Trickster

CHAPTER SIX

A triumphant roar went up from the crowd. Elena Papagos-Faye yelled with the best of them and leaned over the railing to peer down into the shallow gladiator pit, careful not to spill her drink. The person beside her, an auburn-haired man wearing a tight shirt that displayed an impressive build and tailored trousers that showed off some fine assets, pounded a fist on the rail. In the pit below, a six-legged, tank-like creature the size of a small horse finished pulling the arm off its hapless opponent. Black blood splashed over the arena floor and the opponent, a furry, fanged cross between a wolf and a human, howled in pain and fury. It bit and scratched, but claws and teeth got no purchase on the bony armor. The tank pushed the wolf creature toward a section of the floor that sat beneath a heavy metal weight. In the control booth that hovered over the pit, the losing owner shouted frantic instructions at the wolf creature, but blood loss was taking its toll and the creature's movements became jerky and spasmodic. The auburn-haired man shouted encouragement. Elena took another cold sip of her martini. The contest was thrilling, and so was the man.

For the last two days at the Pit, it seemed that no matter where she turned, the man was there-placing bets, shouting at the genegineered battle-creatures, and generally enjoying himself. She also noticed, however, that he didn't actually talk to much of anyone or seem to have any friends-at least, no friends that came to the Pit with him. He was a handsome bastard, too. His clothes and hair were immaculate, styled in the latest fashion. Elena was glad that the current mode favored tight clothes, and her own scarlet dress left little to the imagination. Elena herself was a couple centimeters taller than the man, with long black hair, dark eyes, and a longish nose.

The crowd around the gladiator pit was easily two hundred strong. About half were human. The heavy metallic scent of blood mixed with smells of fried food and spilled alcohol. Bodies pressed around the railing to get a better look at the fight below, but no one seemed to mind the crush. Elena took her eyes off the man long enough to watch the end of the fight. The tank shoved the wolf beneath the weight, triggering a sensor. The weight dropped with a crash, squashing the wolf flat. The crunch sent a thrill through Elena's blood and elicited another roar from the crowd. The man yelled again and leaped back from the railing. His elbow hit Elena's arm, and her martini drenched the front of her outfit in cold gin. She gave a yelp of indignation and brushed frantically at herself.

"Oh hell," the man said over the noisy crowd. "Geez, I'm sorry, ma'am."

Attraction turned to annoyance. "Idiot," she snapped. "Why don't you watch what you're doing?"

In the pit below, the tank skittered triumphant circles around the pit clutching the furry arm of its flattened adversary. The weight rose, revealing pulped remains, and a cleanup crew moved purposefully toward them. The crowd noise subsided into conversation and several people headed back toward the betting area to cash in winnings.

"You should go to the bar and have that taken care of," the man said. "Let me help you. Please?"

Elena's anger abated somewhat at his meek tone. She had, after all, been looking for an excuse to talk to him, and he had literally dropped one on her.

The man solicitously took her elbow. She glared at him to let him know all was not forgiven, but allowed him to lead her through an open archway behind the crowd and into the restaurant-bar. The man got the barkeeper's attention and gestured at the spreading stain on the Elena's dress.

"Cleanup, please?" he said. "And then get this lady anything she wants."

"You got it." The bartender, an enormously tall man with biceps big as footballs, caught up a spray bottle, leaned over the bar, and expertly misted the stain. It lightened, then vanished entirely. Elena's dress was perfectly dry. "What are you drinking, ma'am?"

"Oak and Ash," she said pointedly.

The man gave a small, embarrassed laugh. "Thirty-year-old scotch. I'm that bad, am I? Look, I really am sorry. Can I buy you more than a drink? Something to eat, maybe?" A wide smile spread across his face, one that made him look endearingly boyish. God, he was gorgeous.

"All right," she said in much nicer tone. "Dinner."

Elena caught up her new drink and swept toward an empty booth without looking to see if he was following her. She was already seated by the time he caught up with her and slid into the opposite seat.

"I'm Devin Reap," he said, extending his hand across the table.

"Elena Papagos-Faye." Her handshake was firm, and she pressed his hand a little longer than was necessary. Devin met her eyes with a meek little smile, then looked shyly away. Well. Gorgeous and pliable.

The restaurant kept the lights low. Its tables and booths were of dark, scarred wood. Gritty sawdust mixed with peanut shells underfoot, and a small tin pail of unshelled peanuts sat in the middle of the table. An pair of old-fashioned glass screens displayed the menu where the table met the wall. Another cheer went up from the crowd at the fighting pit beyond the arch, and Elena assumed another contest had begun.

"I really am sorry about the spill, Ms. Papagos-Faye," Devin said.

"It cleaned up just fine, Devin," she said. "Though I think I'm still in the mood for something expensive."

A pained look crossed Devin's his face. "Not too expensive, I hope. I've had a run of bad luck with the gladiators lately."

"Oh? The way you were cheering in there, I thought you must have won."

"Not really. I was yelling at the loser because he let himself get squashed. What would you like for dinner?"

They leaned over the menu screen and Elena purposefully brushed her hand against Devin's. He blushed-actually blushed — and then casually moved his hand away. Elena burned with desire. She would have this Devin and she would definitely have him tonight.

Elena ordered first-prime rib, the second most expensive item on the menu-and Devin tapped in his own order-simple baked chicken.

"Do you bet much on the gladiators?" he asked.

"Not unless I know it's a sure thing," Elena replied. "And how often does that happen?"

Devin smiled. "Not often enough. So what do you do for a living?"

"I'm a department head for a special project within SA." She made circles with her glass on the table and looked at Devin through her eyelashes. "Very hush-hush. You?"

"Accountant, but I'm an independent contractor."

Ben shrugged. "Pay's lower, but yeah-SA doesn't have its claws in me."

"Does anyone else have their claws in you?" she asked with small smile of her own.

Devin looked self-consciously down at his hands. "Not right now. You?"

"I prefer to put my claws into other people."

Their food arrived, and the inevitable small talk began. Elena found numerous reasons to touch Devin's hand or forearm during the meal. Twice her foot "accidentally" brushed his under the table. After the second or third time, Devin stopped pulling back, but the endearing blush that made her want to pull his clothes off him then and there continued to surface.

Around them, patrons of various species came and went. Regular shouts of triumph and groans of despair came from the arena. The table offered a tiny holographic display of the fights, and several times Devin looked longingly at the controls, but Elena deliberately didn't pick up on the hint and he didn't say anything. Good.

Throughout their meal, she let slip a few hints about the Collection. Nothing that would get her into trouble, but enough to impress a little contract accountant whose yearly fee was probably less than what Elena made in ten minutes. She imagined him living in a hole-in-the-wall apartment with three room-mates so he could spend his money on clothes and bet on genegineered gladiators.

