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Part One: Sub-Maron Nine, Chapter One, Part Two: Bogger's World, Chapter Two, Chapter Three

Chapter One

Sol471 - Lune10

The bread was burning, but Qinda couldn't smell it through the scorching of her memories.

Her heart dragged her back to that night the Baldasori blood-hunters bombed her foster-parents' farm. The reek of melting plastic, scorched stone, torched crops and burned flesh made the stink of her precious loaves darkening to charcoal sweet by comparison; and that was faint, coming from the cooking alcove on the other side of the loft in their agro-bunker, filtered through the day-room's flowering plants before it reached the computer room.

Qinda didn't often let memories take over, but today was a day of high emotions. Kayl had just sold all their crops at a larger profit than anticipated and Edrori took eight steps before plumping down on his well-padded bottom. Four ships had landed on their agricultural colony world in the last three days and Qinda had finished her data-dump scan earlier than anticipated. She had just sent her findings to her various employers, so now she could indulge in private research until her son woke from his nap. Qinda estimated at least a half hour of quiet to invoke the search bug she and Kayl devised and set it loose on the new data in the communal base of sub-Maron Nine.

Their enemies would never come near this backwater colony world. Qinda felt safe continuing her search for her scattered foster family. Between their farm and their special talents, they would soon be quite comfortable. Qinda was a data manipulator and had an almost mystical talent for making antiquated machinery work when it should have been scrapped decades ago. Kayl could design programs that almost had intelligence of their own.

They could have made quite comfortable lives for themselves anywhere else in the Conclave if their enemies would just leave them alone to do so. Eventually, they would have to reach the safety of the Commonwealth -- but not now. Extended voyages weren't good for small children, and Qinda hoped to find the scattered remnants of her family before leaving the Conclave's boundaries.

She had searched for nine Sols now. Guerdon and Loreen Cuestor had raised her from the day she left her artificial womb, and she would spend the rest of her life trying to reunite their family. Guerdon was dead, but Loreen and the other children had to be alive. Somewhere.

Edrori woke from his nap ten minutes early and giggling. Qinda left the search bug buzzing through the system to fetch him. The burned bread set off the alarm while she cuddled her son and tickled his nose with the tip of her hip-length braid. Qinda held Edrori on one hip while she wrestled the three smoldering pans from the oven with her free hand. She was in too good a mood to cry over the waste of time and supplies. She dumped the blackened lumps into a towel, gathered the ends together, and with her son still on her hip went to dump the refuse. They walked down the circular stairs, through the echoing chamber that until yesterday had held their harvest, and out the back door of the agro-bunker to the riverbank. After Qinda left the bits of charcoal for the scavenger birds, she and Edrori stayed in the doorway watching the green and black birds squawk and mock-battle over leavings until he began to wriggle and grow aromatic. Time to change a diaper.

Nearly an hour passed before she returned to her computer. Qinda laughed when she heard the melodic hum which meant the link was still up. The bug had found something and dug deeper for more details, expanding on associations.

"Let's see what we found out," she whispered in Edrori's ear, making the wiggly little boy giggle. "Maybe we'll find your grandma today. Wouldn't that be wonderful?"

She put her son down on his blanket and handed him a squeeze toy and settled her lean frame into the chair before the darkened terminal. As she sometimes did, Qinda paused to study her reflection in the screen. Her genetic mother had deposited her in the artificial womb when she was only four Lunes developed. From whom did she get her dark eyes and ebony hair touched with flame? Or her superior hand-eye coordination? Or her long, golden face with the high cheekbones? Or her talent for crystal circuits and data manipulation and piloting? Mother or father? And why had they abandoned her to the Cuestors' custody? What trouble were her parents in, and why had they never returned for her? Qinda knew one or both of her parents could be dead; the Conclave was not a gentle star-community, with every planet a law unto itself and civilization only maintained by laws generated for the sake of profit and safe trade.

Every time she did a personal data search, Qinda's hopes rose. Once she found Loreen and the others, she would be one step closer to her answers. Smiling at her reflection, she touched the keyboard.

Qinda froze and stared at the swirling colors of Kayl's predator trap program. It set up a loop and maze to tangle and baffle any infiltration program attacking their private database.

How long had it been running?

It was supposed to tangle the intruder long enough so they could shut down their system without damage. Supposedly in less than a minute. Qinda stared at the screen, trapped in the choices of what to do. One mistake could freeze her defenses long enough to let the enemy in. She and Kayl couldn't risk even a single byte falling into the wrong hands.

The screen flashed -- something had changed and that wasn't supposed to happen.

Unless the trap had failed?

Qinda's hands slammed down on the keyboard, flying to shut down her link as the first characters of fleeing data scrolled across her screen. Ice filled her lungs and sent a knot through her guts -- the intruder had broken through!

Edrori's laughter bubbled across the room, masking the dying whine of the power unit as it turned off. Qinda sat back from the terminal, sweat turning cold as it dripped into her eyes.

Three seconds of access, she estimated. Tops. How much had the intruder stolen?

He -- or she?

Someone she knew, or just a nosy scavenger making a living at data brokering on the shady side of the law? But what law was there in the Conclave besides the law of 'might makes right'?

"Oh, please, Fi'in," she whispered.

The half-formed prayer froze on her stiff lips. The Cuestors had raised her on prayers and worship and reading the Spirit Books. Qinda's prayers dwindled after Guerdon died before her eyes and she found herself alone. She hoped her foster- parents had been right and the Creator didn't hold nine Sols of silence against her. She needed help now only Fi'in could give.

To protect against the enemy, she had to study the program used. Had the predator trap caught enough of the invader to identify it? That was the first order of business. What was the use of fleeing this haven of two Sols if she ran straight into her enemy's hands? She turned on the power and set to work with shaking hands.

Edrori was still happily playing -- though he had abandoned his squeeze toy and was trying to remove his diaper -- when Qinda had her answer.

It was a hyber-spy; a program that attached itself to data, hibernated to hide from the security arms of search programs, then infiltrated systems seeking the host data. When 'awakened,' it contacted the parent system. No damage occurred in the invaded system...until confidential data fell into the wrong hands.

Only the very rich and powerful could afford hyber-spies. The programming was too delicate, too labor-intensive for casual programmers or independents to handle. Someone merely skimming the databases on every backwater planet wouldn't use such a program because it was tagged for specific information. The hyber-spy could only be used for one target. It was a waste of profit to use hyber-spies unless the operator was very very rich and very very interested in the object being searched.

This hyber-spy rode on a snippet about a nameless girl matching the bio-stats of one of Qinda's foster-sisters; killed in an explosion at the spaceport on Shandiili. Two sisters, one brother and their mother survived her. Could they be Loreen Cuestor and other foster-children?

