Trickster

CHAPTER NINE

The parade was enormous, with elephants. Kendi leaped and capered and skipped, sometimes tripping over his enormous purple shoes and landing flat on his face, to the great merriment of the assembled crowd. At the very front of the parade marched Valeta Kalopolis, her long dreadlocks piled under a tall red hat. She wore the traditional scarlet tuxedo of the ringleader, and she often twirled her gold-topped cane like a baton. Behind her came a pair of elephants. Old-fashioned flat signs on their sides spelled out "Kalopolis Intergalactic Traveling Emporium of Wonders" in large, important letters. Then came Kendi, mixed in with a group of a dozen other joeys that included Ben and Gretchen. Ben was made up as a sad-looking hobo while Gretchen sported a fluffy green wig and a bright blue smile. Kendi wouldn't have thought that Gretchen would make a very good clown, but she was making a surprisingly fine job of it. She skipped and waved and at one point blew up a long, thin balloon. With a few expert twists, she transformed it into a dog, handed it to a small child, and continued on her way.

"I didn't know you could do that," Kendi murmured to her.

Gretchen waved cheerily at the crowd, her face unrecognizable under white and blue makeup. "There's a lot you don't know about me."

Kendi grinned and decided to lose himself in his current role. Hidden beneath the bright, happy makeup, he could pretend that his family wasn't imprisoned, that he didn't have a slaver imprisoned on his ship, even that the Despair had never happened. His only purpose was to make people laugh and forget their troubles like he was forgetting his.

Behind the clowns hovered a broad platform on which acrobats of three different species-none of them human-performed graceful gymnastics. Horse riders came next, leaping on and off steady equine backs in their bright, glittering costumes. A short, squat humanoid who bulged with muscle performed feats of strength while an animal trainer herded a troop of house cats. Calliope music from a real calliope hooted cheerful music. Acts and riders stretched farther back than Kendi could see down the wide street corridor. Even the crowd itself was a riot of color and species that almost rivaled the Emporium itself. Pnebran, the gallery curator, had been correct-the idea of a circus was something almost all species seemed to enjoy. The whole thing was glorious.

And then he caught sight of Edsard Roon. The man was standing, face rapt, in front of the crowd with his wife Annalies and three pale children under the age of ten. Kendi stiffened, then caught himself and waved as if they were any other family in the crowd. The Roon children were quieter than the ones around them, almost subdued, and they didn't dive for the candy Ben tossed their way. Kendi felt a little sorry for them as he passed.

The Emporium wound its way through the station, passing through wealthy and poor sections alike. The poor sections wrenched Kendi's heart. The wide corridor was grimy, the buildings had few windows, and the air smelled stale. Noisy machinery clanked in the background, and small scavenger animals rustled in alley shadows. Family clusters crowded the walkways, both at ground level and above, all of them determined to get a glimpse of the Emporium. Tickets, Kendi knew, would be too expensive for almost everyone who lived here. Val, bless her heart, slowed the parade down to allow them to get a good, long look. Kendi and the joeys, for their part, worked extra hard to touch the crowd before moving on.

Just over an hour later, right about the time Kendi's feet were getting sore, the Emporium arrived at the entertainment coliseum where the circus would perform. The wide corridor dove straight into a long tunnel that opened directly into a cavernous performance arena. A trio of wooden rings made circles on the floor, and an impressive array of rigging for the flyers and acrobats made a network high above them. Rows of numbered bleachers rose high on all sides, and extra seats had been placed so luckier patrons could sit mere meters from the actual performers. People already crowded the seating areas, and more were streaming in.

The Emporium parade glittered like a dancing rainbow as it cut through the arena to a matching exit tunnel on the other side. Valeta waved, and the gathering crowd cheered. Kendi found a few reserves of energy and turned a cartwheel. Hobo Ben plodded sadly along beside him. Down near the floor in the seat Kendi knew to be A7 sat Edsard Roon, his family beside him. The children were munching candied apples. Mrs. Roon sat with her hands in her lap. Roon himself sat staring at the arena with the same rapt look on his face Kendi had seen earlier at the parade. Kendi smelled fried food and animal manure.

The elephants, followed by the group of joeys, passed out of the arena and into the performer's tunnel. The area under and behind the coliseum was a gray warren of dressing rooms, storage areas, holding pens, offices, and other facilities. The Emporium had taken over the entire thing for a week at tremendous cost. Valeta Kalopolis had groaned that she was going to lose money on this run but hadn't tried to back out of the agreement.

The elephant riders turned the animals down a side tunnel to a holding area where they would await their cue. Kendi dashed ahead of them so he could catch up to Valeta. Her scarlet tuxedo glittered with gold sequins.

"Roon's here, Val," he told her. "You remember what to do?"

Valeta turned and gave him a hard look over the golden head of her cane.

"Sorry. I worry."

"Don't," she said, and linked arms with him. "We're show people from a long line of show people, dearest. Roon won't suspect a thing."

Kendi nodded, feeling suddenly silly in his clown outfit. "I appreciate this, Val. You have no idea what this means to me."

"I'd say it was no trouble," Val replied, "except I'd rather save my lies for Roon. Keep in mind that after this"-she wagged a warning finger at him-"our debt is clearly and carefully paid. Don't even ask for tickets the next time we're in the neighborhood."

"I won't," Kendi promised.

Val squeezed his arm and left. Kendi rejoined Ben, who was waiting in a performer's alcove that gave them a view of the main ring. Gretchen had already gone down to the clowns' dressing room.

"We're all set, Ben," Kendi said. "I guess we have a few minutes to sit back and enjoy the show."

