." Lidra said in a breathless

sort of way, her eyes wide again. "You mean you

actually came close enough to him to get stepped on?

Why can't I ever have luck like that?"

"Lidra, remember what his fighting weight is,"

Chal put in, chuckling at the face I was making in

response to the girl's ridiculous comment. "If our new

friend here really was stepped on, she's lucky she can

still walk. Just to be on the safe side, after we eat I'll

check the foot over. And biologically speaking. Inky,

you can't blame him for being that—eager. He really

has no choice in the matter."

"I can blame him for anything I like," I came back,

uninterested in listening to excuses for the man, even

supposed medical ones. "If other men can control

themselves, so can he. The plain fact of the matter is,

fighters don't care to control themselves. They're so

used to having women throw themselves all over them,

they get to the point of thinking it's owed them."

"My dear girl, it is owed them," Chal said with a

lot of amusement, leaning back in his chair as he

looked at me. "Our species may have advanced to the

point of conquering the stars, but our genetic references

are just what they were when we huddled around

tribal fires, fearing the dark and the creatures it held.

Female codes demand that they seek out the strongest

and most successful of the males, to insure as far as

possible the strength and success of their offspring.

Male codes insist that they take the most attractive

females—the definition of attractive varying with

cultural needs and biases—and that as often as possible

before they're rendered incapable of adding to the race

through death or crippling. The drive is strongest

among those who face physical danger on a regular

basis, which means, of course, among the glads. The

rest of us know we have time, so we're not driven by

the same urgency. Serendel could die in his very next

challenge, and his body won't let him forget that. I'm

really surprised he was able to hold out for as long as

three days."

"It's too bad I wasn't around when he lost the

fight," Lidra said glumly, elbow on table and face

held in palm. "There aren't many men in this Empire

I would choose to have children by, but he's certainly

one of them. And I want to have my kids soon, while

I'm still young enough to have fun with them. I

suppose I'd better face the fact that if Inky couldn't

distract him, I'd have no chance at all unless I used one

of my gadgets. That means you're still at the top of

the list, Chal, so don't forget about applying for leave

after this thing is over. Now that we've finally met,

there's no sense in wasting time."

"I won't forget," the man said softly, looking at

the girl with a very faint smile she didn't happen to

see, and then he was back to looking at me with

another expression entirely. "And now that you've

mentioned it. I wonder why Serendel wasn't distracted by

Inky. She's attractive enough by any standards you'd

care to use, so why didn't he choose her?'

"Can't we find anything else to talk about?" I

asked, the annoyance I'd been feeling beginning to

reach for new heights. "My reservation in the Mists

calls for a three day tour, what they call a half-week.

I understand that many of the tours are for even less

than that, which doesn't make sense. Why would they

limit a tourist's stay like that?"

"Maybe it has something to do with the constant

fog," Lidra answered, allowing herself only reluctantly

to be distracted from the previous topic. "When

you leave a day-night schedule—even an artificial

one—for nothing but gray that varies only a little,

something inside you could start getting anxious.

Different people are probably able to take the sameness

for different amounts of time, but maybe most people

are quick to reach the point of screaming to be let out

and have to work up to being able to take more. Since

the Mists people would like to have you come back

again to tour a different section, they try to get you

out the first time before the screaming starts."

"I hope it's also before the, mold sets in," I muttered,

trying to keep my distaste only among the three

of us. "Wandering around in damp, constant fog isn't

my idea of a fun time, no matter what they've done to

pretty it up. I hope you two are in good enough shape

to keep up with the pace I intend setting."

"The pace you'll be setting depends on how the tour

is set up," Lidra told me, her tone of voice back to

being one step above inaudible despite the fact that

her expression hadn't changed. "They'll be sending

us through the section we're booked for, and it has to

have something besides fog. And let's not forget the

contention that it's so compelling some people have

insisted on staying longer. That's one of the points

we're supposed to be verifying."

"Well, if you hear me deciding to stay longer, you

won't have to wonder if they've gotten to me," I told

her, sure she heard the dryness no matter how softly I

was speaking. "At that point you'll know, and hope-

fully will have enough time to yell for help before you

go the same route. It's just too bad any help will be

too far away to help."

"But it won't be," she said, and the amusement was

back to lurking in her eyes. "It's highly unlikely that

we'll need them, but a destroyer stuffed with Empire

shock troops won't be far from the planet while we're

on it. If it turns out we do need them, all we have to

do is call. For you, that consists of covering all three

of the jewels in your ring, then pressing down on them

three times in a row in rapid succession. You do it

nine times with a ten second pause between each set

of three, and before you know it the place is being

overrun. Chal and I have different means, but the

results will be the same. Our friends don't want to lose

any of us, not if they can possibly help it."

"That certainly does make me feel loved," I commented,

experiencing a need to say something about

the awe and gratitude with which I was being filled.

The field agent who had given me the ring must have

known about its additional ability, but he hadn't

mentioned it. Either he was counting on Lidra to give me

all the data I needed—which is one hell of a way to

design a briefing—or he didn't care to see me too over-

burdened with unnecessary knowledge. When you trust

someone, you don't tend to pick over the available

information before passing it on, which said quite a

lot about how far S.I. trusted me.

"Now I know why Serendel didn't choose Inky,"

Chal said suddenly, his light eyes filled with the

satisfaction of a puzzle solved. "I've been seeing it all

along, but only just now noticed it when her

expression changed. I think the best words I can use to

describe it are innocent and wholesome."

"Watch it, Chal," Lidra warned with a laugh. "As

close as she is, if she throws that cup at you she's not

likely to miss. I can see what you mean about the way

she looks, but what does it have to do with Serendel?

Is he supposed to be turned off by innocence and

wholesomeness?"

"If all those articles are right about his sense of

decency, he is," my almost-target answered with a

grin, keeping an eye on the cup I still held without

letting it discourage his fun time. "If a man has any

standards at all, one of the firmest will be on the point

of 'mining' a 'nice' girl. If he gets serious about that

nice girl, that's another story, but if all he's looking

for is horizontal exercise, he'll choose an already

experienced female. If you look at it right, his rejection

of Inky could mean he's really quite attracted to her."

"Chal, that's disgusting," I told him while Lidra

laughed, failing to see what they both found so

amusing. "I may like my men big, but I also insist that

they have personalities and intelligence. Since the

mighty Serendel doesn't qualify on those last two

points, he can be attracted in someone else's direction.

As for me, I think I can use a nap to make up for the

sleep I lost hurrying to catch this liner. Maybe by the

time I wake up, you two will be ready to talk about

something other than your favorite fighter."

"Haven't you checked your planetary-destination

schedule yet?" Lidra asked as I started to get out of

my chair, a faint amusement still with her. "If you

shift over right now, what you just ate was dinner,

with a night's sleep ahead of you. Chal and I are

already on the schedule, and we were going to spend

some time in the game rooms after our own dinner.

Why don't you join us, and turn in for the night later?"

"Thanks anyway, but I don't think so," I said,

really in no mood to be entertained. If I'd still been on

Gryphon I could have done some work during that

night, but liner nights are good for nothing but sleep.

"If I don't get my rest I stop looking pure and whole-

some, and that would be a crime against humanity or

something. Suppose I meet you two here for breakfast?"

"Maybe a good night's sleep and a fortifying break-

fast will bring you back to your senses," Lidra said,

the gleam in her eye downright evil. "Anyone who

thinks Farison would have a chance against Serendel

needs something to bring them back to reality."

Chal laughed outright at that, but all I did was shake

my head and turn away without saying anything else.

Glad-groupies are impossible to argue with, and I

should have known better than to even think about

trying. What I wanted right then wasn't an argument,

but the privacy of my small cabin. I needed some time

alone to curse everyone who thought I was sweet or

wholesome or innocent-looking—or still hadn't grown

up—and to think about what I would do first once I

had gotten back to Gryphon. I strode out of the dining

hall, trying to decide which of the Twi Houses I would

do best allying with, and thought nothing further about

all the people I'd seen hovering around the area where

Serendel sat, happily drinking in the sight of him.

Chapter 5

The next ship's morning found me wide awake and

feeling really good, which lasted until I met Lidra and

Chal in the dining hall. They'd taken a larger table not

far from where we'd sat the night before, about fifteen

feet from the right-hand wall window which now

showed a violently spectacular vista of volcanic

eruptions. My two new acquaintances were paying more

attention to their food than to the supplied scenery,

but when I came up to the table they actually took a

second or two out to smile and nod.

"Morning, Inky," Lidra said around a mouthful of

cereal as I sat. "There isn't much time, so you'd

better order and eat as fast as you can."

"She can order fast, but you'll have to let her take

her time with the eating," Chal put in, the words more

of an order than a comment. "She won't enjoy it very

much if she has indigestion, which is what you'll get

if you don't stop swallowing without tasting. And by

the way, Inky, how's your foot feeling this morning?

I didn't get a chance to look at it last night the way I

wanted to."

"My foot is fine," I answered as I ordered juice

and javi and two slices of pro-pure. "I know you're

probably disappointed, but they won't be able to add

me to your idol's maim stats. And what am I supposed

to be hurrying-but-not-hurrying for?"

"If she takes her time eating, she'll miss the opening

warm-ups," Lidra said to Chal, ignoring the question

I'd asked. "Even more to the point, we'll miss

them. If we don't stay here until she's through and

then drag her along, do you think she'll go anywhere

near the gym?"

"Getting her sick won't help in changing her mind,"

Chal returned as he took another spoonful of his soft-

boiled eggs, obviously unimpressed with Lidra's

arguments. "And speaking about getting sick, you

really will have to add to your breakfast order, Inky.

Pro-pure isn't a food, it's a supplement—and an

artificial one at that. If you don't want to die from

malnutrition, what you need in your body is food."

"Food doesn't do well in my body while I'm working

out, Chal," I answered with a sweet, innocent

smile as I looked at him. "Throwing up isn't my idea

of fun, and the pro-pure is all protein with enough

electrolytes to get me through the session. After that

I'll be able to eat all the greasy hot-fries and grilled

meat-rounds I like. And what's supposed to be

happening in the gym?"

They immediately began choking, Lidra with laughter

and Chal with outraged indignation, the result of

trying to talk and swallow both at the same time. A

waiter came over with my order while they were still

fighting to stop coughing, so I was able to drink my

juice without being bothered. By the time I put the

emptied glass aside and reached for the first slice of

pro-pure, though, Chal had recovered enough to be

able to split his stem-stare between Lidra and me.

"You don't have to encourage her, Lidra," the girl

was told, an obvious effort to banish her continuing

amusement. "If she starts thinking what she said was

cute and clever, she might even go so far as to try it.

Inky—Dalisse—I know you're not a child, so I won't

spend time lecturing you. All I'll say is that what we're

about to do is very important, too important for any

of us not to be in peak condition. To be sure of that

I'll order all of our meals from now on, and then none

of us will have to worry."

"The hell you will," I countered as Lidra almost

choked again, the good mood I'd been in beginning to

thin in the presence of his "helpful" attitude. "You,

more than anyone else, should know, Chal, that

species survival depends most heavily on the ability to

adapt. Anyone can keep going on the best and healthiest

foods available, but it takes true survival ability

to thrive on the junk food most prevalent in our society

today. If you're interested in continuing on with the

rest of the species, my friend, you'd better hurry up

and start adapting."

Chal stared at me wordlessly with his mouth moving

just a little, but Lidra put her head back and laughed

like hell. I didn't know if she was laughing at what

I'd said or at the way Chal was taking it, but it didn't

really matter. This time I was able to finish the slice

of pro-pure and half my javi in relative peace, and then

Chal managed to pull himself together.

"That has to be one of the most ridiculous arguments

I've ever heard," he stated, annoyed with Lidra's

ongoing chuckling, but apparently determined to

ignore it. "You can't possibly believe that any more

than I do, and even beyond that . . ."

"What has belief got to do with truth?" I interrupted

to ask, still blandly innocent. "If I jump off the

top of the Empire building on Gryphon while believing

I can fly, will that stop me from splattering when I hit

the pavement? Some things can be affected by belief,

but Ultimate Truth isn't one of them. And isn't eating

right considered to be an Ultimate Truth?"

"I always thought it was just plain good sense,"

Chal came back, finally understanding that the

straighter he played it, the worse off he would be. "I

can prove it's good sense by the kind of physical shape

I'm in, which happens to be excellent. Can you and

your Ultimate Truth say the same?"

"Well, I am a little on the underdeveloped side," I

admitted with a sigh that caused Chal's eyes to briefly

flicker down from my face to the top of my bodysuit.

"That's why I work out, to see if I can't improve on

the physical shape I'm in. If you and your good sense

think you're in better condition than me and my

Ultimate Truth, why don't we test the theory by working

out together for a while? You may have noticed I

already have on my exercise bodysuit."

"Don't be silly, of course he hasn't noticed," Lidra

said with a small laugh that brought a grin to Chal.

"Why would he notice a skin-tight black suit that

seems to be promising to go transparent if it's stared

at for a while? And don't try to tell me you're wearing

anything under that. If you were, you wouldn't have

brought that large an eyeball collection to the table

with you. Or are you going to pretend you didn't

notice all the stares when you walked in?"

"As a matter of fact, I didn't," I said, feeling the

least bit uncomfortable over the way Lidra was teasing

me. "Getting stared at sometimes is just one of those

things that happen. As long as it doesn't happen at the

wrong time, there's no sense in making a fuss over it.

But I still don't have an answer to my question. Are

you up to working out with me, Chal?"

"With Lidra sitting here right next to me, I refuse

to answer that question," he came back, his grin and

words making the girl chuckle again. "Whether or not

I'll join you in the gym is another matter entirely. I

can't see any reason not to join you—except for the

fact that there probably won't be any room for us to

work out, together or individually. The crowds will be

too thick."

"That's the reason I was trying to hurry you," Lidra

said, her amusement finally withdrawn in favor of faint

wariness, possibly due to the frown I could feel myself

wearing. "Someone else will be working out in the

gym this morning, and if half the ship doesn't show

up to watch, you can bet they're nothing less than

dead. Seeing it on the specials is nothing like seeing

it when you're right there."

"Don't tell me," I said, my tone so flat it could

have been used to land a shuttle on. "Your idol is

putting on a show for the benefit of the lowly masses,

and you can't wait to ooh and ahh. I hate to tell you

this, but I left every one of my hoorays back on

Gryphon, right next to my yays and lookatthats. I think

you two had better count on going without me."

"But we won't do that," Lidra came back, a sleek

assurance edging aside the wariness she no longer

seemed to need. "We're supposed to be a team, and

teams like ours should stay together while they're

learning each other. If you end up in the sticky, it

helps to know what to expect from the people around

you. We can't get to know each other if you keep

going your own way, so this time you'll go ours. If

it'll make you feel any better, you can criticize Serendel

while we defend him—if you can find anything

about him to criticize."

"We won't be together long enough for me to list

everything there is to criticize about him," I countered,

just to let her know I was taking her up on her

offer. The girl was right about our needing to learn to

know one another, especially when our lives could

conceivably depend on that knowledge. I had experience

going out with teams, and didn't have to be told

how important it was to know beforehand which way

everyone would jump if the stroke went sour. "And

you sound as though you've worked with strangers

before," I added after a moment.

"I certainly have," she said with a grimace, reaching

for her cup of javi. "If the first time hadn't been

against intellectual types rather than heavies, it could

also have been the last time. My teammate was

supposed to be the best with computers ever born, an

opinion he managed to slip into every conversation we

had, and he did seem to have very little trouble cracking

the access code of our targets once I got him past

the electronics they had on guard. The only problem

was, when someone unexpectedly showed up in the

offices, I turned around to find him gone, leaving me

to get out or get caught on my own."

"What did you do?" Chal demanded, his frown

showing more than faint disapproval. "If I'd been

there, he would have needed specialists once I caught

up with him."

"He almost needed them when I caught up with

him," Lidra returned with a snort, sharing his feeling.

"If he'd stayed he couldn't have helped, but at least

he would have made me feel less abandoned. What I

did at the time, though, was the only thing I could do:

I turned invisible."

"Now, that's a trick I'd like to learn," I said with

a grin, pushing aside the empty pro-pure plate to lean

my forearms on the table. "Some people will swear I

already know how, but there's a difference between

talent and true invisibility. Are you into giving lessons?"

"I'm afraid lessons won't do it," she said with a

laugh, only glancing at the odd expression on Chal's

face. It was part amusement and part admiration, but

his mad against her former partner was still there as

well. "One of my gadgets caused the invisibility, but

it's really very simple to build. It's based on the

principle used by privacy curtains, but generates a 180

degree reflecting surface rather than simply distorting

a preset field of vision. Designing the function is easy

when you compare it to the time you need to spend

recircuiting, but even the recircuiting only takes about

a week."

"Oh, is that all it takes," I said in a way that made

Chal laugh as I sat back again. "If I'd known it was

that easy, I would have done it years ago."

"Well, you should have asked me," she said with

a smoothly innocent expression, taking the teasing

better than I had. "I wouldn't have minded telling you.

Are we all ready to go now? If we wait much longer,

we won't even get in the doors."

I groaned at the reminder and reluctantly finished

the last of my javi, then got to my feet under protest

and let them drag me out. There were any number of

things I'd rather have been doing instead of watching

a fighter work out, but if it was that important to my

new teammates it would hardly kill me to go along

with them. With the number of people bound to be

there it wasn't likely I was in danger of needing to

speak to the big fool, after all, and once he had left

and had taken his admirers with him, I'd be able to

use the gym for my own workout.

There was a thin stream of people moving through

the main corridor heading for the gym. so we simply

joined them and went with the flow. The over wide

double doors of the room were standing open when we

got there, and we entered to see that half the ship re-

ally had shown up. An area of about twenty feet by

twenty had been roped off to the far left of the gym,

and the buzz of the crowd surrounding the area

sounded child-level excited. There was enough room

left over for a couple of people to be involved in their

own workouts, but even as we came to a stop to the

right of the incoming flow of new arrivals, one of those

exercising gave it up to go and wait with those who

had come for a show.

"Oh, good, he hasn't gotten here yet," Lidra said

in a low voice, eying the crowd with excitement of

her own. "Remember to stay as close to me as you

can, you two, but don't go past the line of my shoulder

I'll be using a hemispherical repellent field to get

us as far front as we want to go, and you're best off

being out of it. It won't hurt you, but it's everyone

else we want to make uncomfortable enough to move,

not one of us."

"I'm glad to see you come well-enough equipped to

get the job done," I commented, having no intentions

whatsoever of asking her what a repellent field was.

"It's a good thing this isn't a real vacation, or you

might have gotten caught short."

"I make it a practice never to leave home without

the essentials," she answered with a smugness Chal

and I both found funny, waving one hand in airy

dis-missal. "I was tempted to leave some of it behind in

my cabin on the chance that Serendel might look my

way, but that sort of off-again on-again poundage is

too hard to explain. I guess I'll have to settle for me

looking at him. Are we ready to move?"

"Why don't you two go ahead, and I'll join you

once he gets here?" I suggested, having taken a minute

to look around the unoccupied part of the gym. "I

really hate standing in crowds doing nothing, and I see

a mat over there where I can get some loosening up

in. Then once the show is over, Chal and I can see

which of us follows the most profitable eating regimen."

"But if we go ahead without you, how will you

get through?" Lidra asked, turning to glance at the

waiting spectators. "People like that sometimes get

huffy if all you do is try to crowd them. An attempt

to get ahead of them is usually considered a capital

crime."

"Only for those who don't know how to move

through crowds," I said with all the assurance she

seemed to need, at the same time giving her a grin.

"The man who raised me had a lot of friends, and

they all felt they were under some kind of geas to teach

me everything they could of their various specialties,

even if I never intended using any of it. Every one of

them considered me a star pupil, so I don't think you

have to worry."

"I guess I'll just have to take your word for it,"

she grudged, but was already on the way to matching

my grin. "And if it does work out right, maybe you

could give me some lessons. That way I can think

about catching Serendel's eye next time."

She gave me a small wave and then headed off with

Chal following, which meant I was able to aim my

own steps toward the deserted mat to the right of the

doorway, not too far from the wall. This corner of the

gym looked almost bare, with nothing but mats and

climbing ropes and wall peg lifters and such between

a couple of private-looking doors. The more

sophisticated equipment was over near where the exhibition

would take place, and a lot of it had people sitting or

standing on its benches and frames to allow them a

better view. It was a pure waste of good equipment,

but happily I didn't need it just for loosening up.