More important, was it a trap?

* * *

Qinda had all their data disks encrypted and snapped out for travel, all Edrori's supplies packed and had started on her and Kayl's clothes when her husband flew up the stairs to their loft. Edrori lay on the bed, playing with his toes and babbling to his mother. His face lit up and he squealed delight when he saw his father enter their tiny bedroom. Even with all her worries crashing down on her, Qinda's heart skipped a beat and she smiled as always at how father and son were mirror images; olive skin, gray eyes, and round faces topped with shaggy blue-black curls.

"Haynash's hub ship is in port." Kayl dropped to his knees next to Qinda in front of their clothes chest and wrapped his dusty, sweaty arms tight around her.

"She never lands her hub ship. She knows I'm here." Qinda had gone past tears or fear or even anger, into that state of calm that let her see clearly and plan. It was the only way she had survived, alone until she met Kayl.

"She knows we're here," he corrected, and cradled her close, his body shaking from running all the way back to their river-hugging farm in the afternoon heat.

"No." She clung to him, memorizing the feel of his arms, the sweet-salt smell of his clean sweat, the smooth roundness of muscle under his summer-weight clothes. "She never noticed you when we were on her ship. But if she knows we're married without her permission -- "

"We never needed her permission." Kayl tried to laugh, but his voice broke.

"That cosmic hag thinks my genetics are hers to command. She'll kill you because you gave me a child she didn't order. She'll kill our son, unless Edrori meets her standards." She took a deep breath, feeling tears threaten. "We have to split up."

"No!"

"What is my life worth if either of you dies? We have to separate," she whispered, and tried to push free of the comfort of his arms. They had work to do. With Gorigya Haynash's main ship on their colony world, they had little time.

"No." Kayl shook her. He knuckled away angry tears when Qinda twisted free. "If she catches you -- "

"She needs me alive. If she sees us together, she'll kill you, and I'll never convince her I can be converted to her view. If you're free, I have a reason to fight and live."

Kayl was silent, pale with the pain of her common sense. He nodded and they embraced tightly enough that Qinda found bruises on her ribs three days later.

* * *

Rivicka Anserno met them at the spaceport when they reached it before dawn; a skeletal woman with fiery green eyes and thick, glossy red hair pulled back in a braid that hung past her waist. There were times in the past when Qinda had reason to consider the acid-tongued woman a friend and guardian spirit. She nearly cried now, and wondered if Fi'in had sent Rivicka to help her once again. It had to be Fi'in who sent her; how else could Rivicka always show up when Qinda was in desperate trouble?

"Well, little one," Rivicka drawled as she stepped from the shadows of the gateway. "I guess the simple farming life doesn't suit you after all."

Qinda was too out of breath to snap back. Rivicka always brought out the sharp edge of her tongue, though the woman seemed to honestly care for her. Edrori chose that moment to lift his head from under his mother's cloak, peeking out of the gap into the shadows.

"What's this?" The sardonic twist of Rivicka's mouth trembled and a suspicious moistness glimmered in her eyes. She blinked hard and reached out, tugging away the edge of the cloak to reveal the sleepy little boy. "Taking up pets now, are you?"

"Our son," Kayl said.

"Oh, little one, worse and worse," the woman murmured. "You're not pure anymore. Have a child by common seed, you're tainted for life. Haynash will never forgive you."

"She'll kill my son and my husband," Qinda said, softening her voice so Edrori wouldn't understand.

"Trapped him for life, did you? I'm impressed. He has more common sense than I thought."

Qinda nearly laughed at that, because Kayl had sided with Rivicka when the woman insisted they risk everything they had, sell everything except their own skins, and get transport to the Commonwealth. They had worked crew with Haynash, who decided Qinda belonged to her breeding program -- just after she became pregnant with Edrori. They had fled to save their lives. Gorigya Haynash destroyed those who would not obey.

Rivicka was silent, probably thinking backwards, calculating how old Edrori had to be, and realizing what had made them stop here instead of racing for the freedom of the Commonwealth.

"It's time to go to the Commonwealth," Kayl said.

"Yes, but not together. Not with Haynash dirtside. And other enemies." Rivicka's smile grew as thin as a blade. "But I think we can use our enemies against each other. Come."

She led them past the gate instead of inside the spaceport proper, to a long row of domed huts half-buried in the blowing sand outside the blast walls. Qinda and Kayl had spent two Lunes here in transient housing until they could obtain the equipment and seed for their farm. The land had been free; people willing to invest themselves on an agricultural colony world were the missing ingredient.

Rivicka palmed the lock scanner of the third hut in line and stood back as the panel slid open. She glanced in all directions for watchers as she gestured for them to hurry inside.

One look around told Qinda this was no transient stop for Rivicka. A shelf full of meal packs and entertainment cubes; a two-burner cooking pad; dirty dishes soaking in a sink; a cot half-hidden behind a curtain, with clothes strewn across it. Rivicka had been here for Lunes. Why?

Kayl slid their duffles off both shoulders and let his cloak fall across them. He took Edrori from Qinda so she could shed her own cloak and the two bags that hung from long straps criss-cross to rest at her hips. They made convenient seats for Edrori during their long night walk across the wastes between their river farm and the spaceport.

"Could I?" Rivicka asked, as Qinda settled down on the bench alongside the utilitarian gray-green table and Kayl handed Edrori back to her.

The hunger in her eyes made Qinda pause only for a moment. Nodding, she settled her sleepy little son into Rivicka's arms and watched the woman sit down slowly, carefully, as if she held something very fragile. For some reason she couldn't quite fathom, Qinda felt tears prickle at the backs of her eyes.

"If only my baby had been a boy..." Rivicka sighed. She brushed her cheek against Edrori's tangled curls, her face soft and wistful just for a moment. Then that scheming gleam came back to her eyes. "Well, little one. You're very good at hiding your secrets, but some come out no matter what we do, eh?"

"We've decided to split up," Qinda said. "Temporarily."

"Your man and this little pup don't have a chance if they're caught with you." The woman nodded, frowning. "Good plan. How will you keep contact?"

"We can't." Kayl's voice went flat. "We'll meet on Gemar. It's Commonwealth and ships go there on a regular basis. Whoever gets there first will find work and shelter and wait."

"Good...but not good enough." Rivicka let out a mirthless chuckle when neither one protested her comment.

By nightfall, they had a plan.

Rivicka gave them comm-chips; computer-link data chips coded in pairs to send encrypted messages. Qinda and Kayl could use any public communications station to record their messages, which would then be picked up by every ship that passed through for the next two Lunes. That information would then be included in data-dumps at every port of call for one Sol, at the end of which the file would disintegrate. Only the person holding the matching chip could retrieve the message. The advantage of untraceable communications no one else could read more than made up for the expense. Only Leapers and Spacers and government officials could afford to use them on a regular basis.