"So exactly what's this project about?" Devin asked, leaning forward in fascination. "Sounds like it's big-time stuff."

"Top secret, I'm afraid," she said with a knowing wink. "But it's big. When it finishes, you'll be hearing about it in every corner of the universe. I guarantee it."

He pressed for more details like a puppy looking for attention. She allowed it until she grew tired of evasive answers and cut off further questions with a sharp retort. He immediately fell into a docile silence and Elena changed the subject. Eventually, the meal ended and Devin, once more apologizing about her dress, paid the check.

"Why don't you come back to my place for a drink?" she said, knowing what the answer would be. Already she could imagine what it would be like to have him lying beneath her, to run her hands over that hard frame, listen to him moan and beg for the release that she would give only when she was ready for him to have it.

"Oh, geez, thanks, but I… I can't."

Elena stared. "You can't," she repeated, stupefied.

"I had a great time, though," Devin said, rising quickly from the table and handing her a small datachip. "Here's a com-link code where you can reach me. I hope you'll call. I'd really like to see you again."

And then he was gone.

Elena stared after him in a disbelief laced with a dollop of avarice. No one turned her down. Not the men she chose, not Silent Acquisitions, not even Edsard Roon. Not only would Devin Reap beg to come to her bed, he would become enamored of her, fall in love with her. And then, just to show him who was in charge, she would toss him aside.

Elena Papagos-Faye pulled out her data pad, activated the holographic screen, and started a background check on Devin Reap.

"Come on, you can't keep me here forever," Todd lamented.

"You know, Isaac, the beauty of that statement is not only that it is false, but that you so clearly know it is false," Harenn replied. "I can do anything to you I like. I can hang you upside-down from the ceiling and make a thousand little cuts all over your body that will kill you only after many hours of bleeding. I can give you drugs that will drag every darkness from your head and make each one real for you. I can hire a gang of men to come into this room and beat you and rape you until you wish you had died. All these things I can do, and there is nothing you can do to stop me."

Todd abruptly lunged for Harenn, but the moment he came within a meter of her body, his silvery slave bands snapped and sparked with a blue glow. Todd fell to his knees, moaning in pain. Harenn watched impassively until, gasping, he got to his feet and backed away from her. The Poltergeist had no brig, so Kendi had put him in a set of windowless quarters that Ben and Lucia had gone over. There was nothing in the little room that Todd could use to communicate with anyone outside the ship. He had no computer access, and Lucia had installed extra-stubborn locks on the door. Todd's slave bands were programmed to shock him if he crossed the threshold or approached any member of the crew too closely. His only entertainment was a set of bookdisks. Harenn knew she should leave him alone, that solitary confinement was a terrible punishment in and of itself, but Isaac Todd was like a bad tooth. She couldn't help probing it, even though it caused her pain.

"You're a vindictive bitch," he spat.

"You made me into one, Isaac," Harenn said. She was leaning with her back against the door. "You taught me that not even love can be trusted, that anything and everything you have can be taken away at a single stroke. You taught me not to trust my own judgement. You taught me that pain and sorrow can come from any direction, even from someone who loves you. And now you are reaping the benefits of my lessons. Does that not make you happy?"

"So you just come in here to torture me?" Todd plunked down onto the tiny room's only chair. "I wonder if Bedj-ka would like seeing this side of his mother."

Harenn took a step toward Todd, and he scrambled out of the chair so he could back away.

"Ever the manipulator," she said. "Still trying to make me question myself. Still trying to make me miserable."

"Listen, Harenn," Todd said, holding up his hands in a gesture of placation, "I never set out to hurt you. It was just a business thing, nothing personal. Besides, it's not like you'd had Bedj-ka long enough to form a real attachment or anything."

Harenn's eyes flashed. "Which do you like better, Isaac, bread or cheese?"

"Why?" he asked warily.

"Because for the next several days you are going to have only those two things to eat, and a random one of them will contain a powerful emetic. Choose wisely which you consume, my husband. If you choose wrong, the results will be entertaining."

With that, she turned and left the room. Gretchen was standing in the corridor outside.

"I overheard part of that," she said, falling into step beside Harenn. "It's not healthy, you know."

Harenn bristled. "Are you going to tell me how to run my life?"

"I didn't say you shouldn't do it," Gretchen said with a wolfish grin. "Everyone needs bad habits. After seeing the L. L. Venus farm, though, I've lost my chocolate vice. Maybe I can pick up a new one torturing prisoners. Need any help?"

Harenn looked at Gretchen, uncertain whether the other woman was joking or not. "No, thank you," she said at last.

"So what are we going to do with him, anyway?" Gretchen asked. They were heading toward the galley. "No matter what you might want, we can't shove him out an airlock, and it'd be a royal pain in the ass to keep him around forever."

"I have given the matter little thought," Harenn said. "I have the impression Kendi has something in mind, but he will not say what."

"Have you told Bedj-ka who he is?"

Harenn shook her head. "And I don't know if I will. What good would it do him?"

"He may find out on his own."

"Not if I can prevent it."

Father Kendi Weaver stared at the holographic display above his data pad without really seeing it. He knew it was pointless to worry about things which were beyond his control, but he couldn't help it. He worried about what was happening to Utang and Martina. He worried about running out of time. He worried about Silent Acquisitions discovering the team's connection with the Children. He worried about the Children of Irfan fading away. And through it all, he had to keep a calm demeanor.

Kendi wasn't used to keeping his emotions under control, except when he was trancing for the Dream or playing a role during a rescue mission. The people around him usually knew when he was angry or happy, frustrated or joyful, and that was fine with Kendi. It was a trait that sometimes exasperated Ara, who often said that while forthrightness was indeed a virtue, tact and subtlety had their places as well. She had held up Irfan Qasad's famed serenity as an example. But Kendi had still preferred to wear his heart on his sleeve.

Now things were different.

Now he was in charge of a crew of people who looked to him for command decisions. He had to come up with plans and strategy, and figure out who would be the best person to implement them. He had to keep a calm expression at all times, since an agitated Father would upset his Children.

At least here in his and Ben's quarters, he didn't have to hide the fact that he was worried. A dozen things could go wrong with the current plan. Elena Papagos-Faye could figure out "Devin Reap" wasn't a real person. She might not be attracted to him, and Kendi would have to come up with a brand new angle. She might actually entice Ben into bed with her.

Kendi snorted. Absurd. Ben would never do such a thing. Sure, Kendi knew Ben had been involved with women, and he had a suspicion that one such affair had been serious. Kendi had never asked. After all, they'd been on-again, off-again for years and hadn't become a permanent couple until just before the Despair. It wasn't any of Kendi's business what Ben had done during their off-again times. But Ben wouldn't go for a woman now. The very idea was ridiculous.