I walked to the center of the mat and immediately

bent over, stretching my arms down to where my palms

were flat on the rough surface I stood on, then sending

them back between my ankles as I stretched even

lower. For some reason I was remembering how Seero

used to tease me when I said I had to loosen up,

insisting that I didn't have to, I only wanted to. I started

out with the flexibility most people had to work up to,

he'd always told me, and then went on from there to

places most, including him, couldn't reach. I could

almost hear him chuckling as he watched, telling me

my palms-to-the-floor handicap ought to be my having

to stand on two-inch-high blocks. . . .

I straightened up and then folded into sitting on the

mat, trying to drive those thoughts away from me. It

had been a long time since I'd last stopped to feel my

loss, to send out my need for the close companionship

and warm support I'd known for all those years—only

to find the usual place of it forever emptied. Seero had

always been there for me, always, and like a silly child

I'd assumed he always would be. I couldn't yet cope

with the thought of his being gone, not on an

emotional level, so I hadn't even tried. All I'd done had

been to look at those who had thrown his life away,

and swear they would feel the same loss they'd given

me, the same helplessness while knowing exactly what

was happening. I needed to get on with fulfilling that

vow even more than I needed to breathe, but there I

sat, on my way to investigating something utterly

unimportant, wasting the time I should be spending on

what was really vital . . .

I took a deep breath, spread my legs and stretched

my body down to the mat left, right and center, then

bent my legs back at the knees so that my heels were

close to my thighs. Letting all that burning impatience

get the better of me would be stupid, most especially

since there wasn't anything I could do about it just

then. For the most part I'd have to wait it out, but if

Lidra thought I'd be letting the tour people set my pace

in the Mists, she wasn't as bright as she was supposed

to be. Ours would be the fastest tour in the history of

the Mists of the Ages, and that would include finding

and breaking into their headquarters building.

Slowly, using muscle control, I began letting my

body bend backward toward the mat. Lying flat while

your legs are bent at the knees gives strength and

stretch to your thigh muscles and tone to your body,

and isn't anywhere near as painful as some people

claim. You may be able to feel some strain if you pay

attention to it, but relaxing is easier if you look at

something else while you're doing it. I looked up at

the gym ceiling hanging a full thirty feet above me,

seeing the network of narrow and wide metal beams

spanning the room about ten feet below that,

consciously relaxing my muscles once I was flat down on

the mat. I intended staying like that only a minute or

two before raising myself again just as slowly, but

suddenly something besides the ceiling appeared high

above me.

I didn't know where he'd come from, but from my

place on the mat he looked almost as tall as the net-

work of beams I'd been inspecting. He was dressed in

nothing but the heavy leather of a fighter, knee-high

boots, narrow groin-cover, wide brown chest plate,

bracers from wrist to elbow, and a brow-band. Around

his waist was a swordbelt, and at his side hung a

legendary multi-blade, the weapon allowed only to the

best of the best. Glads started out with uniswords,

worked at mastering them, then, if they lived, moved

on to trithrusters. You had to be a double-gold winner

at the very least in order to merit a multi-blade, and

Serendel was supposed to be the best of the three-

circlet winners. He put his fingertips to his swordbelt as

he looked down at me, and faint amusement filled his

cold gray eyes.

"I think I understand now why you blundered into

me yesterday," he said, his wide-legged stance an

arrogant challenge even when his words were nothing

but mild. "If you do that on any sort of a regular

basis, it's a miracle you can ever walk straight."

"Since you were the one who ran into me, I wonder

what your excuse is," I retorted, staying down just for

the hell of it. Some people claim that simply watching

others do the stretch is painful, and if Serendel was

one of those, he deserved every twitch. "Maybe you

ought to trade in your equipment for a sonic tapping cane."

"If I were blind, I wouldn't have been in so much

of a hurry that I couldn't have kept you from tripping

under my feet," he returned, that long red mustache

rising slightly with the increase of his amusement.

"And if you've come to watch the show, little girl,

remember what I said about staying back away from

me. Someone with balance as bad as yours needs all

the distance from danger she can get."

He turned and walked away then, coming up on the

crowd from a direction they obviously hadn't been

expecting him to appear, and I was so mad I sat up again

without taking it slow. Someone with balance as bad

as mine? From a man who couldn't be trusted not to

stampede in the middle of a group of innocent people?

He had a hell of a lot of nerve making cracks about

me, especially in view of the way everyone stepped

back out of his path, opening a broad aisle for him to

stomp up. That was the sort of thing he was used to,

people scrambling to get out of his way, and too bad

about anyone who didn't.

I sat there on the mat with my fists to my thighs,

fuming mad, watching as the crowd closed up behind

him before surging forward a very little bit. They

couldn't wait for the big show to start, the sort of

exhibition of skill a top fighter put on even when he

was only warming up or practicing. It was too bad

nothing was likely to interrupt that exhibition, making

him look like the stumbling incompetent he was.

"You'd better stay back away from me," I mimicked

in a mutter, hot enough to boil over. "Remember

what I said about that."

What he'd said was twenty feet, but if he'd asked

my opinion, I wouldn't have settled for less than a

hundred. Twenty feet was a good deal closer than I

ever wanted to be to him, unless it was to watch him

hang by the neck from a rope—

The thought broke off as another one came to me,

an idea that brought a sudden grin to my face. So he

wanted me to stay twenty feet away from him, did he?

I raised my head slowly to look up at the network of

metal beams above me, thought about it for at least

ten seconds, then smoothly rose to my feet.

The crowd had already started their oohing and ahhing

and applauding as I turned to look for a climbing

rope, showing that the big hero had undoubtedly begun

warming up. I knew I'd promised to join Lidra

and Chal as soon as that happened, but maybe they'd

be satisfied if all I did was spot them and wave. They

wouldn't be able to claim I hadn't watched the work-

out the way I'd said I would, because my seat was

going to be the best one in the house.

The climbing ropes were anchored into the ceiling,

so all I had to do was choose the one that fell closest

to the metal framework and unhook the bottom of it

from the wall. It was a heavy rope that looked sturdy

enough, but I still hung my full weight from it for a

minute while I was close enough to the ground that a

fall wouldn't matter. Seero had taught me to distrust

everyone's rigging but my own, and not to expect

miracles even then. Things can happen even to an

unbreakable line, and if you don't really believe that,

you'll never find it possible to be prepared.

The climbing rope seemed as solidly anchored as

possible, so I began pulling myself up it, hand over

hand. It didn't take long to reach the framework the

rope hung beside, and swinging over to it with my legs

was also no problem. The metal beam was a narrow

one, no more than a couple of inches wide, but I'd

walked smaller and with a lot less light. I stood with

the help of a ceiling-set corner brace, glad that the

framework was as steady with me on it as it looked

from below, then started moving toward the brace on

the other side. The metal was hard under my feet and

a little too smooth, but I still made it all the way

without slipping.

When I reached the second brace I took a minute to

look down, which confirmed the fact that no one had

spotted me yet. Everyone's eyes were locked to Serendel,

watching with fanatic pleasure as he swung his

multi-sword on its lowest setting, moving through a

glad drill that was meant to warm him up. The drill

demanded grace rather than strength, finesse rather

than attack, and watching him, it was almost possible

to believe he'd negated most of his own weight as well

as his sword's. Most big men weren't that quick—

which is not the same as being fast—and I thought I

could see why so many people expected so many great

things from him.

But none of that changed my own intentions. The

man wanted me at least twenty feet away from him,

so that's what he would get. Past the brace I held to

was a triple line of metal framework, three times the

width of what I'd walked and more than wide enough

for what I planned. I swung around the brace to its

other side, got both feet onto the triple beam and then,

with my arms only a small distance from my sides,

walked to the spot I'd been aiming for all along. It

was about two-thirds of the way along the beam, and

when I got there I bent carefully, then stretched myself

out along the metal.

Grandstanding on a beam that high off the ground

isn't very smart, but as I pretended to make myself

comfortable on my right side, I knew that right then I

preferred feeling satisfied to feeling intelligent. The

fighter was about ten feet ahead of my position and

twenty feet down, which, if I remembered my school

math correctly, meant I was a little better than twenty-

two feet away from him. Since I'd done just what he'd

asked me to, he couldn't very well complain, could he?

Everyone applauded when Serendel finished his

worn-ups, and then gasped in delight when the fighter

whirled his sword over his head to reset its weight.

the jewels in its finger-guard blazed with a light that

was almost life, and everyone watching undoubtedly

wondered exactly how much weight the sword was

now being allowed to manifest. During multi-blade

combats the glads themselves usually had that question,

wondering just how much it would take to stop

the strike coming at them. It wasn't unknown for a

fighter to defend against an attack that seemed to have

everything behind it, only to find that the multi-sword

striking his was set at minimum and therefore was

immediately bouncing off. What usually happened after

that was seeing his opponent ride the bounce away in

an arc that brought the sword back faster than he could

defend against, most often with maximum weight

returned to it, and that ended the bout in a bloody and

very final way. Knowing when to change the weight

of the sword, how much to change it, and performing

the changeovers smoothly were skills the fighters

worked very hard to master; those who made it survived

and prospered, while those who didn't had their

names added to the lists of the fallen.

I was leaning on my right elbow and supporting my

head with the hand, watching with supposed full

attention while I kept my balance with my left hand on

the beam, when someone finally spotted me. One of

the people on the far side of the crowd happened to

glance up, did a double take, then started nudging others

around him as he pointed. Even more eyes began

coming to me then, the nudging and pointing spreading

left and right away from its starting point, and

before very long it had migrated around the circle to

those who stood with their backs to me. When more

and more people began turning around, looking up and

gasping, it finally came to the star of the exhibition

that he was losing his audience. He finished a run-

through of a series of attacks and counters, frowned

when he saw how many people had their backs to him,

then finally looked up.

"By the five-pointed crown of Lethen Highwinner!"

the fighter blurted, letting his point fall almost

to the deck plates as he saw me. "What in hell are

you doing up there?"

"I'm watching the show," I called back, making

sure I didn't let the speaking shift me off balance.

"You did tell me to stay at least twenty feet away from

you, and this was the only way I could do it and still

get to see something. That isn't all you're going to be

doing, is it?"

"Get the hell down from there before you fall and

break your neck!" the magnificent Serendel ordered in

a growl, resheathing his sword before putting his fists

to his hips. "How in the name of sanity did you get

up there in the first place?"

"I used a climbing rope," I answered, innocently,

moving my head in the general direction of where the

rope still hung. "If heights bother you, you don't have

to look at me, you know. Just turn your back and

pretend I'm somewhere underfoot, and then you'll be able

to get on with your practice."

The man's head came up in annoyance as most of

the crowd chuckled, his appreciation of my comment

a lot less than theirs. They were interested and amused

because they thought I was challenging the fighter, the

way any number of misguided fools did with glads on

a more or less regular basis. What only the fighter

himself realized was that I was answering a challenge,

not offering one, and he didn't seem to care for it much.

"You're not interested in coming down right now?"

he asked once the laughter had quieted, his tone suddenly

as smooth as the glint in his eyes. "Well, in

that case there's something that should be taken care

of, and since you're way up there, I'll see to it for you."

I didn't understand what he was talking about any

more than the other people in the room, but they got

out of his way fast enough when he stepped over the

rope around his practice area and began striding across

the floor. I sat up on the beam, shifted my feet under

me before standing carefully, then turned to walk back

me way I'd come. I had a very strong hunch I needed

to be back to where I'd started from as fast as humanly

possible, and when I reached the end brace I saw I'd

been right but was already too late. The miserable fiend

had reached the climbing rope before I got to the brace,

and even as I watched he finished hooking it tight to

the wall in its original position. Pulled that far out of

line I couldn't reach it from the framework of beams,

something my adversary had known would happen

even before he'd done it.

"There we are, now everything's neat and tidy,"

he said as he turned from the wall, looking up to send

me the faintest of grins. "Leaving a rope just hanging

down like that can cause someone to get hurt, and I

really hate seeing people get hurt. You be sure and let

me know as soon as you're ready to come down, and

we'll see about untying that rope again."

This time the laughter was in support of him, half a

dozen people going so far as to applaud as well. The

upstart's challenge to their hero had been answered

with style, and the foolish female would be stuck up

on the beams for as long as he wanted her there. They

also seemed to be hoping he would make her ask him

nicely before he let her down, and I really did feel

sorry that their hopes would end up being dashed. The

foolish female would have stayed in the metalwork

until she died of thirst and hunger before asking their

hero for anything, but happily for her, staying and

dying weren't going to be necessary.

Serendel had already turned and started back to his

practice area when I swung around the brace, then

began walking the single beam back toward the center

of it. I couldn't afford to spare attention for anything

but what I was doing and planned to do, but I heard

the muttering and gasps of the crowd telling me they

were still watching. The highest point I'd ever

formally dismounted from was fifteen feet, but I knew

there had been an informal time or two when I'd

bettered that. I hadn't had the opportunity to measure back

then, but if twenty feet was more than I could handle,

I'd certainly find out soon enough.

By the time I reached the center of the beam, I had

driven all doubt away, setting myself firmly into the

proper confidence and concentration for dismounting.

I had all the room and time I needed, all the balance

and ability, so I turned head on in the center of the

beam, kicked off it backward, caught it with my hands

as I dropped, then sent myself swinging below and

past it into the empty, open air.

I don't think dismounting will ever stop making me

feel as though I can fly. Flipping over in the air slows

your rate of descent and gives you control of the drop,

but while you're doing it you feel as though you don't

have to land, you're simply doing it because you've

decided to. I turned twice in the air and twisted, and

then I was down on the mat I'd been stretching on,

my landing crouch a little deeper than proper form

approves of, but doing nothing to keep me from staying

erect. Once I was sure I would continue that way,

I turned my head toward my trusty opponent.

"I think I'd like to come down now," I said, working

to sound as helpless as possible. "Would you

please see about untying the rope?"

Serendel was frozen in place less than ten feet way,

everyone else silent and gawking behind him, and then

the cheering and applause erupted, making it sound

like there were a thousand people in the room. I wasn't

used to being cheered and applauded—audiences tend

to be minimal or absent entirely when I perform—and

I was so distracted by the unexpected enthusiasm that

Serendel was standing right in front of me before I

even knew he'd moved.

"I have to ask you to forgive me for the boorish

way I've been insulting you," he said, looking down

at me with an odd expression in those cold gray eyes.

"I can see now our collision couldn't have been any-

one's fault but mine, which means I must offer a

belated apology. From now on, please feel free to come

as close to me as you like."

If I'd been distracted a minute earlier by the cheering

and applause, his apologizing sent me into virtual

shock. Never in a million years had I expected him to

say something like that, which is most likely the

reason he had my hand before I so much as realized he'd

taken it. I felt the touch of shock again, only stronger,

when be actually bent over it and kissed it, and it was

all I could do to keep from staring after him like a

gaping idiot when he turned to go back to his practice

area. Never in my life had I seen anything like that,

not to mention having it done to me—and it took a

minute to realize that Lidra and Chal hadn't followed

the crowd back to where it had come from.

"So that's what it takes to get his attention," Lidra

said, her amusement still very much with her. "The

equivalent of diving off a rooftop. Okay, no problem.

Next time it'll be my turn to be kissed."

"Before or after you get out of traction?" Chal

asked with a chuckle, looking at me with very bright

eyes. "Inky here was obviously born to fly, but we

lesser mortals have to make do with being chained to

the ground. And in case you were wondering. Inky,

our competition date is off. If that's the kind of shape

eating greasy hot-fries and meat-rounds puts you in, I

don't even want to know what decent food would do.

The Empire isn't yet ready for the perfect woman."

"Why, Chal, I thought you said I was the perfect

woman," Lidra protested with pretend insult, her pout

just about as believable as her claim, her hand coming

up to take his arm. "If the Empire isn't yet ready

for me, whatever will I do with my time?"

"We'll figure something out," the man reassured

her with a grin, patting the hand that held to his arm.

"But until we do, we still have an exercise session to

watch. Are you ready. Inky? With the sort of personal

invitation you were given, you won't need Lidra's

repellent field to get you right up to the front line."

"Why don't you two go ahead without me," I suggested,

for some reason very embarrassed by what had

happened. "I don't find much interest in watching

other people exercise, and it would be rude if he caught

me yawning in boredom. He apologized for that

misunderstanding yesterday, you know."

"For the—'misunderstanding,' " Lidra said dryly,

apparently trying to hide some sort of new amusement.

"Yes, we know, we saw him do it. Don't you just

love the way fighters apologize? It makes you want to

start an argument, just to give him another chance to

do it. If you're sure you don't want to come with us,

meet us later in the dining hall for lunch. We can tell

you how it went over a nutritious meal of hot-fries and

meat-rounds."

I smiled and nodded while Chal laughed, and then

we separated to go our individual ways. I left the gym

and got back to my cabin as quickly as possible, then

sat down in a chair to look at the hand that had been

kissed. It was such an odd feeling to have been treated

like that, to have been made to feel that I'd been raised

in palaces rather than on the dusk side of respectability.

I'd never regret the way I'd been raised or what

Seero had taught me, but somehow I wished we had

lived more often among those who inhabited palaces,

so that I would have learned what to do when a man

kissed my hand. There had to be something to do besides

standing there staring like a moron, but I suppose

it takes time and experience to learn what,

I folded my legs under me and leaned back in the

chair, regretting the fact that we'd be getting to Joelare

in less than another two ship's days. If the time were

going to be longer I would have seriously considered

Serendel's offer, but with no more than a day and a

half to work with, all I could do was forget it. My

co-workers and I had things to do on Joelare, and after

that I had things of my own to occupy me on Gryphon.

That meant I would be wisest avoiding all contact with

Serendel for the rest of the trip, to keep from starting

something I might not want to see end.

I sighed as I closed my eyes, called up a picture of

the man in his fighting leathers to look at, and spent

some time wondering if I would ever see him again.

Chapter 6

The rest of our time on the liner went by as quickly

as I'd known it would, and my only major chore turned

out to be putting up with Lidra's teasing. She under-

stood well enough why I'd decided against getting

involved with Serendel; it would be more than awkward

if the fighter decided to pay my way to wherever he

was going, just to give us more time together. Fighters

did that sort of thing on a regular basis with women

they found attractive, and what kind of excuse could I

use as a reason for refusing? Previous reservations?

He'd be sure to insist on paying me back for them.

Lack of interest? Then why did I get involved with

him in the first place? No, the only option I had was

to stay away from the man, that or tell him what we'd

be up to on Joelare.

Since Lidra understood the point at least as well as

I did, she didn't let herself be more than disappointed

that she and Chal would not be introduced to the fighter

the way they'd been looking forward to. What she did

do, though, was give me a detailed description of all

Serendel's public movements, including the fact that

there were times he seemed to be surreptitiously

searching the crowds around him. This, to Lidra, was

Highly Significant, an action she didn't hesitate to interpret.

"He's obviously looking for you," she proclaimed

once, delighted to be privy to limited, inside information.

"Every time I see the poor thing doing it, my

heart goes out to him."

"I'll bet that's not all you'd like to have going out

to him," I couldn't help saying, her pious pity quickly

getting to be more than annoying. "And chances are

what he's really looking for is that elegant female he

appropriated the first day out of his cabin."

"Why would he be looking for her?" the very innocent

question came, changing Chal's grin to chuckling.

"She showed up at that first practice right after

you left, carved entirely out of smug self-satisfaction

and obviously thinking she was making an entrance.

When no one even glanced at her she started getting

annoyed, but when she tried to get through the crowd

and no one would let her by, she went furious. I didn't

have a directional pick-up handy, so I couldn't hear

what she said, but she must have convinced the people

around her that she was entitled to be in front because

she was sleeping with the guy. They must have believed

her because they finally let her through."

"But not very willingly," Chal added, laughing

softly at the memory. "I don't think they would have

minded if it had been you trying to get past them, and

some of them actually seemed to resent her. After that

she gave up on the entrances, and strutted into places

on Serendel's arm."

"Why do you people feel you have the right to approve

or disapprove of your hero's personal life?" I

asked, suddenly resentful of the supporter mentality.

"He didn't ask any of you to support him, so what

gives you the right to tell him who he should or

shouldn't be sleeping with? Unless one of you is

scheduled to be his bed stand-in, it's really none of

your business."

"But of course it is," Chal answered at once, beating

Lidra to it, neither of them the least bit insulted.

"His being as good as he is forced us to be his supporters,

and now that he belongs to us we want nothing

but the best for him. He's entitled to it, you see, and

if he doesn't find it for himself, we don't mind helping

out. It's the least we can do in appreciation of what

he does for us."