Rivicka found them temporary identities and jobs on two outgoing ships. Qinda had a place as medical assistant on the tramp freighter Nebula Core.

"And for you..." Rivicka chuckled as she turned to Kayl. "You're still a farmer trying to get back into space, but with a new name." She handed him the new identity chip to put into his tool wristband.

"What ship?" Kayl asked. "What position?"

"Oh, you're a hold drudge. Caderi's people don't let strangers work jobs any higher until they've proven themselves."

"Caderi?" Qinda kept her voice low; Edrori was finally asleep.

"How did you get me a berth on board a Caderi ship?" Kayl rasped. He sat down heavily. "I'm not ungrateful, Mistress Anserno, but Caderi nearly rules four star systems. He has enough people begging to work for him, you almost have to bribe someone on his staff to even consider hiring you."

"What is Caderi's ship doing here?" Qinda asked. "What is on sub-Maron Nine to bring his ship this far out?"

"Me, probably." Rivicka's grin turned mischievous. "He hates me. Isn't it ironic that the safest place for you is in my enemy's ship?" She chuckled and settled down next to Qinda with a swirl of her long desert robe. "Little one, have I ever caused you harm?" She waited until Qinda shook her head. "Trust me. I will not let anything happen to your loved ones. Caderi's people aren't looking for them. I told the cargo master the truth; a farmer with some techno skills and his little son need to flee enemies. The woman has a soft spot for motherless babies and she fancies herself a fringe member of the Order."

"She what?" Qinda had to laugh.

The Order was devoted to scholarship, charity and aid in Fi'in's name. The founder of the Order had helped rebuild civilization after the Downfall. The very idea that someone who worked for Adlan Caderi would follow the practices of the Order was almost unbelievable.

Qinda had to believe Fi'in had worked on their behalf. She vowed that she would pray every day, and she would find a copy of the Spirit Books and resume her studies.

"Don't laugh away gifts in odd places," Rivicka said. "Caderi's ship will take Kayl and Edrori far from here, and when they leave it they can go straight to Gemar. No one cares enough to follow them. You, however, need a slow and winding route. Never let anyone guess where you're headed. If your enemies realize you are leaving the Conclave..." Rivicka shook her head, the mischief fading into somberness that turned her eyes into lifeless green stones.

Qinda cradled Edrori close and tried not to feel the chill working through her.

Were they fools to try to find safety in the shadow of Rivicka's enemy? Adlan Caderi was a man with influence and holdings in so many star systems, he was a legend. Rumors said when space travel returned after the Downfall, the Caderi clan was first to reach to other planets for trade. The Caderi were warlords and pirates during the Downfall. Legitimate now, Adlan Caderi was someone whom the wise never angered or crossed.

If Kayl kept his head down, he could hide in the shadow of Caderi's power.

The hours clicked away as they planned their schedule for message drops. Rivicka laid claim to Edrori, rocking the boy when he grew restless and sneaking him treats when his parents weren't looking. Qinda had never seen this soft side of the woman before, though Rivicka had always been kind to the Cuestors' foster- children when she visited during Qinda's abbreviated childhood.

Morning came and Qinda's ship was ready to leave. Kayl and Edrori would find other temporary quarters, so if anyone back-trailed them, father and son wouldn't be associated with Rivicka. The four were unable to speak as they gathered their newly-divided possessions and Rivicka handed Edrori over to his mother for one last kiss and hug. The sleepy boy giggled when Qinda kissed his nose and chin and forehead and both cheeks.

As she kissed him, she silently said good-bye to the tiny body left behind on their farm; her daughter who had died the day she was born. Qinda had always known she would leave the grave behind, but not so soon, so hurriedly, in fear that wiped away her shreds of sorrow.

"Two Sols, at the most," Kayl whispered, as he drew his wife close for one final embrace. "Then, by Fi'in's grace, we will be free and safe in the Commonwealth."

"Fi'in's grace, perhaps, but not without a lot of sweat and care," Rivicka said. "Go, little one. Don't look back. You may feel safer, but never look over your shoulder once you start a journey. Looking back will slow you and make you second-guess yourself. Once you do that, you're lost."

"I don't know how I'll ever thank you." Qinda hugged Rivicka.

The woman stiffened, then surprised Qinda by wrapping her arms tight around her for one rib-threatening moment. "Keep your head down and pretend to be a nobody -- that's how you'll thank me. Get to the Commonwealth, as far from the likes of Haynash and Caderi as you can. If Leapers offer help, take it. Always be honest with Leapers, no matter how much they frighten you."

Qinda nodded, dazed by that advice. How did Rivicka know?

Then the hut's door opened and Qinda stepped out into the dusty, half-lit street. It was time to go to her ship, for a voyage of five Lunes under the name of Chayna Obray. The identity would only last that long, then she would be Qinda Cuestor again. Someday, she promised herself, she would be Qinda D'Sral, when it was safe to use her husband's name.

She didn't look back as she heard the door hiss closed, barely masking Edrori's sleepy "Mama?" Qinda bit her tongue and clenched her jaw and refused to acknowledge the burning at the corners of her eyes. The dry, dusty wind stole the damp before a single traitor tear could travel down her cheek.

Part Two: Bogger's World

Chapter Two

Sol473 - Lune04

Qinda pressed her fingers against her eyes, feeling the heat of tears under her lids. Five times, she had used the comm-chip since parting from Kayl and Edrori. The last three times, there had been messages for her, audio and visual. This time -- nothing. It was to be expected; sometimes her ship moved faster than the messages. Still, the silence hurt.

She refused to cry over something that really meant nothing. Besides, it was time to leave the communications booth, cross the crowded spaceport marketplace of Bogger's World and hurry back to help prepare her ship for launch.

She straightened her faded brown singleton and threadbare green tunic. The privacy door slid aside and the humid air slapped her like a filthy cleaning rag. Grit coated her face. Qinda wiped sweaty curls out of her face, and tried to think of words strong enough to curse Schanzzer for bringing their Combine ship to this planet. She had cut her hair for the sake of disguise, but the climate of Bogger's World made her think shoulder-length hair was still too long. Dusk gave faint promise of coolness, waiting on the far horizon just beyond the low-slung, rock and plastic-panelled port buildings.

"Didn't take ye much time now," Doree called from a shop situated across the narrow walkway from the booths.