A few moments after the Emporium parade had wound its way through the arena, the coliseum went dark. The murmuring crowd quieted, and Kendi imagined Roon leaning forward with anticipation. A single shaft of light stabbed down to the exact center of the middle ring. There stood Valeta Kaloplis, resplendent with her top hat and cane.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" she cried. "Children of all ages! Welcome to the Kalopolis Intergalactic Traveling Emporium of Wonders!"

The crowd cheered its enthusiasm before the echoes died away. Kendi's mouth, however, was dry and his gaze wandered toward Roon.

"Before we begin our performance," Valeta boomed, "I wish to inform you that everything you see here is absolutely real. The Emporium uses no holograms, no anti-gravity generators, no genetically altered animals or people. The only concession we make to modern times is to use a sound amplification system so that everyone can hear. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, can you hear me?"

The crowd cheered again.

"I said, 'Can you hear me?' "

Wilder cheers.

"Then let the show begin!"

Performers burst into the arena. A trio of riders leaped lightly on and off the backs of six horses that cantered steadily around the first ring. Two identically dressed clowns stood on opposite sides of a full-size empty mirror frame and duplicated each other's movements. A bare-chested humanoid with scaly orange skin and hulking muscles put a set of strange-looking animals through their paces in the center ring. Kendi, who remembered circuses from his childhood in Australia, found the entire scene a wonderful mix of Earth and… other places. Still, he couldn't keep his eyes off Roon.

"He's still there?" asked Ben beside him.

"Free and clear," Kendi said. "The shit who's holding my family-and who knows how many others."

"Any more information on the plan?"

Kendi shook his head. "There will be later, I promise. Did that comm signal ever pop up again?"

"Not yet. I'll keep watching for it." Ben leaned against the wall, his sad clown face reflected in his posture. "Ken, I don't like being kept in the dark."

"I know, Ben, and I'm sorry. It won't be for long. Promise."

Ben sighed and Kendi detected a definite note of anger in the sound. Kendi firmed his jaw. He knew exactly what Ben was going through-Ara had done it to him often enough. And Kendi wanted to tell Ben everything, both to include him and to relieve the pressure that was building inside him. But Ara had pounded into Kendi's head that when it came to complex plans, the fewer people who knew what was going on, the better. Although he had chafed under this policy several times, he had also come to realize that she had been right. He wondered if Ara had ever felt this way about him and wished he could ask her.

"Kendi, is that you?" asked a familiar voice.

Kendi turned. A woman with a pretty, round face was standing behind him. White streaks shot through her long dark hair. Her skin was a little lighter than Kendi's. Beside her stood a man who was close to the woman's age, though his hair was going more silver than white. Vidya Vajhur and her husband Prasad. The two of them had been instrumental in ending the Despair, and Kendi would have lost the battle against Padric Sufur's children without them.

"Vidya!" Kendi gave her a warm embrace while Ben shook hands with the man. "And Prasad! I was wondering where you'd gotten to."

"You and Ben are hard men to find," Prasad said.

"Especially when you hide yourselves under such garish makeup," Vidya added.

"Valeta told me she'd picked you up," Kendi said, "but there was a lot to arrange and I didn't have time to come find you. Is everything all right? How are Sejal and Katsu?"

"As far as I know, they are well," Vidya said, "though I haven't spoken to either of them in some time."

"They are… occupied," Prasad added. "The Council of Irfan desperately wants both of them to join the Children, since their Silence was largely untouched by the Despair, but they haven't decided yet. The Council is very worried these days."

"About the Silent dying out," Ben said. "We're nervous, too."

"This is a worry for another day," Vidya said. "Right now we should enjoy the circus."

"Agreed," Kendi said with a smile.

The performances continued. Flyers flipped and twirled among ropes and trapezes. An animal trainer trotted out a pod of small dinosaurs from Bellerophon, and Kendi felt a small stab of homesickness. Up in the stands, food and souvenir merchants hawked their wares. Smells of hot, greasy food spread everywhere. Kendi shifted uneasily. When would it be time for- "Ready?" Val said behind him. Kendi jumped. He hadn't heard her coming.

"Gretchen's down in the dressing area," Ben said, "so we're set."

Val nodded. "One more act and we'll do it." She trotted away.

"What are you going to do?" Prasad asked. "You said you do not need us to steal Roon's key, but you have not explained why you do need us."

Kendi started to scratch his nose, remembered his makeup, and dropped his hand. "I'll tell you later. It's too complicated to go into right here."

The dinosaur trainer ended her act, and Val stepped into the ring to introduce a magician. "Once again I repeat-the Emporium uses no holograms or other special effects. Everything you see is accomplished by skill alone, and the Great Manzini challenges you to figure out how each trick is done."

Ben grabbed Kendi's arm. "He's getting up! Roon is getting up!"

Kendi gasped and wrenched his gaze to Roon's seat. Edsard Roon had indeed risen from his front-row bleacher seat and was heading for the aisle. "All life! He can't get out of his seat now. What the hell is he doing?"

"Who knows? Bathroom break?" Ben hazarded. "What do we do now? Val's going to announce his surprise once the magician finishes up."

Kendi produced a packet of enzyme cloths from one of his capacious clown suit pockets and ripped it open. Roon reached the aisle and headed for one of the smaller exit tunnels used by spectators.

"I've got to get him to sit back down," Kendi said. "Ben, you try to signal Val, see if she can stall one more act's worth."

"I can't," Ben said. "Manzini uses her in his act."