Even if the woman was beautiful. And wealthy. And sophisticated. And powerful. And- The door slid open and Kendi looked up. A man with stylishly-cut auburn hair and a tight green shirt that exactly matched his eyes entered the living room. Relief flooded Kendi. He wanted to snatch Ben into a ferocious hug, scoop him off the ground, and sweep him into the bedroom. He resisted the urge. For one thing, Ben weighed more than Kendi could safely lift.

"All life, you look incredible," he observed instead. "We should turn Harenn loose on you more often. So how'd it go, Mr. Reap?"

Ben sighed and dropped onto the couch next to Kendi. "Those poor Pit animals. It makes me want to throw up."

"What about Papagos-Faye?"

"She's worse. Every time that woman looks at me, I feel like a side of beef hanging on a hook. When I turned her down, I thought she was going to bop me over the head and drag me home by the hair. God. She makes me go all cold inside." He shuddered.

"Lucia did say Papagos-Faye likes to win," Kendi said aloud. "And that she likes to own things. Between Lucia's shadowing and your computer snooping, we got a pretty good profile on her. You probably surprised the hell out of her by turning her down."

"She's already run a background check on me," Ben said, tapping the side of his head. "My implant warned me that someone checked the files I inserted into SA's consultant records. So now she knows that Devin Reap is single, has no kids, hasn't gotten any consulting work in a while, and is the sort-of survivor of a terrible disaster."

"Good. We still need her key." A wash of emotion crossed Kendi's face and he made no attempt to hide it as he glanced involuntarily toward the window. The module that housed the Collection protruded from the station wall only a few hundred meters away. He had never been so close to his family and yet still so far away. He wondered what they looked like, what their voices sounded like. It had been over fifteen years since the three of them had run through the broken streets of Sydney, but he still remembered with perfect clarity the games they had played together. Decrepit, abandoned houses became pirate ships and smuggler caves. Graffiti became sacred Aboriginal writings. Chunks of broken glass became opals of immeasurable value, treasures that needed to be hidden from the mutant whites who wanted to take them away and enslave the Aboriginal people. As children, they had no idea that Australian history would repeat itself in deep space.

"You're missing them again, aren't you?" Ben asked.

"Yeah." More emotions rose and Kendi set his jaw against them. "I want them out, Ben. And more than that-I want the bastard who brought them there punished. Todd said that the Collection was all Edsard Roon's idea, his program, his everything. I want him to suffer for that. I can't get the slavers that broke my family up, but I can get Roon. I want him to lose everything, just like I lost everything, like Martina and Utang lost everything."

"I don't blame you." Ben put a gentle arm around Kendi. "But you may have to be content with just getting them out. Edsard Roon has all of SA's resources working for him, and we only have the resources of this one ship. If they catch us in any of this, every one of us, including Bedj-ka, will quietly disappear into the recycling vats or into the Collection itself."

"I've been thinking about that," Kendi said, leaning into Ben's embrace. "Maybe we should find a way to send Harenn and Bedj-ka back to Bellerophon, get them out of the way in case something goes wrong."

"Harenn won't go for it. She still feels guilty about saving Bedj-ka first. She wants to see everything through, make sure you find your family."

Kendi sighed. Ben was right-Harenn would hate the idea of being sent back home, but to ensure the safety of her son, he should order her to go. The problem was, he needed Harenn's skills and was afraid he wouldn't be able to rescue Martina and Utang without her.

There was another factor as well. Kendi was adult enough to admit that, despite all his assurances to the contrary, he was damned angry at Harenn. He knew it was irrational, that there was no way for either of them to have known that rescuing Bedj-ka first had been a mistake, that if they had known, Harenn would have been the first to insist that they go after Martina and Utang right away. All this his head knew. The trouble was, his emotions weren't listening. Did he really need Harenn's skills that badly, or was he keeping her around out of spite? He wasn't entirely sure.

"I should go change," Ben said, letting Kendi go and starting to get up. Kendi caught his arm and stopped him.

"Why? You look amazing, Ben. Green eyes suit you. So does the darker hair. And the clothes."

Ben's face reddened but he didn't object when Kendi pulled him back onto the couch. Kendi sat on Ben's lap, facing him, and kissed him hard. Kendi felt his own desire rise. He wanted to be close to Ben, feel his body moving against his own. His hands moved behind Ben and pulled the other man closer with an ardor that surprised both of them. A maelstrom whirled around Kendi-love, desire, fear, anger, helplessness, frustration, joy. He had been holding it all for so long, and he focused everything into a single, powerful kiss. When they parted, Ben was panting.

"What's this all about?" he asked.

Kendi wanted to tell him, but it was all such a tangle that he couldn't find the words. He wanted to merge with Ben, become a single person, never be apart from him again. But all he could say was, "I don't want you to start getting ideas about Papagos-Faye."

"No fear of that."

"Let's make absolute sure."

Elena Papagos-Faye drummed her fingers on the cheap tabletop of the Pit restaurant with ill-disguised impatience. Devin Reap was a mystery, an enigma. His consultant file with SA was annoyingly brief. He had only been on the station for a few months. Before that he had worked tech for a passenger ship named the Merry Widow, but it had apparently gone into slipspace just before the Despair hit and had never come back. Devin Reap had, by sheer chance, not been aboard because he had been taking a two-week vacation. That was all. Because he was a consultant who didn't work with classified equipment or software, SA didn't keep an extensive background file on him. It didn't even list where he lived-just a com-link code identical to the one he had given her. A high-level check with Domestic hadn't turned up an address, but that wasn't uncommon-Reap was likely pirating quarters with someone. It was a common scam. SA partly based its rents on the number of people living in a given place, so two people who officially shared an apartment would one day come home to a rent hike, wiping out the main reason for putting up with cramped living quarters in the first place.

The fact that Elena couldn't learn more about Devin made him even more intriguing. Elena was someone who made her living manipulating information and data, and not having much information on this guy tantalized her. He certainly hadn't volunteered much about himself last night during their second date at the Pit.

Elena smiled, remembering. Their time together yesterday had been filled with entendres that varied from double to quintuple. They had placed some bets and cheered the gladiators together, and Elena had used the latter activity as an excuse to rub up against him in the press of spectators. Devin seemed to be receptive during the entire thing, even flashed her a shy, boyish smile when her hand stole down into a more… private area. But when the Pit closed down for the evening, he had thanked her for a fun time, given her a quick peck on the cheek, and vanished.

She checked the time on her ocular implant. He was three minutes late. This was their third date in as many nights-if you counted their first meeting as a date-and Elena had decided that tonight she would get him into bed if she had to put him in chains. And wasn't that a lovely thought? Watching those muscles of his strain against the metal, hearing him cry and beg as she held back from the one thing that he wanted. That all men wanted.