She and two other women in Schanzzer's crew had paused to inspect spider- web patterned gowns in dusty colors. The dusky-skinned, tiny woman grinned at Qinda and waved her over to join them. Silver eyes and hair glinted in the sunlight coming through the long openings in the roof of the port's public facilities section. She was Qinda's roommate on the Silver Bough.

Qinda shrugged and managed a grin for her friend. Glancing in both directions, she searched the steady stream of pedestrians for a break, so she could cross. Six hours, and Silver Bough could leave this constricting, hot world. Then she could rid herself of the dust of Bogger's World and the scratchy sensation that someone watched her whenever she left the ship.

The wall of moving bodies stayed solid. Qinda stretched up on her toes and grimaced, making faces at the other three women until all four were red-faced with suppressed laughter. She studied the people hurrying past, staring down men who gave her appraising looks and winking at women who gave the men baleful looks. Bearded faces caught her attention, far down the line. Qinda hadn't seen beards like those since --

Heart thudding, she slowly backed toward the row of booths she had just vacated and a narrow passage leading to another section of the port. She fought to move her head, pretending to look in any other direction but at the three men coming toward her. Had they seen her? Had she changed enough since she had fled Haynash's ship?

Across the aisle, Doree watched her, frowning. Qinda clenched her fist and pumped it twice in the standard danger signal. She turned her back and hoped her friend would see the three men. She had to see them. Their simple robes of dark blue, striped with dirty white and dull green were such marked contrast to the bright, solid colors of crew singletons and the Bogger's World traders, they stood out like flares during an eclipse. They wore flat-topped turbans that rode low over their foreheads, almost down to their eyebrows. Their wide sleeves, tightly cuffed, sagged with hidden weapons. The length of their gray-streaked brown beards declared their skill as warriors.

Qinda tried to move into the safety of the shadows without hurrying. Her feet trembled with each step, begging her to run. She thought of Gorigya Haynash, the gleam in the obese woman's eyes when she had declared Qinda a long-lost grandchild -- proven by the mandatory genetic tests for new crew. As such, she had a duty to breed for the clan's glory and prosperity. Qinda would not be killed if she bred a child outside Haynash's plans -- but the child and father would die.

To keep the unscrupulous from using them against each other, Qinda and Kayl had always pretended to be strangers while working as crew. For the first time, this trick had worked against them. They fled Haynash's ship, twisting their trail and went to ground just before Qinda gave birth.

What were Haynash's men doing on Bogger's World? Business, pure and simple, or had they found Qinda's trail?

Shadows slipped over her face. Qinda imagined coolness and safety wrapping around her. She strained her ears for voices, the sound of pursuit.

Qinda fought a shriek as a hand touched her from a pitch black doorway. A hand hooked into her belt and spun her around. Qinda fell against a wall only a few steps into a chilly compartment. She turned herself around, wishing for a weapon as the door slid shut.

"Trouble, little one?"

A light came on, tiny and yellow in the tool wristband of the brown-draped woman who lounged against the closed door. Qinda stared for two seconds, stunned by the sight of furnace red hair and that mouth set in a perpetual pout.

"Rivicka?" Qinda didn't know what she felt. Glad? Or angry at how the woman had frightened her?

Then -- relief. Maybe she had only sensed Rivicka's presence and Haynash's men hadn't found her after all.

Loud male voices called in the passageway outside the door. Rivicka flinched, then the sparkle in her eyes grew brighter.

"Never a dull moment when you're around, little one."

"How long have you known I was in trouble?"

"Four hours." She shook her head, silken strands coming loose from the pearly gray band holding her hair off her forehead. "You should scout out your escape routes better."

"I didn't think I needed one." Qinda smiled despite the gentle scolding.

"Until you're twenty Sols in your grave, you always need one."

Rivicka signalled for silence and pressed the control for the door. She tugged her hood higher over her hair and stuck her head out into the shadowy passageway. Quiet. Nodding, she gestured for Qinda and led her back the way she had come.

The traffic hadn't thinned in the main concourse of the spaceport. The three from Silver Bough had left the gown shop. They were likely on their way to the ship, calling in the situation and demanding the captain send out people to rescue Qinda. She had to get back to her ship within the hour or there would be a major ruckus. Schanzzer could kick her off the ship and withhold back pay if Qinda caused too much trouble. Crew who hadn't signed a contract didn't have any rights -- except to refuse to join a Combine.

Rivicka squeezed Qinda's arm and nodded at the flow of traffic. Entering the shuffling stream, the odor of unwashed bodies doused in pungent aromatics and stinging disinfectants filled the air so Qinda almost choked. Rivicka guided her across the flow as it moved them. The passage deposited them into an open air market. Village women shopped alongside quartermasters, buying by handfuls or crates from the same vendors. The thick spill of humanity spread out, letting fresh air in to the people packed into the middle. Qinda smiled in relief at having room to maneuver again, despite the tension tightening her back muscles. She glanced all around as she followed Rivicka.

They passed a cart that sold meals of sizzling salty frybread wrapped around sweet purple leaves that swelled when fried. Qinda's stomach twisted and grumbled at the aroma and her mouth watered. She glanced back once as she and Rivicka passed the cart.

"In here." Rivicka gestured at a narrow doorway strung with beads and braided ropes tipped with clanking copper bells.

They hurried across the tiled floor and Qinda kept as close to Rivicka's heels as she could without treading on them. The white-haired shop keeper emerged from the shadows, spouting obsequious chatter about how the lovely ladies honored him by coming to his humble store full of rags.

Rivicka let him blather while she wandered, fingering robes and sandals. Qinda tried not to look over her shoulder every few seconds. She almost cried out with relief when Rivicka chose a dull, dirty green robe and flung an insultingly low offer at the shop keeper. Qinda hated the haggling but kept quiet. She knew Rivicka's first rule: avoid notice. If they did not haggle over the selling price, the shop keeper would remember them.

Finally, they slid out the back door of the shop with the new robe wrapped around Qinda's shoulders, the hood tugged up over her hair. It made her sweat and smelled like someone's pet had slept on it, but Qinda wasn't about to complain.

The door opened onto the exterior of the spaceport. Streaks of sunset spilled over the blast wall that lay between the marketplace and the landing field. Qinda took deep breaths of the thinner, cleaner air touched with the tang of ozone and fuel fumes. And laughed.

"Now it's up to you, little one." Rivicka lightly slapped Qinda's shoulder. "Whatever you do, don't run. No one will notice you, no matter where you go, if you don't run."

"It'll be hard." She grinned, feeling as if she had just dropped a heavy load.

Rivicka gestured at the blast wall which was the last barrier between them and Qinda's ship -- and safety. "Keep your head down. Danger is much closer than you think. Get to the Commonwealth and find your men and that safe, hidden home. Now go. Up and over, not by the tunnel. That's what they expect. Never do what your enemy expects."