"And since we female fans can't have him for

ourselves, we're damned well going to see him with

someone we can stomach," Lidra said, one hand

smoothing her purple-streaked hair. "That slinker he

picked up is okay as a bed-bunny in the absence of

anyone better, but there's nothing she can do that the

rest of us couldn't, so why should she have special

privileges? What you did, on the other hand, was

special, which is the reason most of us would rather see

him with you. We know we can't compete with an

accomplishment like that, so we can accept your being

with him in place of one of us. That's not to say we

like it, but we can accept it."

At that point I sat back in my lounge chair and

sipped at my javi, far from satisfied but deciding not

to pursue the point any further. The whole thing felt

too much like the sort of prearranged lifestyles some

elements of the Empire still insisted on, the kind that

sewed you into what other people thought was best for

you. I'd been outraged the first time I'd heard about

the practice and had known that those people were

lucky they'd never tried their nonsense on me. Telling

them what to do with themselves would have been the

least of my reactions, and somehow this approval of

me for Serendel felt almost like the same attitude.

Lidra, Chal and I had been taking our meals in various

lounges rather than in the dining hall despite the fact

that it cost more that way, preferring the cash outlay

to the possibility of running into Serendel. At first I'd

been disappointed that it had to be done like that, but

after our conversation concerning approval, I was more

relieved than disappointed.

When the shuttle took us down to Aeon, Joelare's

newest port, Lidra and Chal finally found something

other than their hero to talk about. We left the vehicle

with at least twenty other people, gasping out our awed

delight with the port's decor, admiring the fairyland

castle which was their entry-admin building for those

booked into the Mists of the Ages. People who were

coming to Joelare for reasons other than tourism had

to make do with an ordinary customs building of metal

and glasstic, but we who were the chosen were

escorted into the Castle of Beginning.

"... where all you lucky people will be given

orientation information about your individual tours,"

our chief guide burbled as she walked ahead of us,

smiling and gesturing at our destination. Assistant

guides or aides were also among us, carrying any hand

luggage we were willing to part with, cautioning us to

watch our steps, and taking food and drink orders from

anyone who felt themselves in dire need.

"Costumes like mine and other tour area variations

will be available for you as soon as we have your

measurements," she went on in great enjoyment, pausing

to turn once in front of us to let us see the many-

layered gown of gold she was wearing. The skirts were

so wide she probably needed double doors to get into

a room, the front of the dress dipped so low her upper

measurements could have been taken by eye, and the

three-quarter sleeves on the thing trailed so much white

lace it was surprising she was able to lift her arms.

"What if gold isn't our best color?" a mild but very

deep voice asked, the voice of one of the men with us.

We all laughed at the way he'd avoided asking the

most obvious question, and even our guide enjoyed the

effort.

"I was about to add that masculine equivalents of

this gown will be available for viewing on the castle

servants," she answered with a laugh as she resumed

walking, the first real laugh we'd heard out of her. "If

you'd rather, though, we can have the gowns made up

in any color you like. As our guest, the choice will be

entirely yours,"

The man acknowledged her comment with a deep-

voiced chuckle of appreciation shared by most of the

rest of us, but some of us weren't very happy with the

entire idea. We weren't even near the Mists yet, but

some of us were already impatient to be leaving.

"Oh, Inky, stop looking so sour," Lidra said to me

with no effort at keeping her voice down, her

exasperation with my attitude clear to anyone who heard her.

"Dressing up in costumes will be fun, as long as you

make yourself forget you couldn't cancel your

reservations without losing your deposit money. It isn't

their fault your friend got sick at the last minute, so

what's the sense in deciding beforehand that you aren't

going to enjoy yourself no matter what? As long as

you're paying for it, you might as well enjoy it."

"I may have to pay for it. but I sure as hell don't

have to enjoy it," I countered, also making no effort

to keep my voice down. "If I've got to be here I'll

decide what I will and won't wear, not some overpaid

flunky with an under-active imagination."

Lidra sighed and simply shook her head, but that

didn't mean she wasn't satisfied with the way the

conversation had gone. We'd decided back on the liner

that a reluctant guest would be the best thing for me

to be, especially if everyone was made fully aware of

my attitude. There would be times I'd need to be away

from the tour group or dressed in a way that would let

me work, and being tagged uncooperative right from

the start would get us past the need for later excuses.

Chal had helped us build a logically consistent story,

and I was a lot happier with it than I would have been

with pretend enthusiasm.

"You don't need to watch your steps on the draw-

bridge, the entire area is shielded," our guide said,

moving first onto a wide ramp of golden vapor. "Once

you enter the Mists there will be areas you mustn't

move through except with your journey scouts, but

you'll be warned about them well in advance, and the

warnings will be repeated on a regular basis until after

the area is behind you. You will, of course, be told

more about that later. Right now, please follow me."

The first people to follow the woman felt a need to

test the solidity of the vapor with one foot before

trusting the rest of themselves to it, but after them no one

else bothered. The golden vapor was as solid under-

foot as you would expect a force field to be, and we

climbed the ramp without difficulty through a golden

arch that led us to a wide entrance hall of marble and

rainbows. The hall was roofed over with something

transparent that took the outer day's sunshine and

divided it into its prismatic parts, and I had to be careful

not to gasp with everyone else. The hall was

absolutely beautiful, and there wasn't anyone there who

didn't appreciate it.

"Just show your reservation slips to the attendants

moving among you, and they'll direct you to the proper

Customs section," our guide told us after a moment,

having given us a chance to stare at the loveliness.

"You'll relax in comfort while our Customs people

clear you, and then you'll be allowed the choice of

starting for the Mists as soon as your wardrobes are

ready, or spending the night here in the castle and

starting in the morning. Those of you on A and AA

class tours won't be supplied with wardrobes, and will

therefore be able to leave as soon as you've gone

through Customs. We know none of you will want to

waste even one extra minute reaching the Mists, and

we can't blame you. We hope you all enjoy your stay

at Mists of the Ages, and look forward to welcoming

you back many times in the future."

The woman gave us a final smile and then went to

stand at the far side of the room, all finished with her

part of the job unless someone had a question they

wanted to ask. The attendants who moved among us

were both male and female, the men wearing knee-

pants and hose and more-or-less elegant coats and

such, the women wearing long-skirted gowns that for

the most part were nearly the equal of our former

guide's dress. Eight closed doorways were spaced

around the otherwise empty hall, and each of the door-

ways had one additional attendant standing in front of

it. From what I could see, the door attendants were

dressed somewhat differently from those who

circulated among us, and then one of the latter was up to

Chal, Lidra and me, checking our slips with a glance.

"Portal number three, counting from the left, is your

destination, my lord and ladies," the man said with a

bow, sweeping his arm in the proper direction. "If you

should be interested in the period my costume

represents, just ask about the tour through sectors six,

eleven and twenty-one."

He bowed again before moving on, and Lidra and I

turned briefly to watch him go. His costume had been

mostly tights with the addition of a large, intricately

decorated codpiece, and the tights were as tight behind

as they had been in front. I'm not quite sure what our

expressions were like, but Chal put a hand on each of

our shoulders from behind.

"Don't even think about it," he said in a low voice,

but not so low that we couldn't hear the flat finality in

it. "After we finish our fun time here you girls can go

wherever you like, but don't even think about suggesting

we go through his sector on the way. Anybody

who tries to get me into a get-up like that will have a

fight on his hands."

"Why, Chal!" Lidra said with surprise, turning to

look at him. "That's the second time you've talked

about committing violence. I thought you were dedicated

to healing the hurt, not causing them the problem

in the first place."

"When you're willing to fight, you usually don't

have to," he answered with calm confidence, the look

in his eyes the same. "And just because my greatest

joy comes from curing the sick and hurt, that doesn't

mean I have to stand helplessly by while people take

advantage of me and those around me. I don't usually

go out looking for people to mangle, but if you two

don't get that calculation out of your eyes, I'll be

happy to make your cases an exception."

"We surrender," Lidra said with both hands raised

before her while I laughed. "You're bigger and

stronger and nastier than we are, so there won't be any

side trips. I just think it's such a pity. Women who

haven't seen your behind don't know what they're

missing."

Her glance was very bland when she slid it away

from him, and most likely the only thing that saved

her was the fact that she immediately began walking

toward the "portal" which had been pointed out to us.

It was possible that Chal would have strangled her if

she'd stayed within reach, and the embarrassed flush

on his face as he and I followed her said it might still

happen as soon as they were alone together.

When we reached door three it was opened for us

by the attendant standing in front of it, a man wearing

a leather skirt that came down to his knees and leather

sandals that laced all the way up his legs. For the most

part his chest was bare, except for two straps of leather

that crossed it, then spread out very wide over his

shoulders. Both shoulders were completely covered

and the leather extended a least two inches beyond

them, an odd sort of arrangement I'd never seen be-

fore.

"Now that's something I can live with," Chal remarked

as we entered the room, gesturing back toward

the attendant with his head. "Especially if you girls

get costumes just like it."

That time it was Chal's turn to grin while Lidra gave

him a stare that promised a lingering death, which

made me the only one left to look around. The room

we'd entered was open and airy while still giving the

impression of privacy, but above that it was very

interestingly furnished. The carpeting under our feet

appeared to be open, blue-green water, the sort you sail

on and swim in, but rarely walk on. Chairs and

couches were white, fluffy clouds, billowing a little

where they hung, and large fluttering birds hovered in

the air beside the couches and chairs. Two servants in

costumes made up of gauze and wings stood on two

of four tiny islands spaced around the room, while two

more servants dressed the same way were offering trays

of food and drink to the four older people already in

the room and seated on the clouds.

"Well, will you look at that," Lidra said from behind

my right shoulder, Chal to her right. "It does pay

not to be on a class A or AA tour, doesn't it? If they're

not willing to give them costumes or a bed for the

night, they certainly won't be giving them something

like this."

"I've got to try one of those clouds," Chal said,

for all the world like an eager tourist. "I've always

wanted to stretch out on one, but I'm too practical not

to know I'd fall through. If I fall through here, I can

sue."

"If you don't drown first." Lidra said, looking

down at what our feet rested on. "Are those fish I see

swimming down there? Maybe we would be better off

sitting down. The idea of being submerged is not one

I care for at the moment."

She headed for one of the cloud-couches without

adding anything to what she'd said, but Chal and I

still got the message. Lidra had never told me exactly

how much of her electronic equipment she carried with

her, but from her reaction to the ocean-carpeting, most

of it must have been of the non-waterproof sort. I

thought briefly about swimming while wrapped up in

a working electrified fence, shuddered a little, then

followed along to the couch.

The cloud felt just the way a cloud should feel, soft

and billowing but still firm enough to support us. We

had barely made ourselves comfortable when one of

the winged servants came over for our food and drink

orders, telling us we could name just about anything

and it would be supplied—for a price. Standard for our

tour at that particular moment was a beverage and

sandwiches, but we would be given an assortment of

the sandwiches and could eat as many as we liked.

One of the other tours included a free choice of edibles

and drinkables at no extra charge, and before the

servant left to get our food and javi we were told which

one it was. Lidra waited until the servant was out of

easy hearing range, and then she shook her head.

"They do believe in advertising in this place, don't

they?" she asked, one hand brushing at her purple-

streaked hair. "I wonder what they try to sell you if

you've booked the best they've got?"

"Possibly a life membership," Chal suggested, too

pleased with his section of cloud to really care. "I

think those people over there ordered more than the

sandwiches. If our standard dinner isn't a good deal

above snack level, we ought to consider spending the

extra money ourselves."

Lidra made a noncommittal noise and I shrugged,

but I was seriously considering going along with Chal's

suggestion. The man had been annoyed with me for

teasing him when he found out I usually did eat well-

balanced meals rather than junk, but I'd been arguing

a principle rather than a belief. If I wanted to eat junk

food I should be free to do it, whether or not I actually

indulged in the freedom. Chal had refused to see that,

insisting I was only trying to be difficult, but I still

intended joining him in any superior meals that were

offered. After all, with S.I. paying for it, there was no

reason I shouldn't.

By the time our food and drink had been brought,

there were two new arrivals over with the older people.

The two men were dressed in svalk pants, hose,

ruffled shirts and patterned svalk vests, and they chatted

comfortably with the newly arrived guests as they

checked and stamped their papers. Customs inspection

is something you go through no matter which world

of the Empire you visit, but some are a little less fanatic

about it than others. Joelare officials seemed to

be downright human, which was a pleasant surprise.

Our cups had been refilled two or three times

before it became our turn, and the two men called for

cups of their own before they settled down near us.

They studied our papers so thoroughly they couldn't

have missed anything that was there to be found, and

then one of the two men looked up at us with a smile.

"I see you three young people each came here on

your own," he said, looking very satisfied with that

idea. "Did you meet on the liner the way those two

couples over there did? Yes. I thought you might have.

People do that all the time, coming here as strangers

and leaving as friends. Right now you'll probably think

I'm boasting, but our world does bring people together

and make fast friends of them. It's sharing the experiences

you have ahead of you that does it, and even

if you never come back you won't forget the time.

Very few worlds can say the same, and that makes us

rather proud."

"And also pleased to welcome you here," the second

man said, adding his own smile. "You list nothing

but clothing and a few convenience devices on

your declaration statements, but for safety's sake there

are specific questions we need to ask. Are any of you

taking a prescribed medication of any sort? We've

found there are certain substances that don't react well

with the vapor of the Mists, and we can tell you

whether or not a given prescription is one of them. It

isn't necessary to ask about illegal substances, and for

good reason. Anyone taking one or more of the current

crop of dustings and fixings will find they don't get

along with the Mists at all. If throwing up every ten

minutes for your entire tour appeals to you, we

wouldn't think of asking you to forgo the pleasure."

Lidra, Chal and I exchanged glances while the two

men grinned at us, that more than anything else assuring

us they were telling the truth. If they hadn't been,

they would have been working to get us to believe

them, not telling us to go ahead and try it for ourselves.

It was an interesting way of doing things, but

I found myself faintly curious.

"I'm not taking anything of any sort, but I have a

question for you," I said, keeping my tone mild but

not looking in any way impressed. "Did you make the

same point to our older companions over there, or do

you save the speech for the Empire's flowering youth?"

"Oh, we make sure to announce it to people like

them first," the second man told me, neither one of

them looking the least insulted. "Kids know they're

doing something wrong, so all but the really lost

among them will try for caution if not moderation.

Many so-called grownups, though, know the laws

aren't made for them, so why should they bother with

caution beyond surface appearances? Some are so

deeply into it they become violently ill in the Mists,

and end up in a hospital for the rest of their vacation.

It's one of the reasons for these ironclad releases you'll

be signing. When you look through them, you'll find

other reasons."

My two companions and I were then handed small

leather books, and each of us got the book with our

name on it. Inside were a number of pages with questions

and statements, and if a question didn't call for

a specific answer, the directions ordered us to sign our

full names instead. We were also handed indelible

markers, and then the first of the men signaled for

more javi.

By the time I was ready to hand the book back, I'd

shared all of my personal preferences, most of the

things I'd tried doing during my life, some of the

things I thought I could do in the future, and no longer

remembered how to spell my name. The thing was a

good deal more than just a release in the event of an

accident, and once the two men had glanced through

what we'd written, one of them told Chal he had nothing

to worry about, then the two of them thanked us

with smiles and went on their way.

"Phew!" Lidra said as she let herself fall back

against our cloud, holding her right hand up in a claw.

"Did anyone notice if that thing held them blameless

in the event of an acute case of writer's cramp? If it

didn't, I'm seriously considering calling my lawyer."

"What aren't you supposed to worry about, Chal?"

I asked, turning my head to see the way he massaged

his right hand with his left. I'd already flexed my fingers

back to normal, but still half-wished Lidra wasn't

just fooling around about suing.

"I listed the medication I'm taking, and apparently

I don't have to worry about it getting into a fight with

the Mists," Chal answered, his light eyes very open

and innocent, no more than a friendly smile on his

face. "It's really nothing more than a general health

enhancer with a complex base, my doctor tells me, but

there was no sense in taking chances by keeping quiet

about it."

I nodded vaguely and performed a small shrug. Just

as though I were dismissing the whole thing after

understanding almost nothing of what he'd said, but to

describe me as curious would be like describing the

room we sat in as faintly unusual. I hadn't known Lidra

and Chal long, but the one thing I was absolutely

certain of was that neither of them took any sort of

medication, necessary or unnecessary, legal or illegal.

Lidra was like me in that she could never remember

to take something even when she was sick, and Chal

believed almost fanatically that to become dependent

on a drug in anything but the most extreme emergency

was as good as cutting your own throat. For him,

the key to true survival health was to strengthen the

body's own defenses, not ignore them in favor of

artificial supplements. With that in mind I knew Chal

wasn't taking anything, so why had he said he was?

I would have enjoyed being able to ask someone

other than myself, but even though I'd never done that

sort of S.I. sneaking around before, I wasn't simple-

minded. Since we didn't know whether or not we were

being listened to by people out of sight, we had to

assume we were being listened to and therefore had to

watch what we said. That, at least, was the way I saw

it, and my companions seemed to be operating under

the same set of rules. I shifted around on the cloud.

about to wonder aloud what would be coming next,

but the appearance of a woman in the same sort of

golden gown as our original greeter and guide saved

me the trouble.

"My lords and ladies, I bid you all a good day,"

the woman announced with a practiced smile, apparently

unaware of the fact that she sounded as though

she were leaving rather than arriving. "I'd like to take

my own turn at welcoming you to the Mists of the

Ages, the vacation land you'll never forget. I'm Filla,

and after you answer a few questions for me, I'll be

glad to answer any you might have. To begin with,

have you all decided whether or not you'll be staying

in the castle tonight? If you haven't, please take a

moment or two to make the decision now."

"What do you think, girls?" Chal asked as quiet

conversation arose among our four fellow tourists

where they sat. "I'd rather stay with you two than take

off on my own, so which way do you want to do it?"

"I'd rather leave now and get it over with that much

faster," I answered, still sticking with my impatient-

and-unhappy pose. "Hanging around here will just

drag it out longer, but I don't want to go on alone

either. If you two decide to stay, so will I."

"Come on, Inky, being in a hurry is dumb," Lidra

said with a shake of her head, adding a sigh for good

measure. "We'll be spending a total of three days here,

and staying over until tomorrow morning doesn't mean

the three days begin then, because they've already be-

gun. Starting tomorrow morning only means we spend

less time in the Mists. Didn't you read the brochure?"

"No," I answered a second time, trying not to show

how stupid I felt for not knowing that. "My friend

was the one who talked me into all this, and I'd never

even heard of the place. Does that mean you want to

stay over?"

"Hell no," she came back with a grin, sitting up

straighter on her piece of cloud. "Since we came to

see the Mists, why waste time sitting around in this

place? Let's get going as soon as we can."

"Then that's our decision," Chal said, getting to

his feet. "I'll go over and tell her."

As he walked away I could see the other four people

were still talking it over, but our decision wasn't just

made, it was also justified. We weren't likely to find

out anything to investigate out in the open and

at the port, so Lidra had come up with a reason

why we didn't want to stay there. My own try at

it had been on the flimsy side, but at least I

had a reason for asking about the place. And a

reason for not knowing about most of what was going on.

Lidra and Chal were supposed to have filled me in

on the liner ride, and probably would have if most of

their time and conversation hadn't been taken up by

their favorite fighter. I felt a brief flash of annoyance,

but getting mad at the two would have been useless.

If those S.I. people had briefed me property I wouldn't

have needed anyone else doing it, but they'd been in

too much of a hurry to get rid of me to come up with

so much as a brochure. If I'd had any intentions of

continuing to work with them, that alone would have

made me stop to think about it.

By the time Chal finished talking to the woman, one

of the men from the other group was on his way over

to her with their own decision. The woman thanked

them both with a smile, then turned to include the rest

of us in on the conversation.

"My lords and ladies, the group of four will remain

our guests for the night," she said, sounding as though

everything had worked out exactly the way it was sup-

posed to. "If the smaller group will follow me, I'll

get them started toward the costuming area. As soon

as that's done, I'll be back to take accommodation and

dinner orders from those who will be staying. Ladies?"

The last word was addressed to Lidra and me, and

I didn't know about her, but I found it—inappropriate.

I had always considered a lady to be someone who did

nothing but stand or sit around looking cool, aloof,

and untouchable, totally useless and helpless and very

pleased to have it like that. Seero had tried more than

once to tell me I was wrong, but that was a point we

had never agreed on. He'd said it was possible for a

woman to be a lady no matter what she looked like or

did, but that was silly. How could you be a lady if

you didn't look or act like one?