"What are you thinking about?" a familiar voice asked. Devin slid into the seat across from her in what they had already come to refer to as "their" booth at the Pit. The fights hadn't yet started, and the place was quiet.

"You," she replied. "You're late, you know. I'll make you pay for that."

"I'm sorry," he said contritely. "What can I do to make it up to you?"

His tone was absolutely serious, with no trace of innuendo. His wide, green eyes suddenly filled with tension, as if he were afraid she really were angry. God, he was so wonderfully malleable.

"I'll think of something," she murmured, and slid her foot up his calf.

He gave that shy smile that made her burn inside. "Have you ordered yet?"

They called for drinks and Devin asked her how work had gone that day.

"Well, I can't talk about much," she said. "Just about everything I do is classified over there. You know, Devin, I could probably get you a job within my project. Something on the periphery. You said you haven't been offered any work in, what, a week? Two?"

"Yeah. The post-Despair recession. There isn't much work for us independents, with SA laying off its regular workers left and right. I have some savings, but they're going fast."

"Play your cards right with me, and I can get you something more permanent. And higher paying." Elena gave him a long look over her glass. "You won't have to pirate living space with someone else anymore."

Fear filled his face. "How did you-I mean, I'm not-"

"You don't have to worry, Devin," she said, patting his hand. So her theory had been correct. "I won't tell anyone your little secret. If you keep me happy, that is."

"I'll do my best," he said, still shy. "I like you a lot, Elena. You're smart and beautiful and… and sexy." The last word made him blush furiously.

She leaned across the table and stroked his well-muscled forearm. "Then why don't we go back to my place and discuss… new positions?"

"But the fights haven't even started yet," he said. "I mean, that Leeland guy is supposed to have his new gladiator up tonight. Everyone's talking about it. And we haven't eaten yet."

He looked a little scared. Too much too fast? Elena wasn't sure. She decided to back away, get a couple of drinks into him. A little tip to the bartender would make sure his drinks contained more than the usual amount of alcohol, though she didn't want him too drunk.

"Of course," she said. "Anticipation only makes it better."

They talked about nothing in particular as the Pit filled up and the first fights began. They watched a few on the in-house holographic display, and Devin pounded the table during the good parts. Elena watched in fascination. He was normally so quiet, but the gladiator fights seemed to bring out the screamer within. She wondered if it was the same for him in the bedroom.

After their dinners arrived, Elena asked, "So tell me about the Merry Widow."

Devin paused with his fork halfway to his mouth. "The Widow?"

"Your ship," she said. "You were supposed to be on board when it left port but you decided to take a last-minute vacation instead. Lucky for you."

He set the fork down, food untasted. "Yeah. Lucky."

"Tell me about it," she commanded.

"What's there to tell?" His eyes stared across the room at nothing. "I worked on the books, kept the payroll people happy. The Widow made a regular shuttle run for passengers and cargo around the Five Green Worlds. I decided I needed a break, so I sat the last one out on Klimkinnar. Then the Despair hit and the Widow never came out of slipspace. Someone on the crew probably went… you know… and that was the end of it."

"You had a lot of friends on board," she said. "And someone special?"

"I–I don't-"

"Tell me," she ordered again.

"Yeah," he whispered, voice barely audible. "I was going to ask her to marry me when she got back. I took the vacation time so I could shop for a ring."

How cute. And trite. Elena sat back in her seat, wondering what would happen if she ordered him to get up and do a cartwheel. "That's why you're not so sure you want to get involved with me, isn't it?"

"Don't get me wrong, Elena," he said quickly. "I like you a lot. I'm just not completely sure of everything yet."

"Perhaps I can firm things up for you."

They finished dinner in time to make their way to the Pit for the new Leeland gladiator. They tried to worm their way to the railing, but the cheering crowd was simply too thick. Snarls and howls rose from the fighting arena.

"Let's forget this and go back to my place," she shouted in Devin's ear. "It's too crowded."

"I want to try again," he yelled back. "Maybe I can muscle a place up front for the two of us."

Elena made an exasperated sound that was completely swallowed up by the noise of the crowd. "I need to go to the ladies' room," she snarled.

"Okay. I'll try to get closer."

Elena headed toward the human restrooms, furious. What was it going to take? He was emotionally vulnerable, probably horny as hell by now, and thought she was sexy. It was infuriating.

She used one of the toilet stalls and headed for the mirrors to check her face. A few other women were there as well, including two who were obviously friends. Both went in for heavy rouge and eye-liner, and their hairdos ran toward big and tacky. Definitely low on the social scale. Elena was about to brush past them without a second glance when one of them said something that caught her attention.

"It's a male date rape drug," the first woman was saying. She had improbably blond hair and her dress showed plenty of cleavage. "He'll give you anything you want, and I mean anything."

"Really?" The second woman, a redhead, seemed skeptical.

"No joke. Hey, I work for bio-engineering, and this is the real stuff. It gives women a slight buzz, but it makes men both horny and pliant. Something about the Y chromosome." She held up a vial of clear liquid with a giggle. "And the stuff keeps him hard as a rock. God, honey, he'll do whatever you want, and for hours. None of this in-and-out-and-done bullshit. It's the greatest invention for women since the hands-free vibrator. You have to try it on Rick."

"It really works?"

"Oh, yeah. Here, honey. Just try it. What have you got to lose, right?"

The other women in the restroom had drifted out. Intrigued, Elena edged closer to the two friends. "Excuse me," she said. "I couldn't help overhearing. Is that stuff for real?"

The vial vanished into the blond woman's pocket. "Is what for real?"

"I heard you talking about that new drug," Elena said. "Is it for real?"

The woman's nostril's flared. Elena saw dark roots poking through the blond dye job. "Are you with Security or something? Listen, I was just joking around when I said-"

"No, nothing like that," Elena said impatiently. "Look, if that stuff's for real, I'll buy some."

"We should probably get out of here, Marlene," the redhead said.

"Is it for real?" Elena persisted. "I've got cash right here."

"It's for real," Marlene said cautiously. "I'm a secretary over in bio-enj, and one of the researchers owed me a… a favor. This stuff is so new, it doesn't even have a name."

Elena licked her lips. It would be perfect. Devin would be hers for the taking. She decided on the spot she had to get her hands on some of the stuff, whatever it was.

"I'll pay you a hundred SA chits for a dose," she said.

"No way," Marlene scoffed. "I only have two doses left. If I give one to Shirley here, that's only one left for me."

"Two hundred chits."

"Honey, you must think I'm crazy. My boyfriend's the best he's ever been when he's on this stuff, and I'm looking forward to some hot action tonight with him. It's not for sale."

"I'll give you fifty freemarks."

Marlene looked startled. "Hard cash?"