Qinda's legs wobbled a little as she crossed the packed dirt heading toward the blast wall. It was sloped on both sides, to provide protection from skidding shuttles or delivery skimmers that might crash into the traffic and people on the other side.

Her legs ached at knees and hips from pounding the hard dirt under her soft- sole boots as she tried to get a running start without looking like she ran. Qinda told herself to enjoy the strain. It had been a long time since she had gone all-out on a planet, breathing natural air instead of recycled; feeling real light on her face instead of artificial light from health-glow rods.

Qinda only gasped for breath as she neared the top. The wall sloped under her feet, gritty from ashy residue, growing slippery as the angle steepened. Then she was over and struggling not to fall. She bent her legs to crouch and slid three- quarters of the way to the bottom.

Doree met her when Qinda was still twenty meters from the personnel hatch for Silver Bough. She clucked like a nesting bird. The two crew standing guard at the hatch gave Qinda sympathetic grins, which she returned gladly.

At the first branching in the narrow passage through the ship, Doree paused her lecture to buzz the captain's cabin and left a message for Schanzzer that Qinda was back safely. Then she resumed as they climbed the access ladder to the crew cabins.

"You want the first shower?" Qinda asked, pulling the door to their cabin open.

"Of course I do, you silly child." Doree stopped short, blinking a few times. Energy drained from her lithe frame like someone had pulled the plug in a tank. She heaved a deep, long sigh. "Child, we can protect you if we know your enemies."

"I can't ask protection unless I join."

"Then why don't you?"

Doree tugged open the shower cubicle's sliding door and peeled off her dust- coated clothes. Her movements were hurried, jerky compared to her usual graceful, slow way of moving. Doree hurried for nothing and no one, but showers.

"I don't want ship life. I want to live in one place and watch my son grow up and grow old with my husband." She settled down on her narrow bunk and wilted a little.

"Well." Doree pulled her undershirt off, mussing her hair into sweaty silver spikes. "That's more than you've said about yourself in Lunes." She tossed her clothes onto her bunk above Qinda's and slid into the cubicle. "I'll miss you, kittling."

"I'll miss you, too," Qinda whispered, over the click of the door closing and the rattle-gurgle-hiss of the water rushing through the tubes into the shower. She dug into the drawer under her bunk and pulled out her Spirit Book. She needed to study and pray, after what had just happened. Fi'in had rescued her from unknown danger yet again. It was only appropriate she give thanks.

But how long would such miracles continue? a quiet voice in the back of her mind asked.

* * *

At an hour before launch, Qinda wondered why Schanzzer hadn't prepped the thrusters. By now a subliminal rumbling should have been coming up through the soles of her boots.

Her duties were done, down to the last button pushed to notify the exec that everything was ready and waiting. There was nothing to do but return to her cabin and strap in.

She hated launch, but the pressure of tripled gravity didn't bother her compared to what waited outside the atmosphere. Silver Bough would link with a Leaper ship to be towed through dimensional transition to another quadrant of the galaxy. Qinda hated the drugs she had to take for transition. They always left her nauseated and never put her far enough under. She always caught mental images and fragments of words, an unwilling partner when the Leaper captain linked with her ship's brain.

Before launch, though, she needed to fill her stomach. Transition was always easier if she ate. Qinda put her future gripes and discomfort back into the future and climbed into the tube leading from her duty station to the galley of Silver Bough. As she squeezed her way up the narrow access tube to the main passageway, she wondered yet again if Schanzzer had hired her for her slim shape more than her skill cobbling together fraying hardware. Silver Bough was an obsolete model and there was little profit in the Conclave in manufacturing new parts. Qinda could perform miracles with junk and Schanzzer knew it. Her pay was good and her quarters comfortable and all the crew treated her like a member of their family, without a contract.

Qinda almost regretted the need to leave Silver Bough after this voyage.

Schanzzer sat alone in the galley when Qinda stepped into the long, narrow room, done all in scratched silver and white plastic. The ship's bony, hawk-nosed captain nodded to her as she drank tea and ate a protein paste sandwich in silence. Qinda felt the other woman's eyes staring holes in her back. A familiar tingling of warning ran up and down her back as she turned and noted the intent, considering expression on the woman's face.

She looked around the galley, wishing it was crowded. With only two there, the room nearly echoed despite the two long tables and the chairs on their tracks, the food storage cabinets, heater and disposal units lining the walls.

"How long have you been with us?" Schanzzer asked as she sat three seats away. The captain smiled, making the long burn scars on her right cheek twitch and gleam in the dim galley light. Her skimpy brown hair framed sharp cheekbones and violet eyes.

"Nearly three Lunes." She forced a smile and wiped sweating hands on the legs of her baggy clean coveralls. "Is my probation period lasting too long for you?"

"Hardly. Would you consider signing your contract early?"

Qinda sipped her tea to stall for time and blanked her face. It always started like this -- saying how well she fit into the Combine, what an asset she would be to their crew, offering to let her sign her contract early.

"Let me save you some time." Qinda smiled softly, but made no effort to hide the weariness in her voice. "Your med-techs are delighted with my genetics and want me made a permanent part of the crew and family so no one else can grab me."

"I didn't doubt you'd been through this before." Schanzzer gave her a crooked grin. "Everybody likes you. We assumed you were comfortable here. We're not like the Combines that make breeders into commodities instead of people."

"It's not that." She closed her eyes against unreasonable tears. "I'm just not ready to settle into one ship and crew for the rest of my life."

"Have you really thought about it?" Schanzzer's voice softened. "You're awfully young, Qinda. How long have you been alone, on your own?"

"Since I was fourteen," she admitted.

"This is probably the only life you've ever known, so you want to try other options. It's hard to settle when there's so much else in the universe to experience."

"That's not it at all." Qinda choked on tearful laughter. It was bad enough the crew had wormed secrets from her with their sympathy. Qinda didn't want to open up more, because she would have to leave soon. Schanzzer's offer made that imperative.

She wolfed the sandwich to finish and get out of the galley. At times like this, she hated a shipboard existence. She wanted to run across a field, into a horizon that stretched on forever and feel like nothing could ever stop her until she chose.

"We'd protect you from your enemies."

"I know." Qinda crumpled the wrapper and cup and stood to leave.

"Reconsider, please?"

"After our next stop." She tossed the wrapper and cup into the disposal, braced for the tiny energy flash as the molecules were torn apart for re- synthesizing. Qinda hated her sensitivity to frequencies. It made her a genius with finding mechanical problems, but it was itching uncomfortable in old, run-down ships like Silver Bough.