But Kendi had already fled. He shed his clown outfit as he ran, dropping shoes, wig, nose, and baggy suit. Underneath he wore normal clothing. Several swipes of enzyme cloths rid his face of makeup, and he prayed he hadn't missed any. His heart was jerking around in his chest. Roon had to get back into his seat or everything would be ruined. Kendi dashed along the hallways, cursing the maze that made it difficult to figure out which way to go. Roon was probably heading for one of the bathrooms, but which set?

Other performers filled the hallways, forcing Kendi to dodge and weave. At one point he snatched a glittering silvery scarf from an assistant animal trainer. "Emergency!" he shouted back over his shoulder. "I'll return it, promise!"

He left the performers' area and entered what he hoped was the main spectator corridor. With shaking hands he twisted the scarf into a turban. Sloppy, but it would have to do. He pelted down the corridor, came around a bend- — and halted. Roon had emerged from a restroom and was turning to head for a souvenir stand. A light crowd of people kept him from noticing Kendi right away.

"Mr. Roon!" Kendi called, and dashed ahead to catch up to him.

Roon turned, surprised. "Mr. Qiwele. So you are here." He shook Kendi's hand in a hard, dry grip. "I want to thank you for this. It's everything I love about the circus. Marvelous!"

"You're welcome," Kendi said. "But why are you out of your seat, sir?"

"Needed a short break. And the collector in me won't let me leave a souvenir stand untouched. It's all part of the experience." He looked at Kendi's throat. "Is that clown makeup?"

Kendi clapped a hand to his neck. Dammit! "It is," he admitted. "I shamelessly exploited my connections and arranged to march in the parade with the other joeys. Great fun, that!"

"I thought one of those clowns looked familiar," Roon said. "But you said you always wanted to be a lion tamer."

Kendi forced a laugh. "I can fool a crowd into thinking I'm a clown. I doubt I could fool a lion into thinking I'm a trainer."

"Too true," Roon said with a laugh of his own.

Through the tunnels came the faint sounds of applause. A man's voice boomed, "And now for the grand finale!"

"But you'll miss your surprise," Kendi cried. "Good heavens, man, it's going to be announced any moment. Any moment! You are sitting in seat A7, aren't you?"

Roon looked at him. "The show's more than half over. I thought perhaps you weren't able to-"

"It's all arranged, sir!" Kendi pushed him with comic severity back to the audience tunnel. "Quickly! You have no idea the trouble I went through. I can't allow you to miss this! Remember-seat A7. Hurry!"

Roon turned and said, "Then I thank you again. Really, Mr. Qiwele, this is too much. You must come for dinner some time. How about tomorrow evening at nine?"

"I would love to come for dinner," Kendi lied, "but I don't remember off-hand if I'm free. I shall call you."

Huge applause and cheers burst through the tunnel. Kendi suppressed the urge to drag Roon back to the bleachers and plunk him down on the seat. Roon shook Kendi's hand one more time and finally-finally — turned back to the arena. Kendi watched him go, praying that nothing else would go wrong.

"And now," shouted the ringmaster, "we have a special event."

Edsard Roon picked his way up the narrow walkway between bleachers and sat next to his family with a nod. They didn't respond. Mrs. Roon and the children hadn't spoken much since the performance had begun. Not even Janni, the youngest, kicked his feet or whined. Edsard's little section of bleacher was blue with "A7" painted on it. It wasn't that comfortable, but he had refused to bring any kind of cushion or pillow that might interfere with the authenticity of the experience. And a gloriously perfect experience it had been so far.

In fact, it so far had been a gloriously perfect day, exactly what he'd needed to take his mind off the Collection and its assorted problems. The Children of Irfan were involved now, and that made Roon nervous. He didn't like leaving Todd on board their ship and was beginning to regret not ordering security to simply grab the entire vessel. However he did have to admit that Todd had had a point, self-serving though it was. Todd could prove to be an effective mole, and if Roon played everything right, those busybody monks would walk right into his Collection.

"I hold here a bucket of chips," Valeta Kalopolis was saying. "Each chip has a seat number painted on it. The person whose seat I draw will receive a special treat-the chance to come backstage and be made up as a clown for the final act in the show. Are you ready?"

More cheering. Edsard's mouth fell open and every thought about the Collection fled his mind. This must be Qiwele's surprise. He had arranged for the ringleader to call out seat A7, no matter what chip she drew. Connections, indeed! Edsard's childhood dream would at last come true. Qiwele was a genius, a prince among men. He would have to give the man a gift of some kind, perhaps even one of the Wimpales. After all, Edsard had five of them and Qiwele had done so much for- "I do hope they pick me," little Janni said to his sister Mietje. His voice was so low, Edsard was surprised he had heard it. He was also surprised to hear such a thing coming from Janni. The child had shown no interest in the circus before, not the same level of interest Edsard himself showed, at any rate. Indeed, Ruurd, the oldest boy, and Mietje both didn't seem to care one way or the other. But Janni's pale eyes were bright with hope as he perched on his bleacher. Edsard frowned and played idly with the key chain that hung around his neck. Fatherhood wasn't his strength, and Edsard generally stayed out of the children's lives. After all, he had primarily decided to have them in order to complete the family picture, make himself seem more stable to Silent Acquisitions and a likelier candidate for promotion. The children were Mrs. Roon's bailiwick and he left all the decisions regarding their care to her.

But now a bit of paternal interest stirred. He remembered seeing his first circus with his own father and the utter enchantment the performance had wrought. Was Janni going through the same thing?

Perhaps Edsard owed it to his own father to find out.

"And our winner is-" The ringleader stared down at the chip she had drawn and paused for effect "-seat A7!"

Another cheer went up. On impulse, Edsard grabbed the startled Janni and hoisted him aloft. "That's my son!" he shouted. "The seat belongs to my son!"