"Hard as diamonds." She held up a wad of plastic bills. Marlene eyed it with undisguised greed. SA paid most of its employees in company chits which were only spendable on SA station, and a fair number of employees discovered that their salaries weren't quite enough to make ends meet after paying SA for rent, food, clothes, and other necessities. SA rarely had problems retaining its workers, as a result. Only certain employees were able to specify a salary paid in freemarks, and Elena, of course, was one of them.

"Come on, Marlene," Shirley said, plucking at Marlene's sleeve. "I don't like this. Let's get out of here before Security shows up."

Marlene kept her eyes on the money. "It's all right, Shirl. Listen, hon, maybe I could sell you a dose but… " She hesitated and Elena forced herself not to fidget. Then Marlene shook her head. "I don't know. This stuff's hard to get, and who knows when I'll be able to get my hands on some more? Plus, my boyfriend's a real minute man, if you get my drift. I don't think I can give this up. Sorry."

The chance was slipping away. Recklessly, Elena yanked more bills from her pocket. "I'll give you a hundred freemarks. That has to be, what, a month's rent for you?"

Marlene wavered again. "I–I don't… "

"Marlene, come on," Shirley whined. "This is really making me nervous. She's gotta be Security."

"A hundred and twenty," Elena insisted. "That's all I have on me. Come on, help me out, here."

"Well… " After an achingly long moment, she finally held out the vial. Elena handed over the money and all but snatched the little bottle from Marlene's carefully-manicured hand. A thin smile crossed Elena's face. Devin would learn what it meant to say no to her, he would, indeed.

Now that the deal was done, Marlene seemed to lose her earlier reticence. "Using the stuff's a little tricky, hon," she said. "It has a strong smell, so you can't just slip it in his drink-he'll notice. You have to persuade him to take it on purpose instead. I put some in both our drinks and tell my boyfriend we'll get a little high together. It doesn't affect women much-just gives us a little buzz-but it'll be different for him, you just wait. Best part is, when it wears off, your boyfriend'll think the whole 'do as I say' sex thing was his idea."

Elena grinned. "Sounds perfect. Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Marlene said, turning back toward the mirror to examine her lipstick. "And I mean that literally."

Elena left the restroom, the tight smile still on her lips. She found Devin in the press around the Pit, obviously still unable to find a way closer to their favored spot at the railing. The little vial in her hand gleamed like a diamond. If no one will give you what you want, sometimes you just have to take it.

"I can't get closer," he complained over the noise.

She took his arm and pulled him away. "Come on," she yelled. "I have a better idea." He let her lead him away from the Pit and out the door into the street corridor. Vehicles buzzed by and the lights of FunSec glittered and swirled around them. Humans and non-humans walked, lurched, crawled, and scampered up and down the sidewalk. Overhead, the lattice of walkways swarmed with beings.

"We're going back to my place now," she said in a voice that brooked no argument. "It's time you moved on, Devin. Besides, we have to discuss your new position, remember?"

"Elena, I don't-"

" Now, Devin," she snapped.

"All right." His voice was meek again.

With a triumphant smile, Elena flagged down a cab. Men like Devin Reap wanted to be given orders, wanted to obey. She probably could have gotten him faster if she had simply ordered him to come along with her.

During the cab ride, she gave him gentle, careful caresses. The feel of hard muscle under her questing hands was an incredible turn-on, especially when she knew that soon he'd do anything she said, anything at all. For his part, Devin kept his eyes down. Once he shyly touched her knee but otherwise kept his hands to himself. When they arrived, Elena paid the driver and led Devin to her front door, which was set into an anonymous row of similar doors. She opened two locks, pressed her thumb against a pressure plate, and opened the door.

Elena, of course, ranked a great deal of space. She had five rooms to herself, all of them with extravagantly high ceilings and a wide expanse of floor. The furnishings were simple and minimal, to further emphasize this latter quality. Elena's quarters also had large windows that looked out into deep space, though she could change them into holographic scenes of anything she wished. Devin looked around, obviously awed.

"Clarence," she said, "deactivate interior security cameras."

"Acknowledged," replied the computer.

"Wow," Devin whistled. "You could put three of my apartment in just this living room."

"I'm not Head of Information Services at my project for nothing," she said. "Will you excuse me for just a moment?"

Without waiting for a response, she went into the bathroom, which was as spacious as the rest of her quarters, and removed her access key from the hidden pocket on the inside of her belt. Elena herself had written the security protocols that demanded Roon and the department heads keep their access keys on their persons at all times, and if anyone did remove a key, it had to be hidden in a secret place. Elena had no direct control over the other two department heads, and Roon had explicitly ignored her advice about not installing a Collection terminal in his home, but Elena could make damn sure her own key was safe. She certainly wasn't going to show the key to Devin, or leave it unmonitored in his presence, not even if he was about to be drugged out of his mind.

Elena opened the medicine cabinet above the sink and pressed a hidden switch. A small door in the back of the cabinet slid open, revealing a space just big enough for her key. She set it inside, closed the compartment, flushed the toilet, and went back into the living room. Devin was sitting on the couch, nervously drumming his fingers on his knees. He jumped to his feet when she entered the room.

"I was thinking," he said, "that I should probably be going. You have to work tomorrow, and I shouldn't-"

"Just stay right where you are," she said, heading for the bar and uncorking a bottle of champagne. "You can't leave without having at least one drink." She filled two glasses and dosed them both liberally from the little vial while Devin fidgeted nervously. He was so cute when he did that, so innocent-looking. Could he be a virgin? Wouldn't that be a kick!

The lighting was low, and Elena ordered the computer to put on some soft music. Then she brought the champagne flutes over to him. A sharp smell issued from the bubbling liquid.

"What is this?" Devin asked as she handed him one.

"Champagne," she said, "laced with a little something to give us both a hit."

"A drug?" he asked, looking doubtfully at the flute.

"I'm taking it, too," she purred. "It's meant to enhance our pleasure."

"Well… " he wavered.

"Drink it!" she ordered.

He gave her a wide-eyed look, then drank. In exultation, Elena emptied her own glass. The champagne had a distinctly acrid taste to it. She set her flute on the coffee table and drew an unresisting Devin down to the sofa. She kissed him, and he kissed back with tentative uncertainty. God, he was handsome. Her hands were shaking with desire. She kissed him harder. In a moment he would be hers, all- Ben backed away from Elena Papagos-Faye and waved a hand in front of her face. No reaction. He picked up one of her hands and dropped it. It fell limply. Her eyes were blank and staring beneath dark hair as she sat motionless on the couch.

Ben wiped his mouth with a grimace. He could still taste Papagos-Faye's tongue, and it seemed like her cold hands were still roving all over his body. For some reason, a memory from lower school popped into his head- — and made him snort. He wanted to contact Kendi, tell him that everything was going fine so far, but Elena Papagos-Faye had set up anti-bug screens all around her house, and outgoing transmissions were therefore only possible through her own com-link, something Ben didn't want to risk using. Best just to find the key and get this over with.