"Captain to the main hatch," the exec called, her voice vibrating into tinny echoes.

"On my way," Schanzzer said into the comm on her wristband. She closed her eyes and scrubbed them with her fists. "Come with me. I need your help with this problem."

"Is that why we're not warming up for lift yet?" she asked, and followed the captain down the main passageway.

"Schedules and authorities always get in the way." She didn't look back and her shoulders slumped a little.

The captain looked more worn than ever, and Qinda felt sorry for her. Schanzzer had to be over sixty Sols, and the strain of getting a profit from the old ship made her look eighty.

They reached the main hatch and the massive cube of the airlock a few seconds later. Qinda frowned at the sight of the four gray-on-black uniformed Port Authority officers waiting inside the airlock.

"This is Qinda Cuestor?" their leader asked. He looked her up and down, eyes sparkling an intelligent blue from behind the slits in his shock helmet.

"Yes." Schanzzer sighed and stepped back aside.

Qinda froze with five steps between her and the officers.

"You are under arrest for transporting stolen property." He held out his hand. "You will come with us."

"Stolen?" The accusation numbed her mind for a moment.

"Who accuses her?" Doree asked, stepping from an alcove in the side of the airlock. She gave Qinda a shamed look and handed over her shabby duffle, stuffed full and tied closed.

Qinda didn't doubt Schanzzer had been making a genuine offer back in the galley. If she had agreed, would Schanzzer have given her a new name with her contract, and then denied Qinda Cuestor was even aboard her ship?

"Adlan Caderi accuses her," he answered, his voice awed.

Qinda almost laughed, partly in shock, partly amused disbelief that anyone would believe a technician on a decrepit starship could steal anything from powerful, feared Adlan Caderi.

"What property?" she demanded, voice cracking.

"The person of one Qinda Cuestor, female, twenty-five Sols of age." The leader recited her bio stats but Qinda didn't hear.

Adlan Caderi claimed she was his property. He owned space stations and controlled incalculable wealth and power -- he could prove his claim with no difficulty, even if it was a blatant lie.

How was she supposed to fight that?

Chapter Three

Qinda felt sick from the conflicting urges to flee, to let fly with feet and fists, and to curl up into a fetal ball and wail. She had to control herself. She had to appear reasonable and docile. She had to cooperate now in the hope of eventual freedom; until she knew the true story; until she could assess her situation. Then she would fight with everything she had.

Fi'in, please help me!

Adlan Caderi claimed she was his property. How? On what grounds?

The officer handed her an arrest warrant issued in the Soledad System. The laws of one system weren't always applicable in others, but in the interests of trade, authorities throughout the Conclave always enforced things like arrest warrants and contracts. Many systems allowed slavery for debt or crimes. What crime had she been charged with, so Adlan Caderi could claim her?

One officer gestured back through the open hatch and reached out to take hold of Qinda's arm at the elbow. She tugged free.

"I won't resist, but don't you touch me," she said between her teeth.

The skin visible through the officer's helmet blanched. The rest of the squad reacted similarly. Qinda let them lead her from the ship while her mind raced. What reasons had Caderi given for her arrest? What instructions for her treatment? She was important to him, it seemed, but why?

"There!" a hoarse voice shouted, echoing off the sides of ships.

Qinda caught a glimpse of green stripes on blue as two officers hurried her across the pavement to the blast wall. Behind her, the distinct whipcrack sound of a stunner beam rang out over the landing field. Qinda shuddered even as a tiny smile touched her mouth. Haynash's men certainly deserved that. Too bad that horrific mountain of a woman wasn't with them.

The other officers rejoined them a few steps away from an enclosed cart. Qinda let them hurry her inside. What could she do against stunners? She doubted the officers would hesitate to use one on her.

Sliding into her seat, Qinda took one last look through the door. She caught a glimpse of a pale face framed by fiery hair and a brown hood. Rivicka's eyes glittered with killing fury as she met Qinda's gaze. Then the door closed.

The trip was too short for all the questions to take order in her mind. The cart stopped and the door open and the squad leader stepped out first. He held out a hand to her.

"We'll take her from here, Commander," a new voice said. It was deep, thick so the words come from the back of the throat.

Another hand slid into Qinda's view. A thick hand, darkly tanned, with a long burn scar across the palm. She didn't think its owner would hesitate to yank her from the cart. She pushed off the seat and snagged her duffle and stepped out.

Seven men in wine-colored singletons, bare-headed, wearing black matte- finish weapon belts watched her step from the cart. They could have been brothers, thickly built, dark-skinned, with black eyes and coarse, short-clipped black hair. Their leader nodded to Qinda, a slight smile touching his lips but never his eyes. His hand was dry, solid and surprisingly gentle when she put her hand into his grip. The other six bowed to her.

"Welcome, Mistress Qinda." He gestured, a negligent wave of his hand. The six split into two columns and walked on either side of them, an imposing escort up the high polished green granite steps of the Sasyphro Hotel.

The only self-contained hotel of Bogger's World, it purified its own air and water and grew its own food -- what it didn't import from other worlds. Qinda had heard rumors that only people who had part ownership in the Sasyphro could afford to stay there more than a Lune. Exotic flowers from other worlds filled the five-story tall lobby, thriving inside the enhanced life-field only three cities in this star system could afford. Qinda flinched when she passed through the first layer of the energy field in the doorway. It only tickled, but she had been startled by it, busy gawking at the carved stone pillars full of curlicues and birds in the arched doorway.

Her escort's hand tightened around hers as she stared at the arrested waterfall of silver, emerald and azure flowers filling one wall inside the lobby. Qinda looked back through the haze in the doorway. Four escorts broke formation to chase a slim form in brown with a long strand of red hair streaming out behind her.

"There is no worry, Mistress," her guide said, nodding. "That one will never threaten you again."

Qinda wanted to protest that Rivicka was her friend, but she looked into his eyes and saw his satisfaction at the thought of Rivicka's punishment. She swallowed hard. "What now?"

"Your quarters are on the top floor."

He led her over a glossy black stone bridge that spanned a silvery trickle of water filled with wriggling lavender fish no longer than Qinda's thumb. They stopped before a wall covered with an abstract, flowing design in green and wine- colored tiles no bigger than the tip of Qinda's thumb. He touched a stud on his weapons belt. A door slid open in the wall, revealing a tiny room swathed in maroon cloth, with benches on three of the four walls.

"The Master orders you to make yourself comfortable." He released her and gestured for her to enter. Qinda obeyed. She imagined him using his stunner if she balked.

The door slid shut behind her. The floor vibrated. Qinda swallowed a tiny shriek and her face warmed as she realized the room was an elevator. Before she could unbend her stiff-locked legs enough to sit, the door opened. A long hall tiled in green mosaic stretched out before her.