Clown Ben spun around from his position at the dressing room door. "He's coming, he's coming!"

Kendi ducked behind a wall hanging. Originally he'd planned to take part in this stage, but Roon would recognize him even in clown makeup, so he had been forced to leave it in the hands of Ben and Gretchen.

The room was long and narrow. A series of dressing tables with lighted mirrors lined one of the walls and racks of costumes lined the other. Silly props and floppy shoes were scattered everywhere. The whole place smelled of cloth and makeup. Gretchen, still in her clown costume, had already laid out a makeup case at one of the mirrors and stood at the ready. There were no other joeys in the room-Valeta had arranged for privacy. Vidya and Prasad were, Kendi presumed, still watching the show.

"Hold it!" Ben whispered. He was peeking around the door frame again. "He has a boy with him. God-it's his son!"

"His son?" Gretchen echoed. "What the hell?"

Kendi's stomach lurched. Why was Roon bringing his son?

Valeta entered the room, leading Roon and a pale boy who looked about five or six. Kendi, who had tailed Roon and his family countless times, instantly recognized Janni Roon.

"Moogoo, Bobo, this is Mr. Edsard Roon," Val said gaily, though Kendi could hear the strain in her voice. "And this is Master Janni Roon. Janni is the winner of the clown drawing. Can you make him up, please? I have to get back to the ring."

In a flash Kendi understood what had happened. Roon had decided to hand his prize over to his son. He gritted his teeth. Kendi hadn't counted on Roon being anything but a self-serving bastard. Obviously that wasn't entirely the case. A harsh lesson to learn, Ara would have said. Now what?

Roon was pumping Val's hand. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Kalopolis. A true pleasure."

Val nodded to him and, with a parting glance at Ben and Gretchen, vanished out the door.

"Well, Janni," Gretchen said slowly, "why don't you have a seat here and we'll get to work. How do you like the idea of being a clown for day?"

Janni didn't answer. He just looked up at Gretchen with shy, pale eyes.

"I think he's too excited to talk," Roon said with a smile. "Should he remove his shirt?"

Ben started to speak, but his voice cracked. He cleared his throat and tried again. "Yes. Here, Janni, we'll hang it up just like this. How do you like the show so far?"

"It's great!" Janni said at last. "Are you a real clown?"

"I sure am," Ben replied. "I started up when I was about your age."

"What do I have to do out there?"

"It'll be really easy. All you'll have to do is ride the elephant and wave."

Janni squirmed with joy. "I get to ride an elephant?"

"Sure do. Now, what colors would you like for your makeup?"

He set to work spreading a white base over Janni's face. Gretchen, meanwhile, pulled a data pad out of her pocket and called up a text file on the holographic screen. Kendi stared at Janni's thin chest. It was supposed to be Roon who took off his shirt. But Edsard Roon was standing nearby, shirt still on his body, key firmly out of reach. Kendi bit his lower lip until he tasted blood. The entire plan stood in ruins. He had dragged the Emporium halfway across the galaxy for nothing. There had to be a way to get that key here and now. But even if Kendi could think of a plan, there would be no way for him to implement it. He wanted to punch Roon in the face and take the key by force.

Maybe that was the solution. Maybe once Janni had left, Kendi could knock Roon over the head and hold him prisoner on the Poltergeist with Isaac Todd. If Roon couldn't alert the Collection that he had lost his key, the Collection wouldn't know to- "Mr. Roon," Gretchen said, interrupting Kendi's chain of thought, "I'll need you to sign this waiver of liability. Just a formality, but you know how it goes." She held out the data pad to him.

"Of course, of course," Roon said, not taking his eyes off Janni. "Not a problem." He moved to take the pad.

"Oh! Wait a minute." Gretchen took the pad back before Roon could touch it. "God, what was I thinking? We can't do this. Mr. Roon, your son is a minor. He can't go out into the ring by himself, and he certainly can't ride an elephant."

Janni, whose face was almost completely covered in white base by now, twisted in his chair to face her. "I can't? Why not?"

"What do you mean?" Roon said.

"It's a legal thing on SA Station," Gretchen replied vaguely. "We can't have unaccompanied minors ride animals on the arena floor. Too dangerous."

"You'll be with him, won't you?" Roon said. "And Ms. Kalopolis said I'd be able to watch from the sidelines."

"Ms. Kalopolis doesn't have the legal background I do," Gretchen countered. "And I double as legal counsel for the Emporium. I'm afraid the other performers can't act in loco parentis in these circumstances. Station regulations. I looked them up before we docked."

"But I want to be a clown," Janni said, his eyes filling with tears. "I want to ride the elephant."

"Sorry, kid," Gretchen said. "It's just impossible. You can't go out there alone."

"What if I went with him?" Roon said suddenly.

Kendi held his breath.

"What do you mean?" Gretchen asked.

"What if I went along? You could dress me up as a clown, too, and we'll both ride the elephant. It'll solve the whole problem."

Gretchen paused, then shook her head. "Won't work. Union rules, you know. And we only advertised one clown winner per show. I don't want the Emporium to be brought up on charges of false advertising."

"Aw, come on, Bobo," Ben said. "We can't disappoint this kid. Who's going to know if we don't tell anyone? No one'll even recognize Mr. Roon here, so the union won't say anything. Have a heart."

"Please, Ms. Bobo?" Janni quavered. "Please?"

Gretchen paused, as if thinking it over. Kendi clenched his fists.

"Well… all right," she grumbled at last. "But I'm adding a gag order to this waiver. Sign here."