The woman in the golden gown led us to one section

of a light blue wall, which slid out of her way when

she stopped in front of it. Beyond the now-opened

doorway was a thirty-foot corridor of rich brown wood,

and the woman pointed toward the narrow wall at the

other end of the corridor.

"Just walk straight at it, and it will open for you,"

she said, giving us another professionally warm smile.

"The dressers there will have your costumes, and once

you're into them you'll be ready to go. Your measurements

were taken electronically when you first entered

the castle, so what was made up for you should need

no more than minor adjustment."

"What about the luggage we brought with us?" I

asked, stopping Lidra and Chal as they began to enter

the corridor. "Your costumes may be absolutely

wonderful, but if I should decide I'm not in the mood to

wear one, I don't want my only other choice to be skin."

"Your luggage has already been passed through

Customs, and will be sent with you to the places you'll

be staying in the Mists," she answered, her pleasantness

still intact. "Whether or not you wear a costume

will, of course, be your choice alone, but I certainly

hope you don't decide against them. Only those who

are costumed can be considered part of the scene, and

missing the interaction will take half the fun out of

your vacation. Without a costume all you can do is

watch, and unless there are physical reasons for that

sort of a decision, I don't recommend it. Please step

ahead now, and do enjoy your trip."

With my question answered there was nothing to

keep me standing there, and the woman did have the

decency not to turn away from us until after we reached

the other end of the corridor and the door there slid

open. As we stepped through I could also see her stepping

back, letting the wall on her end close again, the

gesture possibly meant to keep us from feeling trapped.

That had been something of a narrow corridor, and I

could see how some people might feel uncomfortable in it.

The room we stepped into from the corridor was not

only normal, it was downright dull. The plain brown

walls to right and left had nothing but closed doors to

decorate them, and the lighting came from ordinary

overheads. The man and woman who waited for us

with smiles wore bodysuits like Lidra's and mine, both

of them having added shorts and vests, and they were

briskly firm about separating Chal from us. The man

took him to the first room on the left, and the woman

led the "ladies" to the first door on the right.

"Your costumes are in the two cubicles, girls," our

newest guide said, throwing open the door to show us

a large mirrored room with curtained alcoves to the far

left and right. "The lilac set is for you with your blond

hair, dear, and the rose-red is meant to go with your

black hair, honey. Once you're into the outfits, ring

the bell between the cubicles, and I'll come in and

check the fit."

The woman gently bustled us inside, then closed the

door behind us, so Lidra and I shrugged at one an-

other and went to check out our "outfits." It was to

be expected that we each went to the other's alcove,

but once we traded I stood by the closed curtain and

studied what had been made for me. The color was a

very delicate rose-red, all right, but it was also a female

version of the costume the door attendant outside

our Customs room had been wearing. Rather than being

leather it was made of svalk, the knee-length skirt

neatly pleated, the top a sleeveless cross-over wrap,

the whole thing belted with a side-knotted scarf. The

sandals that went along with them had soft leather

bottoms and svalk upper parts and lacings, and didn't look

as though they would be all that uncomfortable. Taken

together it wasn't a bad little outfit, and it came to me

that I would have to try their costumes at least once

before I could safely 'decide' I didn't want any more

of them. It would obviously be best if I did that trying

in the beginning, where nothing of interest to us was

likely to be found, and then I would be set for later

on. The decision was a logical one, not to mention

easy, which meant I barely hesitated before starting to

get out of my bodysuit.

Once I had the sandals laced, I stood up from the

alcove's cushion stack and went out to see what I

looked like. I knew I'd probably like the way the

costume fit, so I made sure to set my expression into

something closer to resignation than enjoyment before

I looked into one of the mirror walls. It was a good

thing I'd had the foresight to do that; as I turned just

a little in front of the mirror, frowning slightly at my

reflection, on the inside I was grinning in full appreciation.

"Hey, look at you!" Lidra said as she stepped out

of her alcove, her eyes going from me to my mirror

image. "If I look half that good, I may never leave

this place. What do you think?"

She came up to me on my right and began posing in

front of the mirror, more than just passing satisfaction

in her voice. It wasn't hard seeing she looked a good

deal slimmer than she did in a bodysuit, and then I

suddenly understood what her question had really

meant. She hadn't been asking whether or not she

looked good, but whether or not her equipment was

showing. I inspected her as closely as I could without

being too obvious about it, but didn't see anything that

looked remotely like equipment. At that point I would

have loved asking where the hell she'd put it all, but

even if I'd been able to, her laugh of delight would

have come first.

"I think I've decided to burn all my bodysuits as

soon as I get home," she said, examining the back of

herself with the help of the double reflection from the

other mirror wall. "Someone once told me they make

you look thirty pounds heavier than you really are even

if you're only five pounds overweight, but until this

minute I didn't believe it. Look at these shoulder

scarves, aren't they adorable? Like the leather on that

door attendant's costume, only these don't stand out

and they're much softer."

She fluffed out the short scarves that, like mine, were

tied around the two-inch-wide shoulder straps of the

tunic top, and no one looking at her would have guessed

she was interested in anything but her appearance

as a woman. Standing next to her I could see the

way her eyes rested just a little longer on certain parts

of her reflection than on others, the expression in her

gaze very direct and almost coldly calculating, but if

I hadn't been looking for something like that, I never

would have seen it. I wondered just exactly how much

experience she did have at doing jobs like that, but

that was another question I couldn't ask aloud.

"I suppose I can live with it for a little while," I

grudged, looking again at my own costume with outer

lack of enthusiasm. "If I get tired if it, I will change

back to my own clothes, even if that keeps me from

being part of me 'scene.' Whatever that's supposed to

mean."

"I really do think we have to get you a brochure to

read," Lidra decided, still very much into admiring

her reflection. "It only gives you very broad hints

about things, but having the hints lets you understand

what's going on once you see that release we signed.

For instance, didn't you wonder when you got to the

question that asked whether or not you were a virgin?"

"It was under the physical health section," I

answered with a shrug, looking at her reflection rather

than at her. "Most of the questions in that section

were intrusive, so why would I wonder about one

more?"

"Because that particular question is significant,"

she said, looking very positive. "People have to be in

good physical health to come here because there's a

lot of walking 'and such' involved, the brochure says,

but if you answered that you weren't a virgin, the way

I did, you were asked one more question. Did you

happen to see it?"

"Yes, I saw it," I allowed, smiling inwardly at the

way she'd put her own question. "They asked if I

would mind being intimate with men who were

strangers, but who were also professionals. If I cared

to answer no to that one, they were offering a guarantee

that I wouldn't be hurt. There was also something

about the tour being more interesting if I were a

"full participant.' "

"Well, of course there was," she said, now looking

somewhat exasperated as she turned away from the

mirror. "Don't you see? They've recreated scenes

from the histories of some of the planets, but you can

bet none of the tours take you through a lazy free-day

afternoon at nap time. They'll be showing significant

happenings with lots of action, and being a full

participant has to mean we'll be right in the middle of it,

having it happen to us! We'll be full participants in

whatever they stage, and I don't mean simply being

jostled in a crowd. They'll provide sex, girl, and

probably lots of it!"

"You know, I think that word 'sex' sounds familiar,"

I said, turning to meet her stare with one finger

to my lips. "Is that when a couple of people get together

and spend most of their time yelling at each other?"

"You're an absolute riot," she said, now examining

me sourly as she folded her arms. "And no, that's not

the definition of sex, that's the definition of marriage.

Did you opt for full part or didn't you?"

"Sure I took it," I said, tossing my head a little as

I turned back to the mirror. "When this thing is over

and I still haven't enjoyed myself, I don't want them

to have any easy reasons why that they can smugly

point to. Sex is all right, but it's hardly such a big deal

that it's guaranteed to make me change my mind. And

I don't think I have to ask whether or not you chose it."

"No, you certainly don't," she answered, only her

head turning back to the mirror, her mood now thickly

self-satisfied. "You can be as stubborn as you like

about not enjoying yourself, but I intend having fun.

I've never tried a man with professional training, and

I'm really looking forward to it. I want to know if

those groups that say all men should have the same

are right."

"I wonder if they offered female professionals to the

men," I commented, this time not even glancing in

her direction. "If so, Chal might soon be deciding all

women should have training the way those groups insist."

Her annoyance was so thick I could feel it without

looking at her, but she didn't get to vocalize any of it.

A knock came at the door, immediately followed by

the entrance of the woman who had directed us to our

costumes, and that was the end of casual conversation.

The woman examined Lidra and me with a frown,

briefly tugged and smoothed at our costumes, then

announced with a smile that no alterations seemed to be

necessary. Now that our sizes had been confirmed

extra outfits would be produced and made available when

they were needed, and the clothing we'd taken off

would be cleaned and returned to our personal luggage.

Since everything was satisfactorily taken care

of, we were then free to leave the fitting room and

really begin the Great Adventure.

It took some doing not to react to the capitals in the

woman's voice, but we made it out of the room

without insulting her and rejoined Chal, who was waiting.

for us. His costume was exactly like the one the door

attendant had worn, all leather with straps across the

chest, and on him it looked even better than it had on

the attendant. Lidra hummed low in interest when she

saw him, but I was the only one who heard it. Chal

was talking to a boy in his mid-teens who was wearing

a page costume when we came out, and only when the

boy had finished what he was saying did Chal turn to

us with a grin.

"Say, you girls look great even if you do have more

than simple chest straps," he said, then gestured to

the boy at his right. "This is Tad, our newest guide,

and he'll be sending us on our way as soon as he gives

you two your watches."

"Watches?" Lidra asked for the two of us, apparently

as surprised and curious as I was. "What watches?"

"People always say that, and in just that way," the

boy Tad responded with a grin, handing Lidra and me

plain leather bands no more than an inch and a half

wide. "You'll need some way of telling the time once

you're in the Mists, and ordinary timepieces don't do

well in them. If you use these, you'll know exactly

what's happening. Just smooth them closed around

your wrist, and then follow me."

The leather band was very soft and flexible, and

once I'd smoothed it closed around my left wrist I

looked at the face of the timepiece embedded in the

center of it. Rather than give the date and local time,

it showed days, hours and minutes, all of it going

backward. It took no more than seconds to realize the

countdown had started at three full days, and even as

we stood there the minutes disappeared into the past

and were then no more. With a couple of hours already

gone, it was clear Lidra had been right about when our

vacation had started, which meant that when Tad

began leading the way past the fitting rooms, we fol-

lowed along without much foot-dragging.

An ordinary door at the end of the fitting area

brought us to a wide, well-lit section of stairway that

led downward, the stairs themselves curving around

out of sight to the left. We continued to follow Tad as

he followed the stairs, and after a few minutes of

walking we reached the bottom. It was very clear we

were well below-ground at that point, but the area was

brightly lit and painted with cheerful pastel colors that

suggested a party atmosphere. There were leather

couches and chairs spaced along the two walls to the

right of the foot of the stairs, a sign made of dancing

black letters on the wall to the left that said. "The

Castle of Beginning," and something that looked like

a wall with windows and doors straight ahead. It

wasn't immediately clear where we were supposed to

go from there, but Tad answered the question before

it was asked.

"That right there is what will be taking you into the

Mists," he said, gesturing toward what I'd thought

was a wall with windows and doors. "I was supposed

to have sent you on your way immediately, but while

coming down I was told to have you wait a minute or

two. There's someone else starting this tour right now,

and it will be more convenient for everyone involved

if you all travel together. He was given his costume

in another fitting room, so there won't be much of a

wait at all. In appreciation for your patience, the

management has arranged to compensate you for the loss

of time."

His smile accompanied a gesture to his wrist, which

naturally made us look at our new watches. The first

thing I saw was that the countdown had stopped, and

then the minute window blinked twice before

advancing for a count of five. After that it blinked another

two times then froze again, which obviously meant we

were now on hold. The countdown had stopped while

we were waiting as we'd been asked to do, and to

thank us for being patient we'd been given a bonus of

five whole minutes extra. I was seriously considering

mentioning how impressed I was with their generosity,

but Lidra beat me to it with a comment on a different

subject.

"Then that button in your ear is a communicator,"

she said, sounding pleased and impressed. "Is it one

way or two way?"'

"One way is all it has to be," the boy said as I

looked up to notice for the first time the button Lidra

had mentioned. "I don't usually spend enough time

with guests that I'd be likely to need to pass things

back up the line, but if I have to I can use one of the

house phones. I'm sure you didn't notice them, but

every area you've been in has had at least one. Like

here, for instance."

He moved between us to go to the wall that had been

to the right of the stairs, and pushed aside one light

orange section of it to show a quietly modest light

orange phone. I felt the urge to ask if the bright yellow

and light pink sections also had matching phones be-

hind them, but decided that wouldn't be very discreet

of me. From their reactions I was fairly sure Chal and

Lidra hadn't known there was anything behind the light

orange section of wall, which meant it would be best

if I joined them in ignorance. Our page guide closed

the section and began turning back to us, then put his

hand to his ear and turned to the stairs instead.

"See, they weren't exaggerating," he said, and at

that point we also became aware of the sound of two

sets of footsteps descending. "A couple of minutes

was what they said, and a couple of minutes was all it

was. Now you can be on your way, and the man won't

have to travel alone."

If the boy had been facing in our direction he might

have seen the glance exchanged between Chal and

Lidra, a glance that didn't have much in the way of

welcoming fellowship in it. Since we three were

supposed to be virtual strangers to one another, we

couldn't very well refuse the company of another

stranger without having it look very suspicious. That

left us with no option other than to accept him, at least

on a temporary basis. If his presence couldn't be turned

to a diversion once we reached our objective, we'd

have to find some way of getting rid of him.

Waiting with bated breath for someone to appear has

never been one of my favorite pastimes, so I turned

away from the stairs the others were watching to glance

again at the sections of the wall that were obviously

meant to be pushed aside. I really would have enjoyed

knowing what was behind those sections even if it was

nothing but light switches and thermostats, but I

couldn't very well walk over to them and open them

up to look. I was seriously considering camouflaging

my knowledge by trying all of the differently-colored

sections in order, starting with the pale brown right

next to the light orange, when I heard the sound of a

gasp. The origin of noises like that are often hard to

figure out, but it hadn't sounded like Chal or Lidra,

and that left no one but the boy Tad, I turned around,

immediately curious as to why he would make a sound

like that, and just as immediately found out. My two

companions were doing nothing more than staring in

silence, but our page couldn't seem to control himself.

"I know you!" he said excitedly to the man who

was coming down the last of the steps, another

shining-eyed teenage boy trailing adoringly behind.

"You're my absolute favorite, and I've memorized

every stat they ever put out about you! Can I shake

your hand, just to be able to say that I did?"

The man reached the bottom of the stairs and put

his hand out for the boy to take, but only part of his

attention was on the exchange. The rest of it was

involved in the faint smile he wore, the smile he'd

developed when his gray eyes had turned in my direction.

For my own part I didn't know how to feel, now that

it was clear the fourth of our party was the one and

only Serendel.

Chapter 7

"I think I'm starting to become a believer," Lidra said

in something of a mutter, the gloating delight so thick

in her voice she might as well have shouted. "My

mother always told me that if I was a good girl I'd be

rewarded, and was she ever right! After this I'll be

willing to eat everybody's vegetables, not just my own."

Chal smiled faintly as he glanced at her, but he

didn't seem to be as amused—or as pleased—as I'd

expected him to be. Lidra, her stare still glued to

Serendel, missed Chal's reaction, but didn't miss it when

Serendel looked at her with a frown.

"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I didn't hear that," he said,

honestly puzzled. "Were you talking to me about

vegetables?"

"No, not really," she said with a small cough and

a swallowed laugh, gesturing aside everything she was

very glad he hadn't heard. "We're delighted you'll be

joining us, Winner, and we promise not to chew off

more than one of your ears with questions. Don't we,

Chal?"

"We certainly do." my other teammate answered,

this time more amused as he put a hand out. "I'm Chal

Amor, and this is Lidra Kament. As I'm sure you've

already noticed, we're also fans of yours."

"I usually prefer fans to enemies," Serendel said

with a grin as he took Chal's hand. "Or, to be more

precise, fans of mine. I once found myself sharing

ground transportation with a small army of one of my

main rival's supporters, and I didn't know if I would

make it to my destination in any condition to fight.

Between looks meant to kill and acres of frozen

silence, I almost ended up with poisoned frostbite,"

"Oh, you poor thing," Lidra commiserated even

while she chuckled in enjoyment of the story. "But

this time Chal and I are here to protect you, so don't

let it worry you a single minute that Inky has declared

for Farison. We won't let her hurt you."

"Inky?" Serendel said with a puzzled look, and then

he seemed to remember the first face he'd seen. He

looked in my direction with his brows raised, hopefully

missing the blush I could feel in my cheeks over

what that miserable Lidra had told him, and Chal

cleared his throat.

"To complete the introductions, that's Dalisse Imbro,

known to those around her as Inky," Chal said,

sounding suspiciously bland. "Since she isn't much of

a fight fan she hasn't really declared for Farison, but

above that, I think you two have already met."

"You might say we've run into each other once or

twice," the big man answered, speaking to Chal but

still looking at me, definite amusement now in his

eyes. "We've never before been formally introduced,

though, so I appreciate having it done."

"Excuse me, my lords and ladies, but I'm afraid

it's time for you to leave now," our page Tad

interrupted with obvious reluctance, one hand to his ear.

"If you'll follow me into the car, I'll get you settled

for the trip."

"Or," Lidra muttered low as the boy moved past

us, "get them going, you idiot! His boss apparently

has very little appreciation for the art of conversation."

"Which may be a good thing for us," Chal added

in a matching murmur. "Our watches have started

again, which means time flies swiftly before us. We

can yak all we like once we're on our way."

"On, Chal, you're so practical," Lidra told him

with a sigh, an utter condemnation Serendel found

more amusing than Chal did. Our male teammate might

have been tempted to defend himself against the

charge, but just then Tad pressed a switch in the recess

he'd uncovered beside one of the doors, and what I'd

thought was a wall opened and lit up inside to show

what looked like a wide lounge. We followed the boy

inside, and he gestured around to the chairs, dispensers,

consoles and carpeting.

"We hope everything here will make this short trip

a comfortable one," he recited, the speech one he'd

clearly made any number of times before. "Drinks and

snacks are available from the dispensers, music from

the consoles, and even news or fiction, if you should

want them. When this car stops, you'll have reached

the Mists of the Ages. I hope you have the best time

ever, Winner Serendel!"

The last line was said faster than all the rest, and

after the universe's quickest bow, the boy got himself

out of there before his blush set the room on fire. We

all chuckled as the door slid back in its place to close

us in, and then we felt a small, very smooth lurch.

"Well, it looks like we're on our way," Chal said,

rubbing his hands together. "Would you like some-

thing to drink, Inky? Serendel?"

"How about me?" Lidra asked before Chal could

get any answers, her tone puzzled. "Were you under

the impression I got left back at the castle?"

"I couldn't be that lucky," Chal returned, his back

as stiff as his leather shoulder pieces as he walked

toward the drink dispenser. "Since you obviously

don't think much of people who are practical, I was

sure you wouldn't want to be offered a drink by one.

If you can't manage on your own, you'll have to stay

thirsty."

"Men!" Lidra muttered darkly with her fists on her

hips, glaring at the back that was still toward us. "Say

even a single word to them, and they get all bent out

of shape. And from a distance they look so solid! I

think I'd better make sure I don't die of thirst on this trip."

She glanced at us to excuse herself and then followed

Chal to the dispenser, apparently with the intention

of fence-mending and bridge-unburning. That

left me in the middle of the car with the fourth of our

number, and I suddenly discovered that the trip wasn't

going as comfortably as it was supposed to. I looked

around at the fifteen foot square that was our under-

ground transportation, seeing dark walls rushing by

beyond the sealed windows, and then my most

immediate companion stirred.

"I think it's going to be a while before we see those

drinks," Serendel observed, his voice held low.

"Would you like to sit down while we're waiting?"

His big hand gestured toward a cozy grouping of six

chairs around a polished-wood table, and I think if I

could have refused the suggestion I would have. I felt

like an idiot practicing to be an awkward adolescent,

and I didn't understand why that was. Serendel was

hardly the first man I'd ever met, and being asked if

I'd like to sit down was hardly the most intimate

suggestion ever made me. I finally managed to force a

smile and a nod, walked over to the chairs and picked

one, then sat down. I discovered I'd been hoping Serendel

would choose a place a few chairs over when he

sat down right next to me, but at least things could

have been worse. If the chairs had been couches

instead, I probably would have stayed on my feet.

"I'm finding out why so many women wear body-

suits instead of skirts," Serendel said once he was

settled, his eyes on his costume as his hands smoothed

the bottom of it. "If I get to the point of sitting down

without paying enough attention, I'm guaranteed to be

accused of advertising."