A woman beckoned from a shadowy doorway on the left. She seemed like a ghost, with silvery-blonde hair and a creamy white flowing dress; no decorations or cuffs or belt to restrain the flow of cloth from shoulder to calf. Even her pale blue eyes were soft and hazy.

"What should -- " Qinda bit her tongue. She knew somehow she wouldn't get an answer. All she could do was walk the hall and step through the door.

The woman smiled and stepped out into the hall. The door slid shut. Qinda turned and tapped the control panel on the inside. The door didn't respond.

"Figures." Qinda swallowed hard against an urge to cry. She dropped her duffle on the floor and turned to survey her prison.

Low-level golden lights spilled across the room, revealing subtle changes in the colors of the walls. Mauve shading to cinnamon around the raised doorway area; greens and blues in soothing non-patterns followed the gradual step-down floor levels in the rest of the single room; a spacious, luxurious hotel room like she had heard of from bragging fellow-travelers, but never dared hope she would see.

The bed was built into the wall in a deep alcove on the left; big enough for three. The fluffy quilt and mounds of pillows were all in shades of mauve and cinnamon. The whole room was bigger than the massed living quarters of some ships she had been in.

The door slid open. Qinda backed up a few steps, down into the next level.

A single man came in; tall, broad-shouldered; dressed all in a deep, dark maroon; loose, long-sleeve shirt tucked into loose pants, tucked into calf-high soft boots. He wore a silver band on one wrist, a single silver ring with an ice blue stone, a data-link wristband on the other wrist. Swarthy skin, dark eyes; dark, curly hair and thin beard, just lightly frosted with silver.

"You the boss here?" she asked, when he paused in the doorway and simply looked at her.

He smiled, nodding. When he took another step toward her, she backed away. He didn't follow her, but took the steps down to the seating area. He turned again to face her.

"Do you mind if I sit down?" He gestured at a low couch upholstered in dull cinnamon. "Yes," he said, settling into the couch without waiting for her reply. "I am the boss. And yes, I had you brought here."

"Why?" She congratulated herself on keeping her voice steady -- this was Adlan Caderi!

"Because you belong here. No, not in this hotel, grand as it is. You certainly deserve much better, my dear."

Qinda shivered at the possessive caress in his voice.

The door chime sounded, soft and sweet like crystal bells. Caderi smiled and spoke into his wristband. "Enter, Doctor. We're ready for you."

The door slid aside and two men walked in. The younger was as ethereal in build and coloring as the woman who had met Qinda in the hall. He wore maroon also, but on him it looked like a uniform. His eyes flicked over Qinda, head to toe, then he turned to Caderi.

"Ready, Varan?" Caderi asked. "This is Dr. Frober, Qinda." He gestured at the second man, dressed in baggy, pale yellow surgical tunic and leggings. "He'll be running some tests on you, to make sure you're all right."

"Why should you care?" she snapped. Partly to release the tension coiling inside her like an angry snake, partly to judge him by his reaction. He was too cool for her comfort.

"I care very much, my dear," he said, voice almost amused. No change, nothing new to read and judge.

The other two, however, gave Qinda what she wanted. Varan and the skeletal, balding Dr. Frober flinched at her tone of voice to their employer.

"You are Caderi, aren't you?"

"Of course."

"What do you want with me?" Qinda took a step closer to him, when all her instincts said to get as far away as possible.

"I'll answer all your questions once you've finished your tests, my dear." Caderi nodded to Dr. Frober.

"Everything is on-line," the doctor said, his voice as dry as he looked. A panel slid aside in the wall next to the bed alcove and a narrow diagnostic table slid out into the room. "If you will lie down, Mistress, this won't take long." His left eyebrow quirked in amusement when she didn't move. "If I promise it won't hurt, would you believe me?"

She liked him. For no reason but a gut instinct that said Dr. Frober could be trusted. Whether that trust went beyond this moment, this room, Qinda didn't know.

"All right." She crossed the room, feeling the weight of Caderi's eyes on her. Dr. Frober offered her his hand to help her lie down. It was warm, gentle despite being bony.

The diagnostic table hummed under her. Qinda imagined the crawl of the scanner wand below her, reading the content and condition of her bones and blood and tissue, registering her nutritional condition and the stress her body had known recently.

"The results are coming through now," Varan said, his voice giving Qinda a near-painful jerk back from her musing.

Qinda turned her head enough to see Varan consulting a hand-held data pad. He had not moved any closer.

"And the word is, Doctor?" Caderi asked.

"Healthy and strong. She has endured recent stress -- but that's understandable, considering the circumstances."

Qinda almost smiled. She sensed that under his detached tones, Dr. Frober didn't approve of what had happened to her that evening -- and he let his employer know.

"She can take an immediate voyage?" Caderi asked. He sounded happy, relaxed -- triumphant.

"Full-term pregnancy and natural childbirth within the last three Sols."

"What?"

Qinda would have laughed at the shock that filled Caderi's voice and jerked him from the couch to stand at the doctor's side. She would have laughed, but a cold river of renewed fear and sorrow flowed through her.

"Any damage?"

Qinda forced herself into a cold, logical state. Her worst fears were coming true -- only it wasn't Haynash who had captured her for breeding. It was Adlan Caderi, with a reputation for power and resources some solar systems couldn't rival.

"No, sir. The young mistress delivered with no unwarranted hemorrhaging, and speedy recovery."

"How old is your baby, Qinda?" Caderi asked, his voice soft. She couldn't read his emotions in his voice and his face had grown watchful, wary.

"She died." Qinda let her voice break.

Her second child had perfectly formed, beautiful, but premature and too far from advanced help to see her first sunrise. To protect Edrori now, she had to concentrate on that little lost one; feel the pain again, so her captor would see her loss and only see half the truth.

"She died," Caderi echoed. "A girl." His voice caught. "The question is, do I believe you or not?" He glanced at Frober, who didn't react to their conversation. "You've read her psyche profile, Doctor. Where do you think her child is?"

"Sir." Frober frowned and clasped his hands behind his back, leaning forward slightly. "Considering her strong family bias, loyalty displayed for temporary companions, I say the child must be dead. She would not abandon her child, even to save her own life."

"Yes, that's what I think." His shoulders sagged. "I'm sorry. I know what it's like to lose a daughter." Caderi rested his hand on her shoulder.

"Can I get up now?" she asked, forcing herself to feel anger to keep her head clear of other, conflicting emotions. Caderi wasn't really sorry for her, was he?

"Doctor?"

"We're done." Dr. Frober held out a hand to help her sit up.