With a grin, Roon scribbled his signature with the stylus and set the pad back in Gretchen's gloved hand. She set it carefully aside and turned to Roon. "Let's get that shirt off, then, Mr. Roon. We'll have to work fast if we want to make the final act."

Still grinning and no doubt gloating that he was about to both have and eat his cake, Roon complied. The key glittered on the chain around his neck. When Gretchen reached for it, however, he snapped a hand over it.

"I can't take this off," he said. "That's non-negotiable."

"Not a problem," Gretchen soothed. Kendi saw her slip another hand into her pocket. "But I do need you to close your eyes so I can do your lids. Don't open them unless you want a makeup pencil in your cornea. Ready?"

Half an hour later, Ben led the new clowns, one tall and one short, out of the dressing room and down to the elephant bay. Both Roons were chatting excitedly. The moment they were out of earshot, Kendi emerged from behind the wall hanging.

"Gretchen, I could kiss you," he said, and swept her into a hug instead. "You were brilliant."

"All right, all right," she said gruffly, though there was a note of pride in her voice. "Put me down before Ben sees you and gets jealous."

Still laughing, Kendi obeyed. "Where's the copycat? I'll take it and the data pad back to the ship."

"Right here. And don't touch the pad without gloves on or you'll ruin Roon's prints. Put it in this bag."

Kendi obeyed, then looked thoughtfully at the doorway. "You know, we made Roon's fondest dream come true, and he's the biggest bastard in the universe."

"Then we'll do our best," Gretchen replied, "to turn it all into a nightmare."

The coughing fit doubled Bedj-ka over so fast, he almost smacked his forehead on the dinner table. Harenn quickly swallowed a spicy mouthful of minced lamb and set her flat bread down. The galley was empty at the moment. Kendi, Ben, and Gretchen hadn't returned from the circus yet, and Lucia was deep in some kind of meditation in her quarters, leaving Harenn and her son the run of the ship.

"Are you all right, my son?" she asked with concern.

Bedj-ka stopped coughing and reached for his water glass. Before he could get it to his mouth, he sneezed. Water sprayed everywhere.

"Bedj-ka!" Harenn said. "Are you ill?"

"I'm okay," he mumbled.

"That is not what 'okay' sounds like." She slid around to his side of the table and put a hand on his forehead. It was warmer than Harenn would have liked. "Do you feel sick to your stomach? Dizzy? Tired?"

"I'm okay, Mom," he insisted. "I'm not sick."

"I will determine that. Do you want to finish your supper first, or should we visit the medical bay now?"

"I'm not sick," Bedj-ka insisted again, though his argument was weakened by another wet sneeze. "You don't need to put me to bed or pray over me."

Harenn, halfway through the act of rising from the table, halted. "Pray over you?"

"I didn't do anything wrong, did I?" His voice was thick, as if he were about to cry. Confused, Harenn sat down again and put an arm around him.

"Bedj-ka, what is the matter? Tell me what is wrong and we will try to fix it."

"I'm sick… because… because I sinned," he gulped. "But I don't know what I did. Was it the books? Or that I got mad at Sister Gretchen?"

A slow, angry burn started behind Harenn's eyes. "Bedj-ka, is this what the Enclave taught you? That sickness is punishment for a sin?"

He nodded up at her, his face a picture of misery. She hugged him hard, wanting to lash out at these people who had done this to her son. How could they teach such a dreadful thing?

"You are sick because you encountered a virus," she said, forcing her voice to remain steady. "No other reason. And here is what will happen. We will go down to the medical bay. I will run tests to determine the structure of your pathogen. I will make you an anti-viral. By morning, you will be well again."

"I will?" He sounded startled.

"Indeed. And I will hear no more nonsense about sin making you-"

" Harenn, are you there? " It was Kendi's voice. She tapped her earpiece.

"I am here, but a bit busy. Is this important?"

" Sorry to interrupt, but it is. We got Roon's key with him none the wiser. I need you to have Todd drugged and ready to talk by the time I get back because we need more information about the Collection's security procedures. And then we need to have a… conversation." He gave further instructions, and Harenn had to force herself to listen. Bedj-ka waited, his silence puncuated with the occasional cough and sneeze.

"I will have everything ready," Harenn said when Kendi finished. "Though I must also examine Bedj-ka. I think he's come down with a virus."

" Poor kid! Is it bad or can he wait until we're done with Todd?"

"I will have to run a viral analysis for Bedj-ka to determine his treatment, so it would be better if we took care of Todd first."

" Then I'll come down directly. "

"Bedj-ka, I want you to wait in our quarters until I call you," Harenn said. "And then we'll have a long talk about stupid people and stupid beliefs."

The hazy fog cleared from Isaac Todd's mind so abruptly it felt like he had fallen to the medical bay bed. He stared up at the white ceiling above him and felt slightly chilly, as he always did after one of these interrogation sessions. Oddly enough, he didn't feel any fear. Every other time the bitch's dose of hypnoral had worn off, he had come out of it feeling like he had just awoken from a horrible nightmare. This time, however, he felt clear-headed and awake. He was about to say something when he realized people were talking.

"… do you want something like that?" It was Harenn's voice.

"Because the best way to steal something is to convince the current owner that he doesn't want it anymore. Once you do that, he'll give it to you outright — or sell it to you cheap." The speaker was the leader, the Father whose name Todd hadn't managed to catch. "In this case, we need to convince the Collection that my family are worthless."

Todd froze. Didn't they know he was lying within earshot? Obviously not. Or maybe they didn't care. No. It made no sense for them to discuss plans like this where Todd could hear. So why were they doing it?