"Stand up," he said, and Papagos-Faye got obediently to her feet, her eyes still glassy. Steeling himself, Ben searched her carefully. She stood pliantly, not speaking or moving except as he moved her. First he checked for a chain around her neck. Nothing. Then he checked wrists, waist, and ankles. Nothing. The pockets of her dress contained only an SA identification holo and a small makeup kit. Ben did a more thorough search, opening her dress and searching the seams of her clothes and her underwear. He found a secret pocket on her belt, but it was empty. He even ran his hands through her hair in a strange parody of a caress. Nothing.

Ben was getting nervous now. The drug would wear off soon, and he had to find the key now. Where would it- The bathroom. She had gone into the bathroom. What if she had taken it off in there?

Leaving Papagos-Faye standing where she was, he dashed into the bathroom. Swiftly he checked all the drawers and all the cabinets. He checked the toilet and under the sink. With growing apprehension, he checked the time on his ocular implant. The drug would wear off in less than half an hour. Grinding his teeth in frustration, he checked the top of the doorsill, the top of the medicine cabinet, and inside various bottles of medicine. Nothing. The tension in his stomach grew tighter. There were a million places to hide something as small as a computer key, and it could be literally anywhere. He had been counting on her keeping it somewhere on her person, like Jeung had done.

Fifteen minutes. Ben searched through the piles of towels in the linen closet, checked the drains on the sink and tub. Nothing. He started to sweat. It had to be here somewhere if only he could- Ben smacked himself on the forehead with the palm of his hand and ran back into the living room. Papagos-Faye was standing exactly where he had left her.

"Elena," he said, "where did you put your computer key?"

"In the secret compartment in my medicine cabinet." Her voice was dreamy, just like Isaac Todd's had been when Harenn and Kendi were questioning him. "Or is it called a medicine chest? My grandmother always called it-"

"How do I open the secret compartment?"

She told him. Ben left her talking about the buttons on her dress and rushed back to the bathroom. He found the compartment, opened it, and found the key. A rush of exhilaration filled him. Quickly he pressed it against the copycat he took from his pocket. It flashed green to indicate a successful download. Ben returned the key to the compartment and dashed back to the living room. Nine minutes left. He took a small white card from a plastic envelope his pocket, pressed Elena's thumb to it, and returned the card to his pocket. Then he led Elena to the bedroom.

Seven minutes. Ben undressed her, messed up her hair, and tossed her clothing all over the room. He did the same to his own hair and clothes. Just for effect, he knocked a lamp off the night stand and tore a hole in one of the silk sheets. Then he ordered Elena to climb into bed and he lay down naked beside her.

One minute.

"Listen to me, Elena," he whispered in her ear. "This is what you're going to remember when you wake up… "

Sixty second later, Papagos-Faye blinked once, stretched languidly, and turned to look at Ben. He put an amazed and startled look on his face.

"That was… incredible," he said in a shocked voice.

"Wasn't it just?" Papagos-Faye said. "And now, Devin dear, I think we need to call it a night."

Five minutes later, Ben was staring at Papagos-Faye's front door as the locks engaged with a click. He shook his head, then touched the copycat in his pocket and walked away, whistling a happy little tune.

"How'd it go?" Kendi demanded. "Did everything work as planned? How do you feel?"

Ben plunked down onto a chair in the medical bay with a heavy sigh. It felt good to be back in the Poltergeist where the territory was safe, familiar. Kendi's presence also calmed him. Already the memory of Papagos-Faye's cold, busy hands was beginning to fade.

"Without a hitch, yes, and yuck," he said.

Kendi grinned a wide, white grin of relief and leaned over to clasp Ben in a quick, hard hug. Ben's heart swelled. Suddenly every harsh moment he had spent with Elena Papagos-Faye became worth it. A half-remembered quotation came back to him, about love being a condition in which someone else's happiness becomes essential to one's own. He understood it entirely. Kendi's happiness spread into Ben like warm gold, and in that moment, Ben would have braved vacuum without a spacesuit for him.

"You're welcome," he said, unable to keep his own smile hidden. "All right-I want my own hair and clothes back now."

"Momentarily," Harenn said. She was using an enzyme comb to carefully strip the red dye from Gretchen's hair. At one of the counters, Lucia was meticulously fluffing a blond wig that had black roots.

"You got everything, then?" Kendi asked.

Ben held up the copycat and the little card in its plastic envelope. "Key and thumbprint. The hypnoral worked just fine, and so did the antidote I took when Papagos-Faye wasn't looking. I told her to remember some pretty amazing things about me." His face clouded as something occurred to him. "What am I going to do when Papagos-Faye calls me again? I mean, you can tell people to 'remember' stuff when they come off hypnoral, but it doesn't do post-hypnotic suggestions. I couldn't tell her not to-"

Lucia laughed over her wig, a rich, musical sound, and Gretchen snorted from her chair. Harenn gave a small smile as the comb changed the last of Gretchen's "red" hair back to its usual corn silk blond.

"Benny-boy," Gretchen said, "you have a lot to learn about women."

"I dated my share," he protested.

"Three women is not a share," Gretchen said.

"Look," Ben said, flushing, "if you think-"

"Don't get your undies in a bunch. All I'm saying is that you've never dated this kind of woman, okay? She isn't going to call you back. In fact, you need to call her."

Ben shuddered at the thought. "No way."

"She's right, Ben," Lucia said. She set the wig on a stand and put the fluffing pick in a drawer. "Remember, Devin Reap is supposed to be a weak, clingy sort of guy. She'll think it strange if you don't call. I guarantee you she's already set her com-link to route your calls to her voice mail. Leave a message asking when you can see her again, and then call two or three more times over the course of a week. Sound a little more desperate each time, and I promise you won't hear a thing from her."

"If you say so," Ben muttered.

Kendi patted Ben's arm. "Hey, I don't understand women, either. Close your mouth, Gretchen."

"Did I say anything? A single word, even?"

A while later, Ben and Kendi were back in their quarters. Ben's hair, though still fashionably cut, was back to its usual bright red, and he had changed out of the embarrassingly tight clothes into his usual relaxed-looking tunic and trousers. It felt wonderful to lounge on a comfortable sofa in a quiet room instead of leaning over a hard railing in a cacophonous gladiator ring, and it felt equally wonderful to have Kendi's hands moving over his shoulders in a warm, gentle massage instead of with a cold, insistent probing.

"Did I tell you how proud I am of you?" Kendi said.

"Once or twice," Ben admitted, closing his eyes in bliss. "But you can tell me again."

"I'm very proud of you. That was great work, and we wouldn't have Papagos-Faye's key without you."

"Two more to go-Rafille Mallory and Edsard Roon." Ben paused. "Any idea how we're actually going to get in there once we have the keys?"

