Текст книги "Trickster"

Автор книги: Стивен Харпер

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"Fuck," Gretchen muttered, looking down at Joe's motionless body. "Now what?"

"There," the boy said, pointing to a clump of ornamental bushes next to the equipment barn. "I'll help you drag him."

"You're quick on the uptake." Gretchen said as she grabbed one of Joe's wrists. The boy took the other. Together they dragged him toward the bushes.

"Faster on it than him," the boy said. "That was a really old trick."

"Still works," Gretchen pointed out, her calm voice belying the tension she felt. Someone could come by at any moment, might even be watching them now.

Once Joe's limp form had been stuffed into its leafy hiding place, Gretchen bent down and extracted his earpiece. Then she took the boy's hand and all but sprinted back toward the barn, only remembering at the last minute to slow down to a brisk walk when they came into sight of the house. Once they were in the equipment barn, however, they ran all the way to the equipment bay where Ben and Lucia were waiting. Computer parts and sprinkler equipment were scattered over the floor.

"Complication," Gretchen said as loudly as she dared above the noise. "Joe got suspicious. I had to hit him to keep him from calling Markovi, and I don't know how long he'll be out."

"Vik!" Lucia swore. She opened the nearly-empty equipment crate. "Get in, Jerry-hurry!"

The boy needed no further urging and jumped into the crate. Ben and Lucia carefully piled equipment on top of him while Gretchen kept a lookout, then they shut the lid and maneuvered the crate out of the bay.

Gretchen felt like a big sign hung over her head and flashed "Guilty! Guilty!" as they emerged with the crate into the bright sunlight and steered it toward the van. Ben tapped his ear and muttered to empty air while Gretchen and Lucia opened the van doors.

An alarm sounded just as they got the crate inside.

Douglas Markovi sat in his office and fumed. This stupid glitch had so far cost him an entire day's work, and it would show on the weekly statement. No doubt HQ would blame him for the whole thing and it would probably cut into his bonus, all because that goddammed bitch of a technician hadn't done her job right. He'd have to talk to legal about that, see what damages they could recover from Compulink. Meanwhile, maybe they could set up some lights in the cacao groves, get the hands off their lazy asses this evening and get some honest labor out of– An alarm blasted through the room. Markovi jumped.

"Attention! Attention!" barked the computer. "A hand has left the boundaries of Sunnytree Farm. Attention! Attention! A hand has left-"

Markovi waved a frantic hand over his desk computer and the holographic screen popped up. The alarm continued to blare. "Billy, close down the exits and show me which hand has left the farm. And shut off that goddammed noise!"

The alarm instantly shut off. "All hands are accounted for," the computer said.

"What? But you just said someone had left."

"Please restate request."

Markovi ground his teeth. "Billy, explain the inconsistency in the last two reports."

"No inconsistency found. All hands are accounted for."

The vidscreen chimed and flashed the words Incoming Call. Markovi tapped his desk. Alex appeared on the wall looking worried. "What's going on boss? Did someone go AWOL?"

"That's what I'm trying to figure out," Markovi snarled. "Get your ass down to the quarters with Joe and do a physical head count. I want everyone-"

He was cut off from another blast of alarm noise. "Attention! Attention! A hand has left the boundaries of Sunnytree Farm. Attention! Attention!"

"Billy, shut the fuck up!" Markovi yelled, and the computer obeyed. "Billy, run a count of all hands."

"All hands are accounted for."

"Billy, did any shackle bombs go off?"

"Negative."

The vidscreen flashed another incoming call, and a moment later, one of the Compulink techs-the wimpy one who Markovi had yelled at earlier-appeared on it.

"What do you mean?" Markovi demanded. "Does this have something to do with the alarm system?"

"How the hell did we get a goddammed virus?" Markovi barked. "Our goddammed system is isolated."

The tech shrugged. "We can try to track it down for you, sir, since we're here."

"It won't be our emergency rates, sir," the tech said. "We're already on the premises, so-"

"Attention! Attention! A hand has left the boundaries of Sunnytree Farm. Attention! Attention!"

"Shut up, Billy!" Markovi screamed. Then to the tech, "Just fucking fix it!"

"Attention! Attention!"

Markovi had had it. "Billy, shut up and take the hand alarm system off-line for ten minutes. No more."

"Acknowledged."

"Now get off your ass and get to work," Markovi ordered. The tech nodded and vanished from the screen.

Ben poked his head into the van. "Go!"

Lucia dePaolo muttered a quick prayer to Irfan and set to work, her white-scarred hands moving with swift, serene efficiency. The boy watched with both interest and trepidation as Lucia forced open the control panel on his wristband with a tiny pick and started on the electronic lock within. He stood inside the crate while Gretchen kept a lookout through the van window. His bands were newer than the ones she was used to picking, and they were going to take longer to work than she had thought.

"What if you make a mistake?" the boy whispered.

"I won't make a mistake," she told him quietly. "Just hold-" She broke off and stared at the band.

"Hold still?" the boy asked.

"Seven minutes left," Gretchen said.

Lucia's face remained expressionless, belying the pang of fear that temporarily overwhelmed her usual calm. The wristband contained a small detonator-another new feature. These shackles would do more than shock. Any slave who left the boundaries of the farm would probably lose a hand and a foot-easily repairable if he were found quickly enough, and a one-footed slave wasn't likely to be running anywhere. The bombs would doubtless also go off if she didn't get the bands removed before the alarm system came back on-line and detected tampering. Lucia spent several precious seconds debating whether she should first remove the shackles or disarm the bombs.

Lucia took a deep breath and murmured a short mantra to restore her peace of mind. This was a simple puzzle, one she could solve with Irfan's help.

"Five minutes," Gretchen said, then gasped. "Oh shit-it's that Alex guy. He's coming over to the van."

Wasting no movements, Lucia pushed the boy down into the crate and slid in after him. She fumbled around in the dark for a moment, pulled a flashlight from her belt, switched it on, and put it in her mouth. The boy huddled, scared and unhappy, on the floor of the crate as Lucia grabbed for his wrist again. Dim light, cramped quarters, time running out. Another deep, calming breath. Irfan was with her, everything would be fine.

"You guys seen Joe anywhere?" she heard Alex say.

"Not lately," Ben said. "Why?"

"I can't raise him." Alex paused. "Aren't you supposed to be working on the computer virus?"

"Nancy's already gotten started," Ben said. "She'll have the alarm system cleared up pretty quick, so Denise and I came back here for the program disks we'll use to check the rest of the system." His voice got louder. "You did bring them, didn't you, Denise?"

"There in here somewhere," Gretchen shot back. "Probably won't take more than three minutes to