The answer, when it came, was obvious. Harenn had screwed up. The dose of hypnoral she had given him hadn't lasted as long as it was supposed to. Maybe he was building up a tolerance for it after all this exposure, or maybe she had accidentally under-dosed him. In any case, it was obvious that Harenn and the Father didn't know he was awake and listening. He shut his eyes to keep it that way.

Mr. Roon was going to love this.

"So you're going to make them sick," Harenn said.

"Something like that," the Father said. "If you get your hands on some gelpox virus, can you weaken it so that it won't make them too ill?"

"Easily. I can buy gelpox right here on the station. How do you intend to infect them?"

"Someone will have to get to the kitchen and put it in the food. Once our patients get moved down to their medical facilities, Ken Jeung will test for the virus and find it."

"Gelpox is a minor illness," Harenn pointed out. "The Collection will not try to rid itself of your family for that."

"That's why we need access to Jeung's medical database. We make a few changes to his computer so that when his scanners find gelpox, they'll say they found something more serious. Like Selene's disease."

"Not readily contagious, but deadly within two years."

"Right. Why spend resources on someone who's going to be dead soon? Silent Acquisitions policy states that slaves who have outlived their usefulness go into a pool for cheap sale. We just watch for them and make a quick buy. The main problem will be getting inside the Collection to change the computers. We've only got three more days before we have to leave."

"What about the others?"

There was a pause. Todd held his breath and kept his eyes firmly shut.

"Others?" the Father asked.

"The rest of the Collection. All of them were kidnapped, stolen away by force or guile. This plan saves your family but it leaves the others in bondage."

A sigh. "We went through this with Sejal before the Despair, Harenn. The Children can't save everyone. The resources just aren't there."

"That doesn't make it right to leave the others behind." Harenn's voice held a righteous indignation that Todd remembered well from their marriage. He had hated it then and he definitely hated it now. He almost felt sorry for the nameless Father, who was currently on the receiving end of it.

"There isn't anything I can do, Harenn," the Father said. A pleading tone had entered his voice. "Now that we know about the Collection, maybe the Children can send another task force later to get them out. But we're just one tiny group here, and I'm not a miracle worker."

"Ara would have tried."

"Low blow, Harenn. Besides, you don't know that she — "

"Stop. Isaac will wake any moment now. We'll discuss this later."

"No, Harenn," Father Nameless said tiredly. "We won't."

Todd lay still and tried to breathe normally. He heard Harenn approach his bed and he became acutely aware of the slightly stiff sheets beneath him, of the little current of cool air from the nearby vent, of the smell of cooking oil on Harenn's skin. His heart beat fast. Todd was afraid of Harenn, and he hated himself for it. He fervently wished he could go back in time and stop himself from marrying her, no matter what price he had gotten for… what had she named the kid? He couldn't remember. Not that it mattered now anyway.

"Is he awake?" Father Nameless asked. "We need to get him back in his room."

"I judge he has approximately thirty seconds left. Perhaps forty-five."

Isaac silently counted to thirty-eight and stirred. He opened his eyes and saw Harenn looking down at him.

"It is time to return you to your quarters," she said. "Now."

"What did you ask me about this time, Harenn?" he demanded as he always did.

"Nothing of importance to you," she replied. "But I suspect you will… enjoy the memory of your dreams."

He didn't speak as she accompanied him back through the maze of blue corridors to his tiny, boring room. The slave band around his wrist prevented him from running, though he desperately wanted to. They had almost reached his quarters when a boy who looked to be eight or nine years old dashed up to them. He had dark hair and eyes that matched Harenn's, but his face… Todd blinked. The boy reminded Isaac of holograms of himself taken when he was young.

"I got tired of waiting, Mom, and the computer said you were here," the boy blurted. "Are you ready for me in medical yet?"

"Leave us," Harenn snapped. "Go down to medical. Now!"

"Who's this?" the boy asked, and coughed. "The guy in the room? Rigid!"

Todd took a chance. "I'm your dad."

The boy's eyes bulged and he backed away. "Are you going to cut my throat?"

"What? No. I-" A wrenching shock made him gasp and clutch at the band around his wrist.

"You will be silent! " Harenn snarled. "You will not speak to him. You will not look at him."

"He's my son, too, Harenn," Todd told her.

"You gave up all rights to him when you sold him into slavery. Bedj-ka, go!"

"But I want to see-"

"Better obey your mother," Todd said. "Or she'll shock you like she does me. She likes shocking people, son."

"The only thing that is stopping my knife, husband," she hissed in his ear, "is the possibility that we might still need you. If you speak to him again, you will die, no matter what orders I am given. Is that clear?"

When she took her hand from his mouth, he said, "Perfectly clear." He staggered to his feet — Harenn offered no assistance — and added, "You call me a monster, Harenn. How is what you're doing to me any different?"

"I care nothing about what you say, Isaac." She nudged him forward. "I do not let the words of one who sells children into slavery bring doubt to my mind."

"Maybe you don't," he said without disguising the relish in his voice. "But what about Bedj-ka? I wonder what kind of bedtime story he'll ask for tonight, wife."

She shocked again, but it was worth it. And when he was back in his tiny room again, he made himself wait an entire hour before contacting Edsard Roon.

Kendi could see the trouble on Bedj-ka's face the moment the boy entered the medical bay. Automatically, he said, "What's wrong?"

"That guy you've been keeping in that room?" Bedj-ka replied. "I saw him with Mom in the hall. He said he was my father."

Bedj-ka nodded. "Is it true? Mom didn't deny it."

A dozen lies rushed through Kendi's head. He could say it wasn't true, that Todd was a prisoner of war, that Todd was a pathological liar. He could simply avoid the question and let Harenn deal with it. After all, he was her son.