"Not really," Kendi admitted. "I need more information about Roon, and I'll probably have to interrogate Todd again, see if there's anything we missed. I just wish we had more time. The Poltergeist is due back at Bellerophon in only fourteen days."

"I don't like having Todd on board. What if he escapes? It'd be over for us in less time than it takes to say so."

"We're being careful, Ben. All of us. You know that."

"I guess." Ben closed his eyes, deciding not to let himself tense up during a good shoulder rub. "The paranoid part of me wonders what we've overlooked, is all. He's probably getting pretty bored and restless in there with nothing to do but read."

"I don't feel the least bit sorry for that bastard," Kendi said harshly. His fingers dug deeper into Ben's shoulders and he winced. "As far as I'm concerned, boredom isn't even the beginning of what he deserves. All those women he seduced just to sell their babies." He dug harder. "All life, it makes me vomit just to-"

"Shoulders! Shoulders!" Ben yelped.

"Sorry," Kendi said, contritely lessening the pressure. "Still a touchy subject with me, I guess." He stopped kneading and came around to sit on the sofa beside Ben. Outside, a ship coasted by the window so close that Ben could almost see passengers in the windows before it passed out of view. Ben turned a little and faced Kendi, his own private universe. What in the world had taken him so long to figure out how deep his feelings ran, how miserable he had been whenever Kendi wasn't in his life? Ben rarely talked with his friends about his love life, and most of them, he knew, had quietly assumed it was Kendi's mercurial temperament that made their earlier relationship so stormy. None of them, except perhaps Ben's mother, had suspected that Ben had repeatedly been the one to call things to an end while Kendi's devotion had never flagged. Ben still didn't know exactly why he had avoided commitment for so long. Perhaps it was because he had grown up without a father at home and he hadn't learned how to form solid relationships with men. Whatever the reason, he had gotten over it, and thank god for that. He never wanted to be apart from Kendi again.

"I have something I need to tell you," Kendi said.

"Oh?"

Kendi took Ben's hand and stroked the back of it in a familiar gesture. "I've been thinking a lot lately. I've lost a lot of people I love. My entire birth family. Ara. Pitr. I've been scared a lot lately, scared of losing more people I love. Eventually I'll run out of people, and I'll be alone." He paused. "It occurred to me that I'm going to lose people, no matter what happens. It's an unavoidable fact. I don't ever want to run out of people to love, Ben. I especially don't want to lose you. Those embryos Ara found, your brothers and sisters, are a part of you, and if I have them, I'll always have you, no matter what." He paused. "Ben, I want to have children with you. Eleven of them."

The universe froze. Ben's mind stopped moving, then made a joyous leap, as if he had just seen a rainbow in a stormy sky. He couldn't speak at first, but finally he made himself say, "You mean it?"

"Absolutely. Hey, I have to pass all this Real People wisdom on to someone before I-what's wrong?"

Ben didn't understand the question. For once, everything was completely right. Only when he felt something warn running down his face did he realize he was crying. "Sorry," he said in a thick voice. "You caught me off guard."

Kendi gathered him close. "You never have to be on guard with me, Ben. And really, there was never any other answer I could give."

"We'll have to find a host mother," Ben said.

"About ten of them, come to that," Kendi said wryly, and Ben had to laugh.

Martina Weaver sat on a hard chair, trying not to stare at her brother. She and the others were arranged in a big circle that alternated yellow-clad Alphas and green-clad Deltas. A male Alpha occupied a chair in the center of circle. Utang sat almost directly across from Martina, and he was looking at her as well, though his face was blank.

"Begin," ordered one of the Deltas.

"Uh, I'm not… not sure," said the center Alpha. He was in his forties and ran toward plump. "That is… how do I-"

"The source of all impurity is envy, which creates N-waves in your mind," the Delta said. "Envy of someone else's possessions leads to laziness or greed. Envy of someone else's position leads to ambition and pride. Envy of someone else's food leads to gluttony. Envy of someone else's body leads to lust. What is it you envy, Alpha?"

The Alpha's face grew red and Martina felt embarrassed for him. He clearly wanted to be anywhere but here. Meanwhile, it was all Martina could do to keep her seat. Her brother-her brother — was sitting only a few meters away and she couldn't even talk to him. She wanted to jump up and run to him more than she had wanted anything in her life. It crossed her mind that perhaps she should say something, tell one of the Deltas. But before she could do so, something else-a slave's instincts? — had advised caution. She didn't know all the rules in this strange place, and she had the distinct feeling that revealing her relationship to Utang would be a mistake. So she kept silent and held her gloved hands folded neatly in her lap.

"What is it you envy, Alpha?" the Delta repeated, more sharply this time.

"I envy everyone who isn't sitting in this chair," he said with a weak smile. This drew a small ripple of laughter from the Alphas and hard pokes in their sides from the Deltas.

"The Confessional is not a place for levity," the Delta said. "Confess! What do you envy?"

"Nothing. I envy nothing."

"Did you wake up this morning with an erection?"

This question clearly caught the Alpha off-guard. "What? I… that's none of-"

"Computer records indicate that you awoke with an erection this morning and you masturbated in the shower," the Delta said. "But you have refused to confess your impurity. The N-waves course through your brain even as we speak. Only by confessing what you have done can you rid yourself of them and become one with Dream. Confess!"

Martina stared at the Delta in disbelief. They spied on the bathrooms? What "impurities" had she committed that had been caught and recorded?

The Alpha looked like he wished the floor would open up and swallow him. "I… I… "

"Did you wake with an erection?" barked the Delta. "Answer!"

"Yes," the Alpha said in a small voice.

As one, the Deltas pointed at him with green-gloved fingers. "Impure!" they boomed. The word echoed like thunder through the room.

"Did you masturbate in the shower?" snapped the Delta.

"Yes."

"Impure!" roared all the Deltas. Delta Maura elbowed Martina in the side and gestured sharply at the central Alpha. The other Deltas did the same with their own charges. The Alphas, including Martina, all pointed and said, "Impure," though without much force or conviction.

"Did you lust after women while you committed this impurity?"

"Yes."

Another nudge. "Impure!" everyone thundered.

"What other impurities did you commit?" the Delta asked.

Tears were leaking from the Alpha's eyes now. "I… I envied other people their freedom."

"Impure!"

"I was hungry and wished for more food," he said.

"Impure!"

"I envied Dreamer Roon's ability to enter the Dream without drugs."

"Impure!" By now, the chorus was strong and solid. Martina said it automatically, as did Utang across from her. The man confessed two more impurities, then broke down and cried, whether from simple humiliation or genuine sorrow at what he had done, Martina couldn't tell. Either way, she didn't blame him for the tears. The Delta got up, knelt next to his chair, and put an arm around him.