He looked up at me with a grin, and I couldn't help

smiling at his problem. Svalk makes a skirt that's much

easier to live with than the leather variety, but I sup-

pose it's harder to feel manly in svalk. My own skirt

lay obligingly relaxed around my knees, and didn't

need smoothing of any sort. With that in view I

decided it was time I pretended to be adult, and made

my own contribution to the conversation.

"My friends and I were surprised to see you," I

offered, hanging onto the smile I'd gained. "We

thought we were the only familiar faces coming to the

Mists of the Ages."

"One of the prices of fame is sometimes having to

sneak around." he answered, a look of apology

appearing briefly in his eyes. "If that crowd on the liner

had found out what my destination was, right now

we'd be up to our ears in watchers. I never knew how

many people can afford and are more than willing to

abandon their own plans to follow around after their

favorite, not until the first time it happened to me. It

ruined the quiet couple of days of relaxation I'd

planned, and even ruined the time for the other people

at the resort. After that I learned how to make private

arrangements with liners and resorts, and I'm usually

gone before anyone notices. This time the liner captain

used a later run to bring me down with some of the

freight, which is why you and your friends were

delayed. I hope it wasn't too long a wait."

"We managed to live through the extra two

minutes," I said. trying to control the outrage I felt.

Having to sneak around like a criminal just to get some

privacy simply wasn't right, not for someone who

didn't thrive on that kind of treatment. If it had been

me, I would have refused to live like that, would have

told those people to get away from me and stay away.

I probably wouldn't have been liked very well, but

people take me as I am or they don't have me at all.

"And I don't know how you can stand it," I went

on, finding it impossible not to mention the point.

"You can't scratch at a private itch without having

twelve people offering to help. If it was me, I'd be

insane in about a minute and a half."

"It's not quite that bad," he said with a chuckle,

his gray eyes now empty of apology. "For the most

part they're really good people, and because they're

so involved with my life it usually doesn't occur to

them that I'm not actually a member of their immediate

family. Ninety percent of them will gladly and

willingly give me privacy any time I ask for it, without

feeling in the least insulted. It's that last ten percent

you have to watch out for, the ones who think their

support means they own you. Not only don't they take

hints, they have to be shoved out of the way before

you can close your cabin door. Real fans don't like

their sort any more than the fighters do, but there's

nothing any of us can do about them short of extermination."

"What's wrong with extermination?" I asked, liking

the sound of it. "The Empire would end up being

a much better place, and if fighters aren't equipped to

do the job no one is."

"You're overlooking one small problem," he

answered with a laugh, shifting just a little in his chair.

"There are laws against doing things like that outside

of an arena, no matter how soul-satisfying we'd find

it. Do you think they'd be suicidal enough to push

fighters the way they do if they weren't protected by

the law?"

"That's only one of the things wrong with me law,"

I told him firmly, not about to be talked out of my

opinion. "It protects the guilty instead of the innocent,

which isn't the way it was supposed to be. If the ones

who made the laws were forced to live with them rather

than above or around them, you'd see how fast things

would change."

"If it makes you feel any better, I agree with you

completely," he said, trying not to look too amused

at my outrage. "I'd love to put one of the lawmakers

in my position, and then see how long the pests would

last. I'd give it until the first time the man saw an

attractive woman he really wanted to meet, but

couldn't get anywhere near her because that ten

percent was constantly in the way. Some women don't

mind the unending hoopla, but the really special ones

often dislike being crowded and jostled. When they

stay away from you after the first meeting or two, you

sometimes wonder if it's the crowds—or you."

Those light gray eyes were no longer filled with

amusement, and somehow the conversation had

changed from what it had started out as. I discovered

that my outrage had disappeared along with his

amusement, a cowardly move if I ever saw one. Outrage

never seemed to be there when you really needed it.

but fluster and awkwardness were always quick as a

bunny when it came to showing up. I really didn't

know what to say. and when he saw my hesitation he

smiled faintly.

"Farison isn't just a good fighter, he's also a very

lucky man," Serendel said, trying to make the words

sound light-hearted. "His followers don't believe in

letting themselves be lured away from him."

"But I'm not really a follower of Farison," I

blurted, not even thinking about what I was saying.

"I've hardly seen him fight, no more than once or

twice, but he happened to look better than the ones I

did see more of. On the liner— It wasn't you I was

staying away from, it was an involvement—with so

many people around, and so short a trip—"

"Now that's what I was hoping to hear," he

interrupted my rambling with a grin, his sadness

evaporating so fast it might never have been there in the first

place. "It's crushing to think a pretty girl is avoiding

you because she can't stand looking at your ugly face.

I do hope you noticed there aren't any crowds around

now."

He leaned toward me with that and reached for my

hand, his grin so infuriating I would have happily

smacked him in the face with something. Instead of

moving my hand out of reach I simply curled it into a

fist, and that got his attention the way my silence

hadn't.

"You did that on purpose," I stated, so hopping

mad my voice was absolutely steady. "You made me

feel sorry for you in order to take advantage of me. I

dare you to deny it."

"I had to do something to make you talk to me,"

he protested with light-eyed innocence, not a trace of

guilt in him at having been caught. "After you stopped

yelling at me on the liner you avoided me completely,

and when we met again just a few minutes ago, you

looked like you were about to go back to the avoiding.

I just thought I'd let you know I don't want to be

avoided."

"I'll file your preference in with the rest of your

stats," I said, standing up before he could reach for

my hand again. "If you happen to get curious about

how I'm looking at it, try making a wild guess."

I turned my back and walked away then, giving him

help with the guess he'd be making. I really hated it

when people tried to take advantage of me, which they

usually did because they thought I was innocent. Seero

had always told me I was lucky to look the way I did,

as it helped me to find out very quickly who was trust-

worthy and who wasn't. I, myself, had never considered

the talent that much of a convenience, and I was

still so annoyed I almost ran directly into Chal and

what he was carrying.

"Hey, look out!" he squawked, stopping very short

to avoid the collision, his hands holding the spill-

threatening drinks away from his costume. "I have

your cup of javi right here, Inky. You didn't have to

come after it yourself."

"Thanks for the javi, Chal," I said. taking the cup

out of his hand with a brisk nod. "I'll be drinking it

over here by myself, so you and Lidra enjoy your own

drinks."

I gave him a second nod and then marched away,

barely glancing at a Lidra who stood silently beside

him with brows raised high. To the left of the drink

dispenser was another cozy grouping of chairs, one

that looked more attractive than the first in that I would

be using it alone. I sat down with my back to the

others, crossed my legs, and sipped at the javi.

"What in hell is going on?" Chal demanded, coming

around to where he could see me. "One minute

you're sitting over there, having a quiet conversation,

and the next you're practically running me down to

get to another seat. Do they charge more for that part

of the car, or what?"

"You could say the price of sitting over there is

higher than I care to pay," I agreed with a judicious

nod, giving the javi most of my attention. "That

doesn't mean you two have to do without, not on my

account. I'm perfectly capable of spending the trip time

alone, and in fact I think I'd prefer it."

"I have a feeling we've been through this conversation

before," Lidra said, coming to stand beside

Chal, each of her hands holding a glass. "Don't tell

me you and Serendel are back to looking for your own

private arena."

"Don't include me in on that," the big man himself

said, making it unanimous as he stopped beside Lidra.

"All I was trying to do was get acquainted, but

apparently I picked the wrong track to take. It looks like

I owe everyone another apology."

"Chal and I spend enough time apologizing to each

other." Lidra said, looking up at Serendel with a grin.

"I don't think we have room for anyone else's

apologies, so why don't you save what you have for Inky?

And by the way, this drink is for you."

"It's cream-clear," he said in surprise after taking

the glass and sniffing at it. "How did you know it's

my favorite drink? Winners never state preferences like

that one way or the other. If we did, it would be like

forcing everyone who follows us to eat or drink the

same."

"Which is against fighter codes," she said with a

nod, sipping at her own drink. "The only thing is,

you didn't start out as a triple-gold winner, and some-

one did an interview with you after your second or

third successful showing. The interviewer mentioned

she spent two hours drinking cream-clear with you,

which led me to suspect it might be one of your favorites.

How much did I have to lose by taking the chance?"

"Absolutely nothing." he agreed with a grin that

matched her earlier one, raising his glass to her. "I

gladly toast one of the ninety rather than one of the

ten, and tender my thanks for your consideration. And

by the way, even though there isn't enough alcohol in

cream-clear to affect an infant, the toast is still valid.

The codes are clear on that point, too."

The three of them chuckled as they all drank to

whatever ritual fighter-toast he'd proposed, getting

along as well together as I'd known they would. I

moved my attention to one of the windows as I sipped

my javi, watching dark walls rush by no more than six

inches from the car. They hadn't told us how long a

trip we'd be making, and I really hoped that was

because the time would be too short to be worth

mentioning. With problems of real importance waiting for

me to get home, I wanted that job over with as soon

as possible.

"And now that you've been fortified, why don't you

try that apology on Inky?" Lidra's voice came, back

to sounding amused. "I'd be more than happy to spend

this vacation entertaining you myself, but Chal said he

sees very poor health ahead for me if I do more than

flirt with you and daydream. I'd hate putting my health

in jeopardy, so Inky's your only other chance. I know

you don't find her very interesting, so I guess you'll

have to force yourself."

"Well, we all have to sacrifice something on a joint

vacation, for the sake, of course, of the others with

us," Serendel agreed in a solemn voice, probably

looking just as sober. "I'm sure most men run screaming

from the sight of Inky, but I'm strong enough to

hold my ground and stick it out. Closing my eyes every

now and then should help, at least until I get used to

her looks. After that, she may not even notice I'm

forcing myself."

"No wonder you don't mind entering the arena to

answer a challenge," Chal said to him, his tone dryly

amused. "If that's the sort of thing you say to every

woman you meet, you have to be safer in the arena

than out of it."

"Well, she didn't seem to like hearing me say I

found her attractive." Serendel protested, and I could

hear that innocence again in his voice. "If she prefers

being told she's an eyesore, who am I to deny it to

her? I try to give all women what they like best,

without passing judgment on their taste."

"Did you hear that, Inky?" Lidra said with a very

heavy leer in her voice. "A man who gives women

what they want instead of what he wants. You'd better

grab him quick before he gets away."

"Yes, I heard what he said, and I couldn't be more

delighted," I answered, continuing to watch the

unending black outside the window. "Since what I

want most is to be left alone, I'm glad to hear I'll be

getting it. Repeating yourself a dozen times or more

can be unbelievably boring."

"Look, I really do apologize for what I did a few

minutes ago," Serendel said as I sipped at my javi,

sounding seriously serious as he stepped closer to my

chair. "The truth of the matter is I wasn't trying to

take advantage of you, but I was trying to play on your

sympathies. I've found that some women—hesitate—

when it comes to getting involved with me, and that

because of the number of women I've already been

involved with. I thought if I made you feel sorry for

me you would let me know if you considered me at all

interesting, and then we could go on from there. If I

had really been trying to take advantage of you, would

I have been so fast to drop the act? Wouldn't I have

kept on with it, at least until I'd gotten what I

wanted?"

"I don't know," I answered, finally moving my eyes

back to look up at him. "Would you have?"

A flash of frustration showed in his gaze, brief but

fair-to-middling intense, the sort of thing no professional

con artist would ever have let himself show.

Push the mark off-balance and keep her there was the

standard way of doing it, make her question herself

rather than you. I'd been taught more than basic tactics

even before I was out of lower school, a self-defense

course given gratis by some of Seero's vast multitude

of friends. My teachers had all been experienced

professionals, but "talented amateur" was the best that

could be said about Serendel. He'd conned me once,

and I wasn't in the mood to give him a second shot at it.

"Come on, Inky, you're being unreasonable," Lidra

protested, glancing uncomfortably at Serendel.

"You're acting like he's trying to apologize for

attempted assassination. You know he was looking in

your direction even before we got here, so you can't

possibly believe he's handing you a line. Give the guy

a chance!"

"You give him a chance," I said, getting out of my

chair to head toward the drink dispenser. "I'm not

here just to fill in his empty time until he reaches the

next group of dancing girls. If there's a law written

somewhere that says I have to associate with him,

show it to me. If there doesn't happen to be that kind

of law, leave me the hell alone."

I put my cup in the slot and pressed for a refill of

the javi, hearing the heavy silence my last remarks had

produced. After having given me her full approval,

Lidra was obviously not very happy that I refused to

fall swooning at the feet of her idol, but that was just

too bad about her. They were all expecting me to let

that big jerk treat me any way he pleased and simply

be grateful for the attention, but I'd be damned if I

would. They all had so much in common it was

sickening; since the choice was mine I'd be staying out of

it, and they could all have fun sickening each other.

"It might be a good idea to talk about something

else for a while," Chal's voice came after a minute,

trying to smooth the awkwardness out of the moment.

"This is supposed to be a vacation, after all, so let's

just relax and enjoy ourselves. Have you ever been

here before, Serendel?"

"No, this is my first visit," the man answered after

the briefest of hesitations, apparently agreeing with

Chal about a change of subjects. "There aren't many

places I can go to get away from the general public

for a while, but this promises to be one of them. My

business manager contacted them for me, and was told

that the number of people on each tour session is

deliberately kept small, to encourage those people to join

in on the action as a part of it. Their workers, who

stage the scenes in the Mists, either stay in character

no matter who comes past them as a guest, or they get

fired. If I can spend my time enjoying the tour rather

than being one of its main attractions, I'll probably

become a regular visitor."

"Lidra and I have never been here before either,"

Chal said, and I heard them moving around as though

they were sitting down. I, myself, was in the middle

of going back to my original chair with my freshened

cup of javi, pleased that they finally seemed to be leaving

me alone. "As a matter of fact Lidra and I met on

the liner coming here, the same liner you were on.

Since we're both fans of yours, it worked out very well

in bringing us even closer together."

"How about your other friend over there?" Serendel

asked as I sat down all alone, his tone not quite as

friendly as it had been. "Did either of you know

Smudge before you met on the liner?"

"Ah—that's 'Inky,' and no, we didn't." Lidra said

hastily when Chal stayed silent, something odd in her

voice. "We all became friends on the liner, especially

after we found out we were all going to the same place.

Inky isn't very happy to be here, because vacationing

in the Mists was her friend's idea, her friend got sick

at the last minute, and the Mists people refused to

return Inky's deposit. She came alone rather than simply

lose the money, but she really is determined not

to enjoy herself. Knowing that, you may be able to

understand now why she's being somewhat unfriendly."

"What I think I understand even better is why her

friend got sick," was the terribly clever reply, the

words dry and spoken clearly enough so that everyone

could hear them. "Under similar circumstances, I

might do the same myself."

They went on to talk about other things after that,

but I had stopped listening. As I sipped my javi, it had

come to me how familiar that situation seemed, and

then I remembered an incident in upper school that I

thought I'd forgotten completely. All schools have

their in-sets and exclusive power groups, and mine was

no different; those of us who had little or no interest

in that sort of flock nonsense simply left them to their

games and went about our own business. I'd had no

intentions of ever getting involved with those people—

until one of them decided to do me a favor.

I sighed as I crossed my legs in the comfortable

chair, remembering how excited my best friend had

been when I was asked to a dance by the boy who was

the star member of the most exclusive of the in-groups.

They were the ones who had the money and the social

position, and the boy had decided that my guardian,

Seero, had enough money to justify my being included

in their group. The fact that he was also hot to try

scoring with me had helped him make that important

a decision, but I hadn't known about that part of it;

I'd thought he was simply interested in me as a person.

Seero had chuckled at my excitement and had told me

to go for it, and my best friend had decided it was the

most marvelous thing that could ever have happened

to me. If I'd had any sense I would have refused, but

with my best friend urging me on I ended up accepting.

The dance itself had been a little on the boring side,

but I'd had fun when some of the older members of

the group tried making me feel uncomfortable by dis-

cussing all the places they'd been. Much to their dis-

may it had turned out I'd been to all those places too,

and a number of others besides. When I'd mentioned

I'd even been on a run through the wilds they'd all

gasped, and for the next hour I'd been flooded with

questions about the time. My escort had been absolutely

delighted that he'd chosen so well in a partner

for the dance, but only because I hadn't mentioned the

strokes that had taken Seero and me to all those places,

or the reason we'd had to make the wilds run. There

aren't any strokes to be made in the wilds, but there

are other things.

When the dance was over, my escort had taken me

home in his expensive new sports model—or at least

he was supposed to have taken me home. What he'd

actually done was end us up in a really bad neighbor-

hood, parked in a deserted shopping-traffic lane, and

then had pleasantly announced the way I was going to

thank him for taking me to the dance. When I'd

announced back that he must have had too much of the

mixed-fruit punch he hadn't been amused, and had then

proceeded to explain my choice. Either I gave him

what he wanted or I got out and walked home, or at

least tried to walk home. In that neighborhood there

was no guarantee I would make it without losing a lot

more than he was asking for, but the choice was

completely mine. His grin of enjoyment had twisted his

handsome face into a leering glimpse of his true

nature, but the grin had lasted only until I got out of his

sports model and slammed the door hard enough to

crack its paint job.

As an added statement to the sort he was, he actually

drove away and left me there. I'd waited until he was

completely out of sight, and then I'd followed one of

the dark, uneasily-deserted streets to the place of business

of one of Seero's friends. The woman had been

furious over what had been done to me, and had had

one of her largest bouncers drive me home. My former

escort had been right about the sort of things that could

happen to a girl alone in a neighborhood like that, but

I hadn't been as alone as he'd thought. Thanks to Seero

and the shadow-life he'd shared with me, I hadn't had

to do anything I would have found extremely distasteful,

and I hadn't been harmed because of the refusal I

would have made in any event.

After that I'd stayed as far away as possible from

exclusive in-groups, and hadn't even paid attention

when my escort of that night had begun having expensive,

embarrassing accidents. Seero had been really

angry over what the boy had tried to force me into,

and Seero had had an awful lot of friends. My own

best friend had tried telling me I'd been an idiot, that

what the boy had asked for would have been a small

price to pay for admission to their group, and not long

after that she'd found someone else to be friends with.

The someone else had already been accepted on the

fringes of the group my ex-friend had had so much

interest in, and only then had I understood that she'd

wanted me accepted so that she could have an associated

acceptance. Finding that out had really gotten me

mad, and I'd sworn never to let myself be put in a

situation like that again.

I stirred in my seat as I heard the laughter coming

from those I shared the car with, the people who had

so very much in common. It was a shame Serendel

would have to be dumped when we got to where we

had work to do, but Lidra and Chal would just have

to live with it. Once we were finished they'd be able

to find him again, of course, and I'd be able to get out

of there and go back to work that really needed doing.

I had no interest in belonging to in-groups—of any

kind—and once I was back home I'd never have to be

bothered by them again.

I was just finishing my third cup of javi when the

car began slowing down from a headlong rush. There

was still nothing but featureless black walls around us

when we reached an easy gliding pace, and then suddenly

there was an open area of lights and color that

looked very much like the one we'd left. As the car

came to a smooth and uneventful stop I was able to

see the one difference between there and the place we'd

started, the sign on the wall that was now to the right

of the stairs we faced. The sign read, "The Mists of

Uexis," and as the doors opened there was another

boy dressed as a page to greet us.

"Welcome, gentle travelers, welcome to the Mists

of Uexis," the boy said, watching as we approached

the doors from where we'd been when the car had

stopped. "I'm here to take you to your journey scout,

who will then get you settled in your accommodations

in this part of the city. Please follow me."

Chal and Lidra stepped through the doorway without

hesitation, following as requested, but Serendel didn't

go with them. He stopped beside the door instead,

looked down at me with those cold gray eyes, then

gestured me out ahead of him with a small, sardonic

bow. I was tempted to say thanks anyway, but I'd

rather not have you behind me, but it really wasn't

worth the effort. Rather than saying anything at all, I

simply walked past him as though he weren't there,

glancing around before moving after the three who had

already begun climbing the stairs. That multi-colored

area had the same panels with things behind them that

the first place had had, but there still wasn't any way

for me to check them out.

The climb up wasn't as long as the climb down had

been, which was a lucky thing for Lidra. She was

already breathing heavily when we reached the top, but

at least she wasn't gasping. Our page paused then to

let us look around, which was really very wise of him.

If he'd just continued on he would have found himself

alone, and not because any of us, including Lidra,

needed to rest. There had been some stray wisps of

fog on the stairs as we'd rounded the last turn near the

top, finding it thickening the higher we went, but it

hadn't prepared us for what we finally moved up into.