But Kendi was captain of the ship, and that made Bedj-ka's relationship with Todd Kendi's responsibility, in a way. Besides, Kendi knew Harenn well enough to predict what she would tell him. Perhaps he could spare her a little pain.

"It's true," Kendi said. "His name is Isaac Todd, and he's your dad."

"Why didn't anyone tell me?" Bedj-ka demanded, then coughed hard.

"We didn't want you to get upset," Kendi replied. "It's still true that he sold you into slavery when you were a baby, and we didn't want you to be afraid he would do it again."

"You should have told me." Bedj-ka's tone was belligerent. Kendi sank down onto a rolling stool so his head was lower than the boy's, and let his arms hang limply at his sides in a non-threatening gesture calculated to avoid provoking further anger.

"Maybe we should have," Kendi admitted, voice quiet. "Sometimes adults make mistakes. But we figured you'd already been through so much. I mean, I remember how confused I was when Ara freed me. We didn't want to make things more complicated for you than they already were."

"He said Mom shocks him a lot. He said Mom likes to shock people for fun."

"That's not true," Kendi said. "I've known your Mom a long time, and she doesn't hurt people for fun." Only when she has a reason, added a wry voice in his head. "I think he was trying to make you angry at her by telling lies. Bedj-ka, I know this is hard and it hurts to hear, but Isaac Todd isn't a nice man. He's cruel and mean. That doesn't mean you're a mean person. You can be the person you want to be. You don't have to be like him."

"I don't care about him," Bedj-ka said. His voice shook. "He isn't really my father. He didn't raise me."

"That's right. And your mother loves you very much, no matter what anyone might say." Kendi patted Bedj-ka's shoulder. "She'll get that cold fixed right up, too. I'll even bet she won't make you do what I had to do when I got sick on the frog farm where I was a slave."

Bedj-ka looked at him, interested despite himself. "You were a slave on a frog farm?"

"Sure was. Anyway, this one species of frog secreted a substance that was refined into an anti-viral drug. We slaves couldn't refine anything, of course, so when we got sick, we only had one choice."

"What was that?"

Kendi kept an absolutely straight face. "We licked the frogs."

"Blech! You did not!"

"Absolute truth," Kendi said.

"That's disgusting!" Bedj-ka said just as Ben walked into the medical bay.

"What is?" he asked.

"Kendi was telling me about how he got sick when he was a slave," Bedj-ka said cheerfully.

Ben groaned. "He's not telling that atrocious frog-licking story, is he? It's completely apocryphal, you know."

"Hey!" Kendi said.

"What's 'apocryphal'?" Bedj-ka asked.

"Look it up," Ben said with a smile.

"Before you destroy the rest of my stories," Kendi growled, "do tell me you copied the logarithms into keys."

"Just finished."

"Did you trace the line from Roon's home office?"

"Gretchen did. And we got lucky — there's a hotel right up the street from his house. Gretchen's already got a room."

"Then let's go down there and get to work. Lucia should be back right soon with that clunker ship, and we have a lot to do."

Bejd-ka sneezed hard.

"But first," Kendi said, "we better get Harenn down here. Before that… thing happens."

"What thing?" Bedj-ka said.

"I don't want to worry you," Kendi said seriously.

"Oh, god," Ben muttered.

"Worry me about what?"

"Well… back on the farm there was this one slave I used to work with who sneezed so hard, a big chunk of brain flew straight out of his nose. It landed in a pond and the frogs ate it. I had to cut them open to get it back."

"Disgusting!" Bedj-ka howled happily.

"You're going to do him more damage than the Enclave," Ben said.

Keith bent his head and Dreamer Roon himself dropped the Beta medallion around his neck. Dreamer Roon boomed, "All praise the Dream!"

"All praise the Dream," shouted everyone. Martina mouthed the words but didn't say them. Keith's face beamed with pride, an expression shared by the six other new Betas on the stage. Martina and the other Alphas, along with their Deltas, knelt on the tiered floor, exactly as they had done the first day Dreamer Roon had addressed them.

She put the thought on her mental list of Confessions- I doubted Dreamer Roon's teachings. Impure! — and went back to telling herself it wasn't real. She could get out of here. She would get out of here, and she would take Keith with her. A while ago-Martina couldn't measure time in days or hours anymore-she would have thought this impossible, but Martina now had something that might allow her to pull it off.

Martina had a keycard.

She surreptitiously touched the palm of her left glove. The little square of plastic was still there. She had spotted it on the floor on her way to this very ceremony. Most slaves learned a certain amount of sleight-of-hand in order to pilfer small treats or hide forbidden objects, and Martina was no exception. With a false grunt of annoyance, she had bent over to scoop the object up, then told her questioning Delta that her slipper hadn't been unfastened after all, so sorry for holding up the group. Her yellow robe had no pockets, but she had folded her hands together inside her sleeves and worked the little card into her glove for safekeeping.

Martina was dying to examine the key more closely. Did it work solo? Or did it work in conjunction with a print or retina scan? No, it had to work solo. She had seen the Deltas use keycards to access computer terminals and open doors, and they hadn't used any other scanners. Their prints, after all, were covered with gloves, and retina scans would take too much time for daily tasks like opening doors, especially since the Deltas all wore hoods or wimples that half-hid their eyes and would get in the way of a scanner. A security weakness, but a necessary one-the Deltas couldn't risk one of the Alphas touching them skin-to-skin by accident and learning they weren't Silent. This was Martina's chance, she knew it. The only problem was figuring out how best to use it.