"It is finished for now," he said in a kind, fatherly voice. "You've confessed some of your impurities and they will bring you no more N-waves. You are that much closer to Irfan now. Come."

The Delta took the Alpha back to his chair and gave him a small chocolate snack cake. Martina's stomach growled and she found herself staring at the Alpha as he ate the cake. Her earlier craving for sweets awoke. Perhaps her current envy would be a good impurity to confess.

The Delta in charge chose another Alpha, a young woman, for the Confessional. She sat down, nervously gathering her voluminous yellow trousers around her.

"You reek of impurity," the Delta intoned. "The N-waves radiate from your mind and spread your filth to all those around you. You must rid yourself of these things. Confess!"

The Alpha twisted her hands in her lap, refusing to look up.

"What impurities have you committed?" the Delta demanded.

"I guess I… I envied Dreamer Roon his ability to enter the Dream so easily."

"Impure!"

"I wanted more food."

"Impure!"

The relentless confessions continued. Most of the Alphas broke down crying, and each got a small snack cake. Martina found herself shouting and pointing with full enthusiasm. At first the fervor had been pretended, an attempt to blend in, but the ritual gesture and shout began to take on a life of its own. The words rang through Martina's body, echoing around the bare room and banging against her very bones. The confessions came more readily. Alphas confessed to anger, greed, pride, unhappiness, and lust. One woman said she envied Martina her beauty. At every turn, the word "Impure" thundered through the room.

Finally Utang was chosen. He sat down without looking at Martina. Indeed, he didn't look at anyone. Misery was carved into his very posture. The Delta called out to him to confess.

"I woke with an erection," he said. This was a fairly standard confession among the male Alphas by now, though Martina found herself embarrassed again. The sound of his voice also brought her to the edge of tears. It was a sound from her childhood, and one she had thought she'd never hear again.

"Impure!" boomed the circle.

"I disbelieved Dreamer Roon when he said he could enter the Dream without drugs."

"Impure!"

"I became angry at my Delta."

"Impure!"

"I… I… " Utang seemed to cast about for something to confess. "I had lustful thoughts about that woman," he said, pointing at one.

A shock cracked through Martina's body. She cried out in pain, as did the other Alphas. Utang stiffened, then went limp with a moan.

"That was a lie," said the Delta. "In the Dream there are no untruths, and every lie you tell sends you further away from it than any other impurity. For that reason, all your fellow Alphas have suffered. You do not need to fabricate impurities, Alpha. You have plenty enough to confess."

Utang opened his eyes. They were glazed with sorrow. Several of the Alphas were rubbing their shackled wrists and glaring at him with undisguised anger. Martina found her own temper rising, though her ire wasn't directed toward Utang.

Utang was guided back to his seat. He sat staring down at his hands while the others continued to glare. The Delta didn't give him a snack cake.

"Your turn, dear," Delta Maura said with another elbow nudge. Martina was starting to find the woman annoying.

Martina got up and took the central chair. It felt strange. All eyes were on her, even the ones behind her where she couldn't see. Abruptly, she felt vulnerable and alone.

"Confess, Alpha!" barked the Delta. "What impurities have you committed?"

Martina decided to get it over with. "I envied the other Alphas their cake."

"Impure!"

Martina had to force herself not to shrink back into the chair at the shout. It was even louder and more forceful when she was sitting here, alone in the center of the circle. She felt naked despite her voluminous clothing.

"I disbelieved Dreamer Roon's writings," she said.

"Impure!"

"I questioned the wisdom of Delta Maura."

"Impure."

Martina cast about for more. Except for Utang, the other Alphas hadn't been allowed to leave the Confessional until they had confessed to at least four or five impurities. But Martina couldn't think of anything she had done that was impure. There had to be something. Think!

Inspiration struck. "I wanted to keep track of time."

"Impure!"

"I tried to disobey my Delta during Dreamer Roon's speech today."

"Impure!"

"I was proud of the fact that I was keeping my name." Martina blinked. Where had that come from?

"Impure!"

The word pounded at her body. To her horror, Martina felt a few tears leaking from her eyes. Then she decided to take advantage of it and pretend to be more upset than she already was. She dropped her face into her hands and let her shoulders shake in false despair. The bio-sensors in her slave shackles, the ones that had no doubt caught Utang's lie, wouldn't catch a falsehood she didn't vocalize-she hoped. Besides, the tears wetting her gloves were real.

She felt no shock, and after a moment, a light touch on her shoulder told her she could rise. Delta Maura seated her in the half-circle and gave her a snack cake. Martina tore the wrapping away and wolfed it down. The sugar raced through her, creating a momentary high that mingled with a sense of relief. She felt immeasurably better.

"Confessional has ended," the Delta said. "You may stand and speak to one another."

The Alphas all got up stretched. Martina almost bolted across the circle to Utang, but forced herself to move casually. He met her halfway.

"Martina?" he asked softly.

"All life," she said, a lump rising in her throat. "It's me, Keith. Or is it Utang?"

He shook his head. "The Real People deserted me. I haven't heard either of those names in years."

"What should I call you, then?" She couldn't believe she was saying something so insipid and mundane.

"Keith." He reached out to touch her, and a shock coursed through Martina, painful, but not as harsh as the earlier one. Keith snatched his hand back. Suddenly Delta Maura was there, her round face stern.

"Physical contact between the sexes is forbidden," she said, firmly pushing them apart. "The gloves are to protect you from it, but they can't shield you from the N-waves such things generate. Hence your punishment."

They both murmured apologies. When she had walked away, Martina turned back to him and couldn't think of a single thing to say. She still wanted to hug him. Suddenly she needed to touch another human being, skin-to-skin, no gloves, no cloth. Emotion bubbled inside her and tears gathered in her eyes again.

"Don't cry," he said, his own voice strained. "I don't think we should let them know about… about who we are. If this is a place of love and trust, I haven't seen it."

"All life, I feel the same way," Martina said, then gave a tiny laugh. "What are the odds? You and me, both still Silent after the Despair and both brought here."

"The first is more a coincidence than the second," Keith said with a wan smile of his own. "These people are gathering us up. Maybe we'll see Mom and Dad. Or Evan. Have you heard from any of them?"

"No. Do you suppose there's any way to-" She stopped herself automatically. All her life, the word escape had earned her a punishing shock from her shackles, and she had learned not to say it. Keith, however, seemed to understand.

"I don't know," he said tiredly. "We'll have to keep our eyes open. Assuming that there's any place to… go to in the first place. We could be anywhere-on a planet, a ship, a station, anything. It's hopeless."

"Time to return to your rooms," announced a Delta.

"We'll talk again," Keith said.

As Delta Maura hooded Martina and led her away, she silently swore she would find a way out of this place. There had to be one.

All she needed was a plan.