"Well?" Caderi demanded. He stepped back to sit on the arm of the nearest couch. His fingers dug into the upholstery. Qinda wished she knew what he wanted, so she could fight him.

Dr. Frober bent over the diagnostic table's control pad at the end where her feet had been. He pressed a combination of buttons with his long, bony, deft fingers, and stepped back. Qinda watched as reams of information painted itself on the computer screen in the foot of the table. She understood only the basics of the symbols used in a genetics scan. She knew enough to distinguish her structure readings from the other two Dr. Frober compared them against.

Her parents? Someone knew her biological parents? She tried to listen to him pointing out the variations and similarities, chromosome strengths and recessive factors, but the words blurred after only a few moments. Dr. Frober droned on, his bony finger a pointer while he explained each genetic variation as the results of the test scrolled up the screen.

"Your judgement, Doctor?" Caderi said, his voice breaking the numbing spell holding Qinda.

"I don't have the exact numbers, down to the fifth decimal." Frober made a dry, rasping sound that served for laughter. "However, I can vouch the young lady matches the pre-natal genetic testing, which established she had more than the required fifty-one percent genetic dominance to give her unquestioned legal inheritance." He held out his hand. Caderi shook it.

"Congratulations, sir," Varan said. He came down the steps now and joined them. All three turned to look at Qinda.

"Is someone going to tell me what all this means?" she demanded. A quiet portion of her mind scolded her temerity.

"You're a true Caderi, that's what it means." Caderi laughed, triumphant sparks in his eyes. "That was the last proof we needed, Qinda. You're my daughter."

Qinda clutched the edge of the table. She took a deep breath. "Suppose that's true. What does that have to do with what happened at my ship?"

How could she use Caderi's resources to find Kayl and Edrori, her scattered foster-family, and bring them all to safety? Could Caderi's power squash Haynash once and for all?

"To guard your life, of course." Caderi settled back further on the arm of the couch. His grin turned crooked. "You're Adlan Caderi's daughter, girl. I have enemies who wouldn't hesitate to kill you just to hurt me."

"If you didn't tell anyone, they wouldn't know I was your daughter."

"Some know. They've been hunting you since before you were born, to either kill you or use you against me." Caderi glanced over his shoulder at his assistant and the doctor. "Thank you, gentlemen. I'd like to speak alone with my daughter right now."

Both men bowed, to her and to Caderi and went to the door. Qinda noted they both looked rather pleased.

"What has your mother told you about me?" he asked, once the two men had left and the door hissed closed.

"My genetic mother?" She forced a bitter laugh. "My mother dumped me in a computer womb two Lunes before I was born. I'm lucky a foster family took me."

"They're lucky they raised you so well."

The cold of his voice told Qinda the kind of vengeance he could take on someone who had crossed him. She thought of her longing for vengeance on Haynash. Maybe she was a real Caderi -- and that thought chilled her more.

Time to weigh the facts.

She studied Caderi, noting his features and trying not to squirm when he examined her in return. She had his square chin and long-fingered hands. Were they as deft as hers in fixing things? Did she get her head for figures and data from him? She had the shape of her eyes from him; the green tint from her mother. And the touch of fire in her hair, when the light hit it just right, because Caderi's hair was once jet black. She had his sturdy chin and wide cheekbones and shoulders.

"Can't tell if you look like me or your mother, is that it?" Caderi asked.

"Are you disappointed?" she returned.

"That's a Caderi speaking!" He let out one sharp bark of laughter. "You have the wit, the sharp tongue -- you're going to need verbal weapons along with bombs and bodyguards, girl."

"If I'm your daughter, I'm not your property."

"In the Soledad System, a child is property."

"That's barbaric!"

"Our ancestral estate is in the Soledad System. You're my property until I issue your manumission papers. If ever." He eyed her, waiting for a response. Qinda kept her lips pressed tightly together. He grinned wickedly and continued. "You're a prisoner until I can trust you. Clear enough?" He waited, lips flattening, eyes darkening until Qinda nodded. "On the other side of that coin, you will be perfectly safe now." He slid off the arm of the couch onto the seat and gestured for her to join him. "However, I warn you not to try to command my people, trading on your position as my daughter."

"I'm not concerned with proving to anyone who I am. You have to prove it to me."

"I have genetic tests to prove my words."

"They can be rigged." She decided to give in and sit with him. She would learn more if she didn't fight him.

Her real, genetic, flesh-and-blood father?

Qinda compared him to Guerdon Cuestor, a farmer and bookkeeper on a tiny frontier planet. Cuestor spent everything he and his wife could earn to rescue children and raise them in a safe, loving environment. Caderi, despite all his power and influence, hadn't been able to keep one daughter close enough to raise her himself.

"Possibly. But people would believe you rigged the results, rather than me. What would I have to gain?" He met her eyes without smiling. Qinda thought she saw a dare in his gaze, a challenge for her to meet.

"Still doesn't give you any claim over me."

"Reduce our relationship to the bare terms, you were from a few Lunes of weakness for a very charming woman."

"How do I know you didn't lie to my mother, and she ran when she found out the truth?" She swallowed hard, fighting the seething that always came when she let herself wonder just why her mother had abandoned her.

Caderi gave her a thin-lipped smile. "Let's forget my claims on you for now. You have a drastic claim on me. You are my heir. The day I die, all my enemies will come searching for you. Powerful enemies."

"You don't have any other children? Can't you have any more?"

"It's not a question of can or can't, Qinda, it's a question of will or won't."

"Oh. You don't like kids." She wondered if that was good. Did that mean Edrori was safe from this magically-created grandfather, or in more danger than ever?

Fi'in, please, show me what to do. Show me what the truth is. Help me understand.

"Hardly. Half my staff was born to parents in my employ. I enjoyed watching them grow." He took a deep breath and visibly made himself lean back into the couch. "I wanted to watch you grow up, Qinda. Your mother took that from me."

"Maybe she did it to protect me."

"If she wanted to protect you, she wouldn't have told me about you as you grew up, simply to torment me."

"She knew where I was?"

"Your mother conceived you to get power over me and my estate. She was hired to give me an heir and then remove me after you were born. Her employers would divide your inheritance."

"What made her change her mind?" Qinda's chest tightened, creating a hurting deep down in her soul even as she tried to put mockery in her voice.

Caderi shrugged, his face a mask that said he didn't care. "Perhaps she had a better offer. She put you in a computer womb and vanished, so no one could trace her to you."

"You couldn't find me either."

"She threatened to kill you if I tried to find you."

"I wonder which of you I take after?" Qinda tried to give him a bland, uncaring look. Caderi didn't react, so she had no way to know if she succeeded.

"Why don't you come see?"

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