All around us was swirling gray fog, roiling mists

that refused us sight of the sky, and the sun, and even

the ground we stood on. The only things that were

visible were the items that had been built in and for

the Mists, things like buildings. Not far from where

we stood, on our left, was a line of buildings and stores

and shops and stalls, all of it glowing faintly as though

the construction material had been the very sun that

the fog refused sight of, a sun that had been reduced

to individual pieces of its spectrum. Reds and yellows

and greens and blues glowed faintly through the gray

of the fog, coloring small patches of the mist, looking

like ghosts of things that were bright and real. Some-

one clattered past us on a greenly-glowing cart, what

was drawing the cart invisible in the fog, and finally

our page decided he'd waited long enough.

"This way now, travelers, if you please," he said

in a very firm tone, apparently having experience with

needing to be firm. "Your journey scout is waiting for

you in the assistance booth right over there. If at any

time during your tour you happen to need help and

your scout isn't available, simply go to one of those

booths. There will be someone on duty at all times,

and anyone you speak to will be glad to help."

We were being led off to the right during all that, in

a direction that seemed to take us through a gap in

other stalls, shops and buildings, toward a structure

that was brighter than all the glowing objects around

it. It looked very much like a slender pyramid built of

cold, blue-white fire, and was obviously made to be

easily visible in all directions. I tried to watch where

I was putting my feet as I walked, and for that reason

noticed the ground beneath us was cobblestoned in

wide blocks, every fourth block glowing the way the

buildings did. Strangely enough the mist felt warm and

dry rather than damp as I passed through it, just as

though someone had blotted up whatever moisture

might have originally been present. I might have felt

too warm if I'd been wearing normal clothing, which

could have been one of the reasons we'd been given

costumes.

It took only a couple of minutes to walk to the

pyramid, and during that time a number of other people

appeared out of the fog, passed us, men disappeared

again. Only one of them was dressed in the same sort

of leather costume the male members of our group

wore, and that one strolled along being followed by

men in short-skirted tunics of cloth. The one in leather

paid no real attention to the ones in cloth, just as

though he were allowing them the honor of being near

him, but still didn't find it necessary to acknowledge

their existence. The rest of the passersby wore

nothing but cloth, walked alone, and moved so slowly they

seemed to have all the time in the universe. Everyone

we'd seen was moving slowly, except for our newest

page.

"And here we are, gentle travelers," our page said,

opening a door in the side of the pyramid that faced

us, then leading the way inside. "Allow me to present

Velix, the journey scout who will look after you

during your stay in the Mists."

"Words fail me to describe my delight in meeting

you. lords and ladies," the scout said as we stopped

just inside the doorway to stare at him, the comment

most definitely on me dry side. "As you may have

noticed from the release you all signed, during your

stay here in the Mists, my suggestions are your

commands. You go nowhere and do nothing without my

express permission, or the one place you will go is

back to the port to wait for your liner. Your time in

the Mists will be the most unusual vacation you've

ever had, but if you don't obey me it can also be the

most dangerous. Since you're paying for fun rather

than harm, let's make sure that's what you get, eh?

Are we all clear on how it will work?"

He looked around at each of us, calm arrogance and

authority in the bright eyes that touched us, but he

didn't get the sort of immediate agreement he was

obviously looking for. I didn't know what was keeping

the others quiet, but I was still too busy staring at him

to have time to react to what he'd said. He was sitting

calmly in the middle of the booth floor, paying no

attention to the page behind him or the one who had

brought us there, apparently also unaware of the fog

that swirled around all of us, fighting with the bright

lighting inside the booth. Sitting on his haunches his

head was as high as mine, his beaked nose and mouth

giving his dark eyes an even fiercer look. If I hadn't

had other things to take my attention I might have

wondered how he spoke our language so easily, but

the impatient swishing of his long, tufted tail was too

distracting. That tail led back up to a dark yellow body

that was positively huge, and it was possible to see

how well-muscled it was even with the folded dark

green wings covering his back. I couldn't quite tell if

his mane was fur or feathers, but it came more than

halfway down his huge chest, toward four feet that

were rather clearly taloned.

I had been expecting our journey scout to be an older

version of the pages, but what he had turned out to be

was a nonhuman Griddenth.

Chapter 8

"For the amount of money I'm being charged, I

expect to have some say in what I see and do," Lidra

remarked at last, the first of us to come out of it.

"Paying for the privilege of being bossed around isn't

my idea of a fun vacation, Velix, and I think my

attorneys will see it the way I do. I agreed to obey the

rules of the Mists in the release I signed, but I never

agreed to become a puppet or a slave. If that's the way

you intend interpreting the release, you'd better get

one of your bosses in here to discuss the point with us."

"I'm afraid I'll have to go along with the lady,"

Serendel put in as the Griddenth glared at Lidra, the

man's words sounding almost amused. "I'll be more

than happy to have your advice and guidance, but I

don't obey anyone without question. If that's the way

you intend running this tour, you'd better find a

different group to do it with."

"So I've been blessed with not one but two free

souls this time around," the Griddenth growled,

looking between Lidra and Serendel, his bearing now much

more aristocratic and even less distantly familiar than

it had been. "You both seem to think I'm exaggerating

the danger and playing tyrant for the fun of it, but

that's only because you've never been through here

before. You're the ones who decide which way you'll

go after the set tour areas are visited and what you'll

do when you get there, but I'm the one who tells you

whether it's smart to go that way or do as you intend.

That point doesn't happen to be subject to debate with

me or my superiors, and if you can't accept it you'll

simply have to leave. Now, which way will it be: do

you stay, or do you go back where you came from?"

He set the question flatly in front of them, no doubt

at all in any part of his bearing, and Lidra, at least,

seemed more than simply annoyed. Considering the

fact that we couldn't just turn around and go back, she

wasn't free to push the matter too far, not if there was

any chance at all the management of the Mists would

back Velix. As a matter of fact she'd already made

more of a fuss than she should have; if they thought

we were likely to cause trouble, they'd watch us more

closely than we'd find comfortable or convenient. I

saw her lips tighten in angry determination, as though

she'd just decided not to let herself be pushed around,

and if I'd had the time I would have groaned. Since I

didn't have the time, what I did instead was step for-

ward before she put all our feet in it.

"What difference can it possibly make who decides

what?" I asked, addressing most of the question to

Lidra while hoping she'd understand what I was really

saying. "Maybe you and Chal expect to have a good

time here, but for my part I've come for no more than

a single reason. If I listen to them and do exactly as

they say and still don't enjoy myself, they can't very

well complain I didn't go along, now can they?"

She had her eyes on me by the time I'd finished, and

this time I could see frustration in them instead of the

previous looking-for-a-fight. She'd read my message

ten and zero and was wishing she could argue, but

wasn't dim enough to think she really could. Behind

her to the left Chal stood with nothing but blandness

in his expression, but if that wasn't a hint of relief in

his eyes, I've never seen the emotion. No more than

seconds went by while Lidra swallowed the bitter pill,

and then she nodded with no indication of defeat what-

soever.

"You know, Inky, you've made a very good point,"

she said, then moved her gaze directly to the Griddenth.

"It will be a much stronger stand if we go along

with their absurd demands, and our vacation is ruined

because of it. My lawyers have won any number of

cases like that, but the position does require full

cooperation. I'll have to be very careful to see that I do

exactly what Velix says—within reason, of course."

"Your graciousness is an inspiration to us all,

Lady," Velix said with an infinitesimal bow of his

head, sarcasm dripping from every word. "I look

forward to our association during this tour. And what

decision have you made, lord Serendel?"

With our own problem solved I found myself hoping

the fighter would stick to his previous stance and turn

around and leave, but no such luck. He smiled faintly,

possibly at the realization that Velix had recognized

him but hadn't shown it in any way other than using

his name, and then he shrugged.

"I can't afford the time leaving and going somewhere

else would cost me," he said, sounding no more

apologetic or defeated than Lidra had. "I'm here so

I'll be staying here, but it's only fair to warn you about

one important point. If I'm told why I shouldn't be

doing something I'll most likely go along with the

recommendation, but if I'm simply given an order I tend

to get annoyed. You really should understand that I,

unlike the lady, rarely hand over my annoyances to

lawyers. When people understand I prefer dealing with

them myself, I find a much smaller number of

annoyances to deal with."

"Hardly surprising," the Griddenth commented,

and I would have sworn he'd developed the same sort

of faint smile worn by the man. "When one refuses

to accept petty annoyances, one finds fewer of them

offered. I'm sure we'll strike a balance acceptable to

both of us. Are there any other questions or protests

waiting their turn to be placed or lodged?"

He looked around at all of us again, giving it plenty

of time rather than none at all, but even though Lidra

stirred where she stood, no one took him up on his

offer of an argument. I had the feeling he was neatly

reestablishing his authority, and when no one

challenged it he nodded his head and stood.

"We'll go on to your accommodations, then, and on

the way I'll explain what your places are in this town,"

he said, briefly shaking out his wings as he moved

toward us. "The period of time is taken from the planet

Uexis' distant past, and although they all consider it

fact-bound history, the rest of the Empire tends to think

of it more as fanciful imagination. Uexians like to

believe their distant ancestors had the ability to do

magic."

"I've heard that before," Chal put in as we fol-

lowed our scout back into the fog, leaving the two

pages behind in the booth. "I used to wonder how they

could believe that in the face of logic and reason, and

then I found out. They think the ability was lost some-

where along the road to advanced civilization, that

whatever caused the talent to do magic atrophied like

the appendix some members of our race once had. It's

been theorized that the appendix allowed the human

animal to take nutrition from the bark of trees, but

once they developed a hunting and farming culture to

replace simple gathering, they no longer had a need

for it. It was . . ."

"Exactly, exactly," Velix interrupted courteously

but hastily, happily heading off what promised to be a

very long lecture on comparative biology. "Our

people felt the belief would do very well here in the Mists,

and this town is the result of that conviction. Those

who wear plain cloth are commoners, those in leather

like that worn by you gentlemen are upper class lords,

and those in glowing robes are magicians. You ladies

are also dressed as members of the upper class, and

that's the way you'll all be treated— except by the other

members of the upper class."

"Sounds to me like the rivalry was somewhat

intense," Serendel commented, apparently interested. I,

myself, was more interested in something I'd noticed

about Velix, a fact that could turn out to be very handy

later on. As I walked beside him through the ever-

present fog, the sound of his talons clicking against

the cobblestones was very clear. If he didn't have some

way of muting that sound, we'd never have to wonder

whether or not he was in the immediate vicinity.

Engaging in frowned-upon activities went easier and more

successfully with a break like that, but before we

relied on the theory it would have to be tested.

"The rivalry was more than 'somewhat' intense,"

Velix said to Serendel, now apparently amused.

"Every member of the upper class was ready, at a

moment's notice, to insult or destroy any other

member. The only thing that kept it from being a time of

constant, all-out warfare was the presence of the

magicians. Every lord had a magician backing his House,

and the strength of his magician determined what he

could and couldn't do against the others. After you've

rested, you gentlemen will have the chance to choose

magicians of your own."

"What about 'we ladies'?" Lidra asked at once,

taking her attention from a pinkly-glowing house on

the left that seemed to have a lot of windows, all of

them lit. "Don't we get to choose magicians for our

own Houses?"

"Alas, dear lady, the period of time didn't work that

way," Velix answered as he turned his head to her,

his amusement perfectly clear under the sorrowful tone

he'd adopted. "Only lords were permitted to be heads

of Households, never a lady alone. The ladies were

another popular point of contention for the lords, and

may well have been the most popular. If a lady struck

a lord's fancy he simply claimed her, and the strength

of his magician determined whether or not he got to

keep her. You two ladies will certainly be claimed

almost immediately, and if the magicians chosen by

the lords who accompany you aren't powerful enough,

you'll need to accede to the wishes of the claiming

lord. If the chosen magicians prove more powerful than

their adversaries, you'll be the undisputed property of

the lord accompanying you. That's the way the game

works, and I believe both of you ladies indicated

complete willingness to comply in your releases."

"But what if we don't have a lord accompanying

us?" I said, finally finding something of my own to

argue about. "I agreed to go along with the game

where the people working here are concerned, but

nothing was said about my having to be stuck with

some other guest like myself. If something had been

said, I would have had the chance to enter a refusal,

just the way I'm doing now."

"My dear young lady, we do have experience in

arranging these matters," Velix said as he this time

looked at me, superior and almost condescending

reproof in his voice. "If there had been no other

acceptable guest to add to your party, one of our own

would have been added to balance your numbers. With

lord Serendel available, however, the effort became

unnecessary. For you, he's the lord accompanying

you."

I thought I heard a sound like swallowed laughter,

but when I turned my head fast to the right, the fighter

was looking down at me with the blandest expression

I'd ever seen. When he saw me looking at him he

shrugged just a little, his small headshake adding to

the impression of total resignation in the face of

complete helplessness, a defeat accepted even before battle

had been joined. I'm sure he thought he was being

really cute, but I was in no mood to be the butt of

anyone's joke.

"As I said, I never agreed to let myself get stuck

with some stranger," I told Velix as I turned back to

look at him, even less friendliness in my tone than

there had been. "Since there isn't anyone acceptable

around to be my lord, I'll just have to do without one.''

"No one acceptable?" the Griddenth echoed in near

outrage, those bright, dark eyes glaring at me. "My

dear young woman, have you any idea what you're

saying? Don't you know—"

He broke off in the middle of the sentence,

obviously fighting to keep from talking about things his

job didn't allow him to talk about, and then he got a

firmer grip on himself.

"All right, I think it's fairly clear that whatever gods

there may be are displeased with me," he said, a

strong determination to cope now in his tone.

"Nevertheless, I think I'll be best off ignoring that and

simply going ahead as though they weren't. If you intend

arguing the term 'acceptable,' young lady, you ought

to know how these matters are judged. A court will

poll a hundred women from your own home world,

and if three-quarters of them or more disagree with

your decision, the court will find against you. You will

be told that we had every right to eject you from the

Mists for breach of contract, and not only won't you

be relieved of the necessity for paying us the full

amount charged, you'll also be given the burden of

paying court costs. And just in case you're uncertain

as to how the poll will turn out, I'll let you in on a

little secret. One of the larger glad program networks

already did a poll about three months ago, using the

top five winners as their offering and every woman

between the ages of sixteen and ninety on every planet

the network broadcast to as their base. Based on the

results of that poll, and bearing in mind the fact that

even women who weren't regular viewers of arena

events were counted in, my advice to you would be to

not waste your time and money."

"I seriously doubt whether any court can tell me I

have to like what everyone else likes," I countered,

feeling the need to dent his heavy satisfaction a little,

but more concerned with a different point he'd

mentioned. "My planet has laws guaranteeing my right to

my own taste in things as long as no one else is

affected by my choice, but I don't understand why you're

being so unbending about this. Why would I be ejected

from the tour if all I did was refuse to associate with

someone in my own group?"

"The answer to that, dear lady, is that a choice of

such a sort on your part would affect many more

people than just yourself," he answered with a sigh,

stopping where we were in the fog to look directly at me.

"Based on the answers given in your release, certain

specifics were arranged for this group's tour, and lord

Serendel was added to it. If you try changing your

mind now, after everything has been arranged, our tour

plans are ruined and so is lord Serendel's vacation.

With that in view our only option would be to eject

you, replace you with one of our own people, and then

charge you for the time lost. You would also be

expected to pay for the tour as though you'd taken it,

and if it came down to going to court, your signatures

of agreement on the release would make the term

'acceptable' a matter of general opinion rather than a

specific. Do you understand what I'm saying, or must I

go through it again more slowly and in greater detail?

I'll be happy to go over it as many times as you like,

but I really must have an answer from you now. If you

insist on keeping to your refusal, I have to see about

sending you back and bringing one of our workers in

to replace you."

I didn't answer him immediately, but not because I

didn't understand him or was worried about having to

pay for a tour I hadn't taken. My hesitation was based

entirely on the apparent fact that if I refused to go

along with their game, they'd kick me out without

waiting for another reason. Having to go back home

immediately rather than after a delay would not be my

idea of a heartbreaking outcome, but that would leave

Lidra and Chal in a bind after I'd given my word to

help them. I stood there for a minute without being

able to see any way out of the mess, and then Chal

decided to do for me what I'd done for Lidra.

"Come on, Inky, you don't want to spoil our

vacation, too," he coaxed. "If you aren't here with us

we'll have a miserable time no matter how much fun

it turns out to be, so try to be reasonable. And I'll tell

you what: if it happens that Serendel's magician is

stronger than a claimant's and you make an effort to

get along with the winner but can't, you and Lidra can

trade lords for a while. You don't consider me

unacceptable, do you?"

He gave me a smile with the question, emphasizing

the personal and deemphasizing the fact that he'd

reminded me I was needed, and because he was looking

at me he missed the peculiar expression that Lidra

briefly showed. She'd agreed completely with the first

part of his speech, but when she realized he'd offered

himself in the place of Serendel, she hadn't seemed to

like the idea. Considering the way she supposedly felt

about the big fighter her reaction was very interesting,

but I had no time at all to think about it. Velix seemed

even more pleased with Chal's offer, and quickly added

some urging of his own.

"And you really must remember that a lord is

needed no place but here, in the Mists of Uexis," he

said, settling his wings flatter in a very comfortable

way. "Once we move on to the next place on your

tour, the scenario will be entirely different."

"And it could turn out that my—lord—picks a

magician who can't cut it," I added my own oar, trying

to sound as though that possibility in itself made it

worth taking a chance. "All right, I'll agree to give it

a try, and if the try doesn't work I'll go for the swap.

As long as there isn't some rule or regulation against

swapping."

I looked at Velix as I said that, daring him to even

hint there was, but all I got was a headshake and the

suggestion of a smile of amusement. I thought that

would be the end of the subject, but someone else

turned out to have a question.

"Now that the point's been mentioned, how do we

pick our magicians?" Serendel asked, totally placid

and not even glancing in my direction. "I want to

make sure, you understand, that I don't pick anything

but the best available."

He gave our journey scout a very innocent smile

then, and I think if Velix had been human he would

have had to rub at his face while he coughed into his

hand. The Griddenth found Serendel amusing, but I

still didn't.

"We'll discuss the matter of choosing after you've

all rested," Velix's answer came in a familiarly bland

and innocent way, as he leaned back on his haunches

to gesture behind us with one taloned forepaw. "The

guest house right there is where you'll be introduced

to the magicians, so the stop is essential. After that

you'll plunge right into upper class society, and will

be given accommodations at the palace any time you

want them. The activities go on nonstop over there,

and you're free to go on with them as long as you feel

yourselves able. My humble advice to you is to take

full advantage of this stop to restore yourselves."

After having stressed the word "humble" he got

back to his feet and moved through our line to lead the

way into the guest house, leaving behind him the

distinct impression that he was doing all in his power to

keep from insulting us with orders rather than

suggestions. I'd never met a Griddenth before getting to that

planet, even though they'd been full members of the

Empire for more than a hundred years. If they were

all as arrogant and sarcastic as Velix, though, it was

fairly clear I hadn't missed much.

We followed our scout through the front door of the

guest house and were met just inside by two people, a

man and a woman, in the cloth outfits of the lower

class. They greeted us warmly, told us we could have

anything we wanted just by asking for it, then led us

through the large entrance room to a stairway going

up. There were a lot of lamps lit all around the room

and on the wall by the stairs, but their numbers didn't

help that much against the thick fog hanging every-

where. The guest house seemed to be made entirely of

wood with heavy leather furniture standing around

waiting to be used, but the fog turned everything into

a suggestion of itself, insubstantial-looking and there-

fore possibly unreal.

We were taken to the second floor and shown to

rooms, one for each of us and no nonsense about sharing

between lords and their ladies. The man who had

opened the room for me urged me to look around while

he got Lidra settled, and if there was anything I wanted

he would be available very shortly to supply it. The

first thing I looked at was him leaving and closing the

door as he went, wondering if his offer was really as

broad as he'd made it sound. He was definitely on the

handsome side and hadn't looked bad in his short cloth

outfit, but for some reason I couldn't generate much

interest in taking him up on the suggestion he might

have been making. I wasn't on that trip for the purpose

of having fun, and the urge to get on with it was

beginning to grow stronger than it had been.

I did take the time to look around the room, and was

unsurprised to find a fully equipped bathroom behind

one of the doors. What did surprise me was finding

my luggage behind the door that hid a closet, and I

couldn't help noticing that it hadn't been unpacked. It

seemed to have been sent along with me in case I

needed something from it, but otherwise could simply

be ignored. Since I didn't need anything right then I

ignored it. but felt a little better knowing my bodysuits

were handy if I wanted one. I was looking forward to

it not being very long before I was able to get down

to work, and that would be when I wanted one.

My temporary accommodations were moderate in

size, with a large bed opposite the door to the hall,

three leather chairs scattered around the room, the

bathroom and closet doors in the wall to the left, and

three wide windows in the wall to the right. All the

windows showed was more fog with ghost-lights

appearing here and there in it, the same sort of fog that

shared the room with me, the stuff I was beginning to

get tired of looking at. I went to the bed and sat down

on it, wondering what you were supposed to do during

that rest time if you didn't feel like resting. The bed-

cover seemed to be svalk, comfortable but not terribly

interesting even though the color was a pretty rose. I

lay down on it for a while, counted wounded minutes

dragging themselves by, then finally sat up again. Even

more lame time limped past, possibly a year or two,

and then a knock came at my door.

"Who is it?" I asked, wondering if it was the man

who had brought me to the room, coming back to

reoffer his suggestion in case I was bored. I still wasn't

interested in that sort of a distraction, but I needn't

have worried. The door opened to admit Chal,

carrying what looked like a blue flame in a small, round

copper dish, and when he closed the door behind him-

self he turned to face me with a grin.

"Isn't this the wildest thing you've ever seen?" he

asked as he came toward me, sounding like a little boy

with a brand-new gadget toy. "That woman is the most

brilliantly creative person I've ever met, male or

female. I can't get rid of the delightful feeling that I'm

in the middle of a children's adventure book."

"If we end up getting caught doing the wrong thing,

I doubt if you'll have trouble losing the feeling," I

commented, trying to be as specific and yet obscure

as it was possible to be. I didn't know why he was

suddenly acting as though we didn't have to watch

what we said, but it didn't seem wise to go along with

him in it.

"Oh, you don't have to worry about anyone over-

hearing us," he said as he sat at the foot of the bed

opposite me, just as though he'd read my mind. "As

long as this flame stays blue, there aren't any listening

devices operating near us and we can speak as we like.

If anyone tries eavesdropping with nothing but ears,

they'll find our conversation is too low for them to

hear. If the flame suddenly turns orange, though, we'd

better be fast about finding something innocent to dis-

cuss."

"That's one of Lidra's devices?" I asked in surprise,

finally understanding what he'd been talking

about. "It doesn't look like anything but a plain

copper bowl, and a small one at that. How can it do all

that?"

"You're asking me?" he came back with a snort of

amusement, giving me a wide grin as he set the bowl

down between us. "When it comes to electronics, I

know nipping the switch up turns it on and down turns

it off. If it doesn't have an on/off switch, which this

doesn't, I usually ignore it entirely. That saves me

from having to admit how far beyond me it is."

"You and me both," I muttered, leaning forward a

little to peer at the bowl and the blue flame it held.

"Isn't it too hot to just set down on svalk like that? If

we start a fire, we'll have to explain how it happened.''

"It isn't hot at all," he said, still enjoying whatever

my expression must have been like. "No matter how

real it looks, that flame isn't a flame, and it isn't

burning. I had to put my hand in it before I believed that,

but there's really nothing there. Go ahead and try it

for yourself."

"I'd rather take your word for it," I denied, sitting

straight again. "With the way my luck's been going,

I'd probably find out it only burns females. How did

Lidra smuggle something like that in here?"

"She simply tossed it into her luggage," Chal said

with a chuckle, leaning back against the padded foot-

board. Serendel had complained about having trouble

with the skirt of his costume, but even leaning back

Chal wasn't having the same. "She tells anyone who

asks that it's an ashtray for puffers, and even has the

puffers to prove she indulges. She isn't anything like

an habitual smoker, but every now and then she has

one. She brought it to my room to explain how it

works, then suggested I show it to you."

"Your being here is her idea?" I asked with brows

high, finding myself distracted at last from the copper

bowl and its nonflame. "After the offer you made me,

that's about the last thing I would have expected her

to do. Is she trying to show how broadminded she is,

or that she doesn't really care?"

"Neither," he answered with a good deal of satisfaction,

folding his arms as he looked at me. "You

had to be told there was a way to speak freely when

we had to, and I had something to pass on that I didn't

want overheard. That made it my place to come in

here, but not with company. If Lidra had come with

me without our inviting Serendel to join us, it wouldn't

have looked right. And if the time comes that you want

to speak to one or both of us in private, just make

some comment about puffers. We'll get the message

and be with you as quickly as possible."

"Puffers," I acknowledged with a nod, certain that

he knew he hadn't really answered my question. "And

what was it you felt you had to pass on in private?"

"I wanted you and Lidra to know about some of the

things I brought along to help us," he answered, his

expression now more businesslike. "According to

what Velix said I expect us to be offered a lot of

partying, and there's no reason for us to arouse suspicion

by refusing to join in. If there's a lot of drinking going

on, for instance, I can give you something to take

beforehand to keep you sober no matter how much you

swallow, or I can give you something afterward that

will sober you up in about fifteen minutes. If we have

to stay awake for long periods of time you have the

same choice, something to keep you awake, alert and

refreshed, or something to make you that way when

you're dead on your feet. We'll be smartest eating as

much as we can as often as we're able, but if for some

reason provisions become unavailable, I can take care

of that, too. In addition to those I also have a good

supply of pain-killers, antibiotics, sleep-assists, and

the like, and all of it's compatible with the biosphere

around us. My initial research made sure of that, but

I double-checked with the entrance officials here just

to be on the safe side. We may need to take time to

recover from the strain afterward, but for the short

time we'll be using the compounds, we should sustain

no lasting physical damage."

"And you brought it in as your own medication,"

I said with another nod, remembering when he'd

mentioned it to the Customs officials. "I hadn't expected

something like that, and I have to admit I'm

impressed. Do you happen to have something to take

against the possibility of sudden, extreme nausea?"

He frowned briefly at that, at first taking the question

seriously, and then he understood what I meant.

"I'm realty sorry you've decided you'll be feeling

that way with Serendel," he said, his light eyes

examining me soberly. "I still don't really understand

what went on between you two, or why you refused

to accept his apology."

"What went on was that he tried to con me, and

apologizing for something like that is never more than

an extension of the con," I said, turning to stand a

thick pillow against the headboard for me to lean

against. Chal had been polite enough not to put his

curiosity as a question, which meant I didn't mind

answering what he hadn't asked. "I also don't like being

done favors, and that's what Serendel's attention feels

like to me. The big man has graciously decided to give

the little girl a giant thrill, but the little girl isn't

interested in buying. The man who raised me taught me

that people who grant you favors aren't worth

knowing; only the ones who are willing to exchange favors

think of themselves as dealing with equals rather than

doormats."

"I really do think you're misjudging Serendel," he

said with a sigh, shifting a little against the footboard.

"I'm willing to bet more than one of the top fighters

are like that, but I don't think he is. If I'm right,

though, you'll probably find it out for yourself. The

man you mentioned, the one who raised you—he

sounds like an extraordinary person."

"He was," I said, smiling just a little at the memories

all the ruthless killing in the Empire couldn't

destroy. "There was a time right after my mother died

that I pretended Seero was my father, taking the trouble

to raise and protect me even though he didn't want

to acknowledge me. He wasn't my biological father,

but by the time I was able to admit that to myself, it

no longer mattered. He proved himself my father with

everything he said and did, and the fact that we shared

no common blood made it better than if we had. He

didn't have to take care of me, he wanted to; if that

didn't make him my father, nothing in the universe

including blood would have."

"I see I was right about him being extraordinary,"

Chal said with a smile, and then the smile faded. "I—

don't quite know how to ask this without insulting you,

but there's something I've been very curious about. If

the man who raised you was so special, and everything

you've said confirms that—how did you end up in the—

unusual—occupation you've reportedly become so

good at?"

"That must be the most tactful way of putting it I've

ever heard," I said with a grin. finding his open

embarrassment amusing. "Seero told me right at the

beginning that there were two kinds of people: those who

would understand what we were doing, and those who

wouldn't. He said I'd know which were which by the

way they approached the subject, and damned if he

wasn't right as usual."

"I hope that means you think I'm one who would,"

he said, a wry expression showing that was probably

the result of my grin. "I really meant what I said about

not wanting to insult you, so if you'd rather not talk

about it all you have to do is say so. On the other hand

my curiosity is close to killing me, so ..."

"... so why don't I save your life by giving you

a chance to understand," I finished for him with a

chuckle when he just let the last word trail off. "It so

happens I do think you're the type to understand, but

I also think you have the right to make up your own

mind about it. Let's start with the way Seero first

explained it to me, when I asked him why he took things

rather than working for them the way my mother had.

I was very young at the time, and he knew I wasn't

judging or criticizing, only asking."

"Just the way I'm doing," Chal put in, abruptly looking

very virtuous despite the amusement in his eyes.

"Yes, just the way you're doing, sweetheart," I

agreed with the sort of oil you use on a child when

you think it's too young to understand it's being

patronized. Chal winced and held his hands up in

surrender, admitting defeat and letting me go on.

"Seero took me out onto the dining terrace, sat me

down with a soft drink the two of us shared, and then

told me gently that the Empire wasn't the fair, just

place everyone liked to pretend it was. There were

people who worked hard for what they had and others

who tried to take those things away from them, but

not all of those who took were arrested, tried and put

in a cell. Some were too clever or competent to be

caught by the police, but by far the largest number of

them bought their way out of trouble. Some did the

buying with the jobs they held, as politicians or judges

or maybe even as police. Others used part of the money

they stole to buy themselves out of trouble with politicians

or judges or police, using what they took to

keep themselves in a position to take even more. The

honest police couldn't touch them because the honest

police had to work within the law, and it was almost

impossible to have them do that and still expect them

to get anywhere. That made the bad people think they

were something special, that they had the right to keep

stealing from innocent people and getting away with

it. Seero said he didn't blame them for thinking that,

but he didn't agree."

"Don't tell me that's who you took from!" Chal

said with sudden delight, sitting up away from the

footboard. "You and he went after the crooks who

stole and got away with it?"

"Yes, but it's not quite the virtue you're trying to

make it sound like," I answered, smiling only faintly

at his enthusiasm. "No matter who the targets of our

stroking were, it was still stealing and against the law.

We ended up being responsible for quite a few of the

supposedly untouchable getting caught, because when

we cleaned them out we forced them to go back to the

well before it was really safe, thereby setting them up.

We even helped put the skids to small Twilight Houses

on behalf of larger Houses, to keep the small-fry from

growing up and carving out pieces of their own territory.

But that, Chal, doesn't mean we weren't stealing.

It only means we stole from those who had no

legitimate claim to what they had. Seero refused to

start training me until I proved to him I understood the

point. We might have been stealing only from scum,

but if we'd gotten caught we would have been the ones

who ended up in a cell."

"If you ask me, you were both making too much of

the point," he said, and damned if he wasn't acting

stiff-necked and offended on Seero's and my behalf-

"If the law can't touch somebody, does that mean

they're entitled to get away with what they do? No

matter who gets hurt? I don't happen to believe that,

which is one of the reasons I'm here right now. The

S.I. isn't as helpless as planetary officials are, and I'll

bet they don't think you did wrong, either."

"Don't make bets you can't afford to lose," I told

him, remembering what that S.I. man Filster had said

to me. "Most people can't be bothered with differentiating

between one thief and the next, and you can't

really blame them. Stealing is stealing, no matter how

well you justify it. Seero and I simply felt that what-

ever ends we accomplished made the rest of it worth-

while; I'm just glad you're one of the few who agree."

"Damned right I agree," he huffed as he leaned

back again, still touchy but beginning to calm down.

"People who take advantage of the helpless set their

own rules for the game, and have no call to complain

when others play by those rules. If they're as helpless

before you and the man who raised you as others are

before them, who could have the gall to say it's

unfair? And—ah—I think I've been very insensitive. It's

only just come through to me from the way you were

speaking— The man Seero is dead?"

"Yes, he's dead," I said, looking down away from

Chal to keep the whole thing from flooding over me

again. Every time I met someone I liked, my first urge

was to drag them home and introduce them to Seero,

to let them see for themselves how wonderful he was.

Even after almost a year, I still hadn't learned not to

do that. Somehow I didn't think I would ever learn not to.

"Inky, I'm sorry," Chal said, and the tone of his

voice was compassion rather than pity. "I didn't mean

to bring the pain back to you, not for the sake of

nothing but curiosity. I can see I should have kept my big

mouth closed."

"No, Chal, it wasn't your fault," I said, looking

back to his very serious face and forcing a smile. "You

couldn't have known, and talking about it just helps

to remind me that it's all being taken care of. But I've

also been reminded of something else, and since we're

into asking each other openly direct questions I'm

going to repeat one to you: why didn't Lidra mind your

coming here to talk to me alone?"

"I never said she didn't mind," he corrected me, a

faint look of satisfaction suddenly back on his face. I

didn't know if he realized I was changing subjects on

purpose, but he didn't seem reluctant to cooperate in

the effort. "What I said was that Lidra understood why

she couldn't come with me and suggested that I come

alone, not that she didn't mind staying behind. But

that's not all she was bothered by, only I didn't see it

until she came to my room."

"She isn't as happy about the swap as she expected

to be," I guessed, positive that had something to do

with it. "She thinks Serendel might not be attracted to

her, and she doesn't want her idol yawning in her

face."

"Inky, Lidra's not like that at all," he protested,

moving around again where he sat, his expression now

faintly hurt. "She knows Serendel is too much of a

decent person to do something like that to her, and it

isn't even the fact that she knows he prefers you. When

she came into my room she was so quiet I almost didn't

recognize her, and although I could see she really

didn't want me coming in here alone, she forced her-

self to tell me I had to. We all have a job to do, and

Lidra knows that has to come first."

"Then what could her problem possibly be?" I

demanded, sitting up away from the pillow. "I thought

she was jealous over the offer you made, but what

you're describing doesn't sound like jealousy."

"I'm hoping it's better than jealousy," he said, and

now he was back to grinning faintly, a definite twinkle

in his light eyes. "I have a feeling the first part of

Lidra's problem is that she isn't quite as—eager—to

have sex with every acceptable male in sight as she

pretends to be. It wasn't until she realized I was

seriously attracted to her that she let me come closer than

arm's length, and just between the two of us, I'm not

very used to that. I may not be a fighter like Serendel,

but I seem to attract women almost as easily as he

does. When Lidra told me she wanted children I agreed

to father at least one of them, but nothing was

discussed about any sort of relationship beyond that, and

I never told her I didn't want her getting involved with

Serendel. I didn't have the right to tell her something

like that, especially not without specific agreements

between us."

"But—then. I don't understand at all," I protested,

really feeling confused. "She kept insisting she would

do just about anything to get Serendel into bed, and

now that she practically has him there she's trying to

turn and run the other way. And why isn't she at least

faintly annoyed that you offered to swap her for me?

More than once I had the impression she was looking

at you like private property."

"I think she realized she hasn't done anything to

give her the right to look at me that way," he

answered, and again that satisfaction was there. "I'm

convinced she didn't offer anything in the way of a

relationship because she's been hurt in the past, quite

a few times, and didn't want it happening again. I

thought she understood how deep my interest in her

goes, but now I can see she's been deliberately letting

it slide right past her. And I didn't swap Lidra for you;

I swapped Serendel for me, and that Lidra does understand."

"I'm glad someone's following what's happening,"

I muttered, leaning back on the pillow again to give

him what I like to think of as a baleful stare. "What's

the difference who got swapped for whom? We're still

talking about the same swap, aren't we?"

"Oh no, we're not," he came back, grinning at my

annoyance. "Lidra realizes I used the opportunity of

a near-crisis to not only smooth things over for you,

but to also give her what she kept insisting she wanted.

I don't think anyone's ever done that for her before,

and I'm certain she didn't expect it to be done this

time either. She's been very careful to maintain the

attitude that says there's nothing between us but an

agreement to make a child, all the while loudly

exclaiming how acceptable she found Serendel. I'm sure

she does consider him acceptable, but only in a

distant, biological way."

"You mean she kept drooling out loud over Serendel

because she never expected to end up anywhere

near him," I said slowly as the light finally came,

distantly knowing Seero would have understood a good

deal sooner. "And she barely glanced in your direction

because you were right there and closer than arm's

reach, able to hurt her badly if she showed the least

sign of interest going deeper than plain sex. Now she's

trapped because Serendel and I aren't getting along,

and she may even be put into the position of having

to sleep with him. Chal, you have to do something!

Hitting her with a problem like that just isn't fair."

"You have to remember how unfair a place the

Empire really is," he answered with a smile for the way

I was sitting straight again, then held up a hand to cut

off the immediate protest I began. "Inky, Lidra

certainly does have a terrible problem, but it's nothing I

can help her with. If I work very hard and manage to

convince her I want her on a more permanent basis

than the one she's offering, she may come around to

agreeing to go along with it, but she'll never really

believe it. She has to decide on taking one last chance

of letting her own feelings out, and give me the chance

to respond to them. That way she'll be able to accept

what I'm offering, and won't ever have to wonder if

it's the truth. If I don't make her do that, then we'll

never have anything worthwhile between us."

"Worthwhile," I echoed, wondering how so

innocent-sounding a word could be responsible for so many

difficulties. "And just what do you consider that to

be, Chal? What is it you want happening between you

and Lidra?"

"I want us to make a life together," he answered

very simply, his warm, happy smile turning him even

more handsome than usual. "I've always found it very

convenient having so many women attracted to me; it

gave me the chance to look carefully for the one I

wanted. I was certain I would find her some day, and

when I met Lidra I knew that some day had come. We

share so many pastime interests we might as well be

the same person, but our major career paths are so

widely separated that one can never intrude on the

other. Since she's as brilliant in her field as I am in

mine, our children will have the potential of being just

about anything they please. Our house can have two

labs, one for her, one for me, and I'll never have to

worry about her coming into mine to 'straighten a

little.' There are all sorts of benefits in marrying a highly

intelligent woman, and that's just the best of them."

By then he was grinning at me, the joke he'd made

trying to turn the situation funny rather than touching,

but I couldn't see it that way. His intentions seemed

like the most wonderful thing I'd ever heard, the son

of romantic drivel you laugh at in books, but can't

quite laugh at in real life. I found myself envying Lidra

instead of feeling sorry for her, as it seemed fairly

clear that Chal had no intentions of letting her get

away. I spent a very short instant wondering what that

would be like, and then I smiled at him.

"I hope it works out the way you want it to," I told

him, and I was sure he could see I wasn't just saying

that. "I suppose I'd also better hope now that it doesn't

come down to my having to swap Serendel for you.

That would just make things harder all around."

"Not at all," he said with a continuing grin, beginning

to get back to his feet. "The swap might be just

the thing to push Lidra past that blind spot of hers. If

she wants my attention while not having to give anyone

else hers, she'll have to talk to me. I'm sure she

feels about me the way I feel about her; all I have to

do now is get her to admit it."

"All," I repeated with a laugh, watching as he

retrieved the copper bowl with its blue fire from the bed.

"I'm glad my end of this three-way partnership is the

easy one; the only thing I have to do is get us into a

place people don't want us getting into. Security

systems are a lot easier to get past than emotional

defenses."

"You may be right, but emotional defenses are all

I'm equipped to handle," he answered with a chuckle,

then sobered just a little. "And speaking of emotions,

if Serendel wasn't truly sorry for his misjudgment in

his conversation with you, he ought to leave the arena

and take up acting. He was trying to make associating

with him easier for you by evoking faint pity first and

then humor, but you reacted in a way he wasn't

expecting. He said if he'd known you had the soul of a

female glad, he wouldn't have worried about your

being afraid of him."

"Well, he's right about my not being afraid of

him," I said with a snort, leaning back against the

pillow again. "As far as the rest of it goes, though, I

don't want associating with him made any easier.

Bottom line is, I don't intend associating with him at all.

There's the faint possibility I may have to sleep with

him, but that doesn't mean I have to talk to him."

"Inky, don't make the mistake of offering him a

challenge," Chal warned, now completely serious.

"He ignores that son of thing from noncombatants,

but he seems to have classified you differently. If you

annoy him too badly, you may find him reacting in the

mental set that makes him a very successful fighter. If

you find you need to talk about that or anything else,

Just come to my room. Lidra is next to you on the

right, I'm beyond her, and Serendel is beyond me.

Right now, I'd better get back to where I belong."

I nodded to show I agreed he'd already been in my

room long enough as far as possible suspicion went,

and once he was gone I was able to look down at my

hands without being bothered by someone who had

obviously studied the mental sciences as well as the

biological ones. I didn't feel uncomfortable, exactly,

most certainly not where that big fool Serendel was

involved, but I didn't quite understand what Chal had

meant when he'd said the fighter had classified me as

other than a noncombatant. I didn't like the sound of

it any more than I liked the man himself, and snorted

out loud at the thought of how solicitous he'd been of

my feelings. I wasn't afraid of him or anyone, and if

I had to prove it there on Joelare the way I had on

Gryphon, I would.

I sat up to lay the pillow flat, then stretched out,

wondering in annoyed impatience Just how long a time

we'd be wasting in "rest". If it turned out to be too

long, they'd find themselves in possession of a com-

plaint they couldn't simply gloss over. Having a guest

dying of boredom was very bad press, and if they knew

what was good for them they'd try hard to avoid it.

Chapter 9

Our rest time was long enough for me to fall asleep

for a while, which didn't turn out to be as unwelcome

as I'd thought it would. When I woke I had enough

time to stretch comfortably while I considered getting

up, and then soft, pleasant music began playing in the

room. The music went on only long enough to wake

me if I'd been asleep, and then a woman's voice

announced that my presence was requested in the dining

room downstairs at my earliest convenience. Once the

voice had stopped I wondered very briefly what they

would do if I simply turned over and went back to

sleep, but I was only curious, not interested in trying

to find out. I yawned and stretched a second time, then

got up to use the bathroom.

As expected, even sleeping in the svalk costume

hadn't wrinkled it, so all I had to do was throw a little

cold water on my face and brush my hair, and then I

was ready to go. The hall outside my door was

deserted when I walked out into it, and I couldn't help

noticing how eerie the fog made everything look.

There had been just as much fog inside my room, but

there had also been a lot more light and the presence

of windows. For some reason having fog around when

there were also windows was less disturbing, but I

hadn't any idea why that should be. I raised my head

a little to show the fog I wasn't afraid of it either, and

then moved deliberately through it toward the stairs

leading down.

When I reached the lobby it was also deserted, but

a glowing sign hanging in midair showed an arrow

indicating the dining room somewhere off to the left

around the staircase. I walked through the fog into the

next room, expecting it to be just as empty as the

lobby, but found instead that the next hovering arrow,

still pointing left, also indicated a group of people.

Our trusty journey scout Velix stood between Chal and

Serendel, talking to them as he indicated four men

seated in large, ornate wooden chairs which stood side

by side in front of the wall the two men and Velix

faced. The seated four had long white hair and beards,

eyes which glittered even from where I was, and wore

ankle-length, long-sleeved robes that glowed even

more strongly than the lights and signs around us.

None of the four looked at the men who were

examining them, instead gazing straight ahead while resting

their arms on the chair arms, and as I came up behind

those who were observing them I was able to hear

what Velix was saying.

" ... are the ones you'll be choosing among for

your personal magicians," the Griddenth told the two

men, sounding very firm. "Whether or not there are

others available makes no difference at all, lord

Serendel. These four are representatives of the available

talent, and it's up to you gentlemen to each choose the

one you think will serve you best. You may each ask

one question of any two of them, and then you must

state your choice. Since lord Serendel got down here

first and therefore gets to choose first, lord Chal may

ask his questions first."

"That's your idea of giving me a break?" Chal said

with wry amusement, his eyes still moving among the

four who were seated. "How am I supposed to know

what to ask them?"

"You're supposed to ask them questions which will

tell you whether or not you want their protection,"

Velix answered, less wry and more amused. "Look at

them carefully, remember what their purpose will be,

and then choose two to question. I can't be any more

specific than that, or it won't be fair."

"I'd consider it fair," Chal came back in a way that

made Serendel chuckle, and then he shook his head.

"Well, if I have to, I suppose I might as well get on

with it. You said to ignore the fact that they don't

seem to be paying attention, and simply address the

one I want to talk to? All right, then I'm addressing

you, sir, the gentleman on the extreme left. Who's the

most powerful magician among you four?"

"I am," the man addressed answered, sounding

considerably younger than his appearance suggested.

He'd answered without hesitation, but he hadn't even

glanced at Chal.

"Since I don't get to choose first, maybe I shouldn't

have asked that question," Chal said. looking to his

right at Velix with raised brows. "What do I do now?"

"I would strongly suggest asking your second

question," the Griddenth answered, now apparently even

more amused. "You don't get involved much with

game playing, do you, lord Chal?"

"I don't have the spare time most of it requires,"

Chal said, suspecting the Griddenth was trying to tell

him something, but not knowing what. "I can't think

of anything to ask that would better my first try, so all

I can do is save Serendel the trouble and confirm what

I've already been told. You, sir, second from the left.

Who's the most powerful magician among you four?"

"I am," the second long-bearded man answered

with as little hesitation as the first, also sounding

equally as positive. He also made no attempt to look

at Chal, but this time Chal was returning the compliment.

"I'll bet I wasted both of my questions, didn't I?"

he asked Velix as he stared at the Griddenth, sounding

more excited and enthusiastic than depressed over

having messed up. "It didn't matter that I asked what I

did, because it doesn't help Serendel any more than it

helped me. Am I right?"

"In a way, you certainly are, lord Chal," Velix

answered, his wings moving a little with his amusement.

"At the very least, as far as your own efforts go, you

have wasted your questions. Let's see if lord Serendel

can do any better."

I joined the two of them in looking at the fighter.

but probably unlike them I was hoping he would not

do better. For his part Serendel was staring narrow-

eyed at each of the four magicians, but rather than

simply looking them over, he seemed to be searching

for something in particular. After a minute or so his

inspection ended, and a faint smile raised the ends of

that long red mustache.

"I believe you said they would all tell the truth, at

least as far as they see it," he stated to rather than

asked Velix, only glancing at the Griddenth long

enough to see his nod of confirmation. "In that case,

I'll address my first question to the one here in front

of me, on the far right. After yourself, who's the most

powerful magician in this group of four?"

"After me, the most powerful is Jejin," the man

answered at once, still staring off into space some-

where but giving me the distinct impression he was

beginning to be amused. Serendel nodded as though

he'd gotten exactly the answer he'd been looking for,

and then his eyes moved to one of the ones Chal had

already questioned.

"You, second from the left," he said, his tone a

good deal less respectful than Chal's had been.

"Which one of you four is Jejin?"

"Jejin sits beside me to my left," the man answered,

and I would have put money on the fact that

he was enjoying himself as much as the other one had.

Serendel nodded again, this time with that faint smile

he liked so much, and then he was looking directly at

Velix.

"Since first choice is mine, that's the one I want,"

he said, calm satisfaction in the decision. "The one

named Jejin, who I believe is sitting second from the

right. Do I have to do anything beyond stating the

choice?"

"No, but I'd say lord Chal is curious as to why you

did it the way you did," Velix answered, his tufted

tail flicking back and forth. "You don't owe him an

answer unless you want to give one, and you certainly

don't have to say anything until he's made a choice of

his own."

"But I can comment if I want to, which it so hap-

pens I do," Serendel summed up, then looked at his

fellow tourist. "Chal, we were told twice to look them

over, and when I finally heard the hint and followed

it, I noticed something interesting. They're all wearing

the same kind of clothes, but not the same quality.

They may all consider their own power the strongest,

but if it isn't so, which it probably isn't, how other

people see them is the most telling point. The strongest

will pull down more wealth than the others, so he

should be dressed better than them. I asked who the

second strongest was, got an answer that should have

been true, then double-checked it against appearances.

The two matched, so I made my choice."

"Damned if you aren't right," Chal muttered, this

time looking at the four magicians with purpose rather

than aimlessly. "The one you picked is better dressed

than any of the other three. And you did get use out

of my wasted questions, by realizing that they can't

be trusted to speak anything but opinion when it comes

to themselves. I appreciate the help, my friend, and

I'll use it to choose that one."

Chal pointed to the magician on our far left, the one

he'd spoken to first, the one who, after the fighter's

choice, was dressed in the best quality robe. It came

to me to wonder if that was how Uexian magicians

really had shown off their status spots, with more

material acquisitions rather than fewer, but I didn't

mention the point. My nemesis seemed to have overlooked

the consideration, and I wouldn't have wanted to bring

it up even if Velix hadn't already started going back

to his take-charge guidance.

"Now that the choosing is taken care of, my lords,

you and your ladies and your magicians are free to

have your meal." the Griddenth said, just short of

purring. "When you've finished eating I'll conduct you

all to the nearest palace and its revelries, where you'll

certainly have opportunity to test the wisdom in your

choices of magicians. If you'll follow me?"

The two designated magicians had gotten out of their

chairs to join our little group, and when Velix moved

off to the left leading Chal and Serendel, they followed

along behind. I hesitated for a moment, wondering how

Lidra was supposed to find us, then glanced around to

discover that she already had. She stood a few feet

back from where we'd all been, a phantom of a ghost

in the swirling fog, an odd, secret smile on her face

as she watched the men moving behind Velix. She

seemed more calmly amused than in the grip of the

sort of disturbance Chal had described earlier, and

when she saw me looking at her she actually grinned

and winked. If she'd had her copper bowl I would

have asked her what she found so funny, but without

it all I could do was join her in adding to the parade

behind Velix.

The room the magicians had been sitting in was

wider than it was long, and the doors in the short left-

hand wall were double with servants to see to their

opening. We sailed on through as though we had just

bought the place, and once into the next room we could

see two long tables facing one another across a space

of about ten feet. There were three heavy chairs set at

the outer sides of each table, and a servant stood be-

hind each of the six chairs. Velix stopped short of the

tables, then nodded toward the one on the right.

"That one is for you and yours, lord Serendel, and

the one to the left is yours, lord Chal," he said, his

head moving around as though he were making sure

everything had been set up right. "There will be

entertainment during the meal, but I would advise using

part of the time for getting acquainted with your newly

acquired magicians. I'll rejoin you all after you've

eaten."

He glanced at the two men he'd been talking to,

again giving them the chance to ask any questions they

might have, then moved off to the far right when they

didn't take him up on the offer. As soon as he was

gone from among us, the servants came forward to

welcome us while deftly herding us to our respective

places, and I found myself being seated first, in the

center chair of the right-hand table. Through the fog I

could see Lidra was being given the same honor at her

own table, but I still would have made a fuss if I'd

thought it would do any good. My digestion would

have been considerably improved if the magician had

been seated between me and Serendel instead of to my

left with the fighter on my right, but our hosts

obviously didn't want it like that. Since I hadn't been given

a choice there was nothing I could do but sit back in

the padded, thronelike chair and pretend I was as

comfortable as it's possible to be.

"I feel as if I'm starving," Serendel said as he settled

himself in his place, glancing at me and the magician

both. "I haven't eaten since early this morning

on the liner, not even so much as a snack in the car

that brought us here. When was the last time you and

the others got something to eat?"

The question he'd put was casual small talk, nothing

of earth-shattering importance—but also nothing the

magician could be expected to answer. It looked like

the companion who had been forced on me was trying

to break the conversational ice, but that sort of thing

isn't hard to get around.

"We all had a snack during Customs inspection," I

answered without even glancing at him, then turned

my head to the magician with a smile. "How long has

it been since the last time you were chosen to be the

protector of a visiting House?" I asked as though

really interested. "And are you truly as pleased to be

included in on this meal as you look?"

"I'm delighted to be included in on this meal, and

as soon as they bring out the food you'll understand

why," he answered in a light and easy voice

accompanied by a return smile, apparently all through with

staring off into the distance. "As far as being chosen

as a protector goes, I'm picked at least as often as any

of the others, but rarely for so—distinguished—a

House. I may be putting my foot in it by saying this,

but—am I wrong in thinking you don't agree with me

about how much of an honor it is?"

He was examining me with guileless, light blue

eyes, waiting for an answer to his admittedly bald-

faced question, most of his expression hidden behind

that long white beard. I really wasn't much interested

in going into detail on my dissenting opinion, but

someone else proved more than happy to jump in for me.

"The lady feels I insulted her," Serendel supplied

in the same calm and easy tone that he'd used earlier,

drawing the magician's gaze. "All I thought I was

doing was soothing the nervousness many women feel

in my presence, but apparently she doesn't see it like

that. She's decided I insulted her on purpose, and isn't

interested in hearing any statements to the— Ah, here

comes the first of the food.*'

He interrupted his own story to watch the approach

of four tray-bearers, three carrying tureens and tiny

cups and spoons, the fourth carrying nine empty bowls

and nine regular-sized spoons. The tureen-bearers put

their burdens down on the far side of the table opposite

us, paying no attention to the golden cloth covering

the table, and with the help of the servants who stood

behind our chairs, we very quickly had three tiny cups

standing in front of each of us, samples of the different

sorts of soup which had been brought. As other servants

came by to drop off baskets of more kinds of

bread than I knew there were, the servant who had

been carrying the bowls stepped in front of the three

soup-men.

"Gentles, please taste our offerings and indicate

which of them you find most pleasing." he said, per-

forming a general bow that was apparently meant for

us all. "Should you find two or even three equally as

pleasing, simply instruct your personal servant to fetch

you some of each. Three or none, the choice is, of

course, yours."

He bowed again before going back to his tray, and

the annoyance I'd been feeling with the fighter sitting

next to me spread to cover the Mists people almost as

thickly. Giving us soup before offering anything more

substantial wasn't too obvious a ploy to cut our appetites

for and possible consumption of more expensive

dishes, and that idea was a perfect kicker to

Serendel's attempt at showing just how unreasonable

I was being. If I hadn't realized just how hungry I was

I would have ignored the soup samples the way I was

still ignoring the fighter, but the smells coming out of

the three tiny sample cups were just too good to resist.

I knew I had to taste all of them. and then I might be

able to get back at Velix's bosses by refusing all three.

After tasting the samples, the best I could do was

settle on just one of the three. I couldn't remember

ever tasting soup that good even at the very expensive

resorts Seero and I had visited over the years, but I

wasn't ready to admit I might be wrong about the scam

the Mists people were trying to run. Seeing the chilled

fruit and cheese and even more hot baked goods added

to our table let me stay suspicious, but once they began

bringing out the meats and vegetables and

gravies—and wines—I decided I might be wise dropping

all thoughts of a scam. We were urged to try as much

of as many different dishes as we liked, and despite

the soup I found I wasn't reluctant to go along with

the suggestions. I felt as though I were eating ten times

more than I ever had in my life, but I enjoyed every

bite without also feeling that I was about to explode.

When I finally finished I was most aware of satisfaction,

that and the impression that I was now prepared

to get on to other things.

"That has to be the best meal I've ever eaten,"

Serendel announced once his wine glass had been

refilled for the twentieth time, a pleasant nod of thanks

for the servant who had poured. There hadn't been any

conversation while the food had held our attention, but

there had been music as well as dancers who spun

gracefully between the tables. The dancers had been

mostly female, which was probably why I'd had the

opportunity of noticing how little the magician had

eaten in comparison to the fighter. Our bearded friend

hadn't been shy about helping himself, but even my

capacity had been greater than his. I wondered if the

difference meant anything, but couldn't think of any

way it might.

"There's never any stinting when it comes to a feast

of greeting," the magician—Jejin, that was his name-

said in answer, his own wine glass still more than half

full and close to his hand. "You won't go hungry in

any of the Mists, but this one is far and away the best.

Before the meal, lord Serendel, you were saying some-

thing about many women being nervous in your

presence. I think you understand there are certain things I

can't mention here and now, but with those things in

mind even though absent from tongue, I must confess

I don't understand why that would be. I should think

you would find it the complete opposite."

"Most people think it's the complete opposite," the

glad answered, faint amusement in the gray gaze he

rested on Jejin, his body relaxed back in its chair

except for the hand that gently swirled the wine in its

glass prison. "There are enough amateur wigglers and

hot crazies around to give that impression, but you

can't lump them in under the general heading of

'women.' They may be female, but they're not

interested in what you might want to say to them, only in

what you can do for them, in bed or in supplying

prestige. Those who can be listed under the heading of

women are capable of occasionally doing something

really unusual, like carrying on an intelligent conversation."

The dryness in his voice made Jejin chuckle, but I

was busy paying more attention to the newest dancers

performing in the space between the tables. One male

and one female they were, and their costumes were

definitely on the skimpy side.

"Yes, men of action aren't supposed to be interested

in something as unusual as conversation," the

magician agreed, his appreciation of the comment still

clear. "Some observers seem to be afraid that if they're

allowed that, the next things they might take an interest

in could be the unthinkable realms of poetry or

music or literature. I can see that, but what I can't see

is why you maintain women are nervous in your presence.

Is conversation with you considered that much

of a danger?"

"You forget it's not supposed to be conversation

that I'm interested in," Serendel returned, just short

of sounding like a martyr. "A woman finds herself

face to face with me, suddenly remembers all those

things everyone 'knows' are true about people like me,

and that's the end of any chance at conversation. Calm

friendliness changes so fast to nervous tension that

you'd need an open lens to catch the action, and all

because they're afraid I won't be able to keep from

attacking them."

"And men say women aren't perceptive," I murmured

to myself, still keeping my eyes and attention

on the dancers. I knew I shouldn't have cut the hook

from the dangling fishing line, but the temptation had

been too heavy to resist. I was supposed to have been

filling up with pity for the poor little misunderstood

fighter, but it hadn't quite worked out that way. I

understood him better than he knew, and if he decided

to argue I could always cite Chal as my authority.

Rather than argument a lot of silence came from my

right, and then there was a throat-clearing sound from

my left.

"I beg your pardon, my lady, but are you saying

you agree with those who judge from nothing but idle

gossip?" Jejin asked, his tone a good deal more

diplomatic than his words. "Were you afraid lord

Serendel would attack you before you and he began

arguing?"

"I was never 'afraid' of anything in connection with

lord Serendel," I came back, shifting in my chair as I

glanced at the bearded man in annoyance. "It so hap-

pens I don't believe in being afraid of things, or people

either for that matter. If all your friend wanted out of

me was a little conversation, why was he so interested

in choosing the strongest magician available? Is that

what 'lords' win in this section of the Mists, the right

to talk to the lady of their choice?"

"If that's what would please them most," Jejin began

to say in counterargument, making it sound no

more than reasonable and to be expected, but that was

as far as he got. A sound like the hissing of vexation

through teeth came from my right, and then I had

unexpected support on my side of the disagreement.

"The lady is absolutely right, Jejin," Serendel said

in what was nearly a growl, drawing my attention as

well as the magician's. "All I want from her is the

use of her body, and that's what I intend getting. What

do I have to know or do, to be sure no one succeeds

in claiming her from me?"

"You have very little more to do than has already

been done," the bearded man said with the faintest of

hesitations while I glared at the miserable beast of a

fighter. "If you're challenged by another lord, you

simply order me to protect what's yours. If my powers

are stronger than those of the magician I go up against,

you win. If they aren't, you lose."

"Can't you tell beforehand which of you is

stronger?" the fighter demanded, completely ignoring

the way I was looking at him. "Haven't you been here

long enough to have been tested against most if not all

of the others?"

"It doesn't work that way," Jejin answered, shifting

just a little under the cold gray stare he was getting.

"The magicians here come in grades of ability,

and if your original choice is someone from the lowest

grades, you might as well give up the idea of winning

against anyone of higher ability. If your choice

brings you someone of high ability, that in itself should

guarantee success in most cases. The only time difficulty

arises is when your challenger's magician is of

the same caliber as your own. There's always uncertainty

when two master magicians face one another,

so the meetings are usually governed by pure chance.

But that's a circumstance covering the meeting of

equals, which only happens occasionally. It really isn't

worth getting too upset about."

By that time the bearded man's voice was nearly

trembling, and the sweat beaded on his forehead wasn't

being caused by the closeness of the room. He was

obviously required to tell Serendel just what he had

been telling him, but what the fighter wanted to hear

was how he could win, not the reasons why he might

lose.

"Then maybe we can find something I should get

upset about," he said in that same near-growl, his eyes

refusing to turn Jejin loose. "That list of grades we

were just discussing—on what part of the list does your

name appear?"

"I—I'm the strongest magician of them all," the

man mumbled in the faintest of voices, close to being

terrified at having to give an answer that was obviously

required of him. Serendel's head went up when he

heard it, those gray eyes growing even colder, but I'd

had enough of that nonsense.

"Stop it!" I snapped to the fighter, the anger in my

voice enough to finally get his attention. "Can't you

see you're not supposed to find out how good or bad

he is until after the first challenge? And where the hell

do you come off giving him a hard time? It wasn't his

idea to be chosen, it was yours! If you're mad at me

and looking to start a fight because of it, start the fight