"You are closer than ever to touching the Dream without the taint of drugs," Roon was saying on the stage. "And let your progress serve as an example to your former compatriots. I know it gets difficult, dear Alphas, but believe me when I tell you that it will one day be worth every moment of discomfort and tribulation. I enter the Dream whenever I wish, with no trancing, no drugs, and no time limits. You can be free, as I am. As these new Betas are close to becoming. As you will be."

Martina tried not to shift. Her knees ached, though not as badly as they had on that first day. Hours spent kneeling had hardened her to that simple discomfort. What she wanted more than anything was to grab Keith's hand and bolt for the door, and the thought filled her with unbearable restlessness. She called upon years of meditation exercises to slow her breathing and bring a measure of calm. At least she didn't have to keep her eyes down anymore. Roon had decided that the Alphas were no longer too impure to gaze upon his face.

"For the immediate future, Betas, you will continue to labor side-by-side with your former Alpha compatriots," Roon continued. "But your bodies are more pure, so you will receive even better food and more sleep."

"Soon we will begin the next stage of your training," Roon said. "Some of you will be selected to raise the next generation of Silent. You will be paired with an appropriate genetic match, though there will be no impure sex. Insemination will be artificial. However, a selected few Alphas, women who are particularly impure, will be partnered with me so that my body can show yours the way."

A small ripple of emotion moved through the kneeling Alphas, quickly silenced by the Deltas. Martina stared, and her stomach wrenched itself into a knot. Was she hearing right? Either she was going to be impregnated with some stranger's child or Roon was going to rape her. Anger and fear fought for ascendency inside her.

Roon continued speaking, haranguing and motivating. The new Betas listened raptly. Martina snuck looks at remaining Alphas and guessed by their expressions and body language that despite Roon's little bombshell, about two-thirds of them were already willing followers of Roon's project and would strive to become Betas themselves. The remaining third were… less than enthusiastic. She made a mental note of these Alphas as potential allies.

After Roon's speech ended, he vanished out a side door. Alphas and Betas stood, stretched, and were allowed to mingle for a time, presumably so the Alphas could bask in the Betas' presence while the Deltas looked on. A small table to one side held munching food, though it was all finger vegetables and sugarless gelatin salad. Party voices murmured and swirled around the room. Martina managed to worm her way up to Keith and draw him aside.

"Congratulations," she said.

"Thanks," he beamed. "I hope you get here soon. I feel freer of N-waves already. And soon we'll be parents!"

Martina ignored the last comment and lowered her voice. "Remember how we talked about… going elsewhere?"

"You mean… not here?"

Martina nodded. They both had to chose their words carefully, keep their meaning vague in case the computer in their wristbands interpreted their conversation as seditious.

"Why would I want to do that?" Keith said, clearly puzzled.

Martina tensed. "You like this place, don't you?" It wasn't a question.

"I feel at peace here," he said. "They love me and they're teaching what I need to know. I have no worries here. Look, if you aren't happy, we can talk to one of the Deltas, and-"

"No," Martina interrupted. Her throat felt thick. "No, don't say anything. Please. I… I want to try working it out on my own." She forced a note of sunshine into her voice, though her heart was twisting inside her. "Besides, how could I leave a place that makes my brother so happy? I'm going to work harder. Then I can be a Beta, too."

Keith nodded happily, then winced. A warning tingle shot through Martina's body. She had been talking to Keith-a man-for too long. She smiled a farewell at him and turned away. Abruptly her gorge rose and she had to swallow hard to keep it down.

"Are you all right, dear?" asked Delta Maura, placing a concerned hand on Martina's elbow.

"I'm tired," Martina managed, and wondered how it would look if she threw up on Delta Maura's green slippers. "Is it almost ti-I mean, are we near a sleep cycle yet?"

"Soon," Delta Maura assured her. "Though the ones Dreamer Roon selects for himself won't get much sleep." She said the latter sentence like she might say she was expecting a com call. Martina swallowed hard again and took a pair of deep breaths.

"Perhaps," Delta Maura said, noticing, "I should take you back to your room a little early. Just this once."

A few minutes later, Martina lay on her bed and stared at the yellow ceiling. The door would open any moment, she was sure of it, and Roon would enter. What would he do? Speak first? Make small talk? Just yank up her robe and shove himself inside her? Martina had been a slave for most of her life, but never once had she been raped. Her Silence-and the value it added to her-had protected her from it. Or maybe she'd just been lucky. Now her luck was coming to an end. She had to get out of here, and she was unfortunately and dreadfully certain that she wouldn't be able to take Keith with her. He had already fallen under Roon's spell.

Martina wanted to cry, wanted to shout and scream and throw something. She did none of it-cameras in the room recorded her every move. So far she had located five of them while tidying her room. It was a strain to act as if nothing were wrong, step naked into the shower every morning with hungry, invisible eyes upon her.

Who else knew about this place? Martina couldn't imagine that her disappearance had gone unnoticed. DrimCom would certainly have called the police. If they had figured out where she was, they would have done something, wouldn't they? Of course, for all she knew, DrimCom had found Roon and he had simply paid them for her. No, that couldn't be. She was far, far too valuable in a post-Despair universe. A place like this had to be a secret, or else it couldn't- — couldn't function.

Martina sat up. She didn't have to get Keith out. She only had to get herself out. Once she was free, she could tell someone about this place, tell a hundred people, a thousand. The news that Roon had stolen two dozen functioning Silent would crash through the Dream like a thunderclap and bring down the wrath of governments, corporations-perhaps even the Children of Irfan. Roon would be shut down and Keith would be freed.

Now all she had to do was get out herself. She brushed the bit of plastic in her palm and thought long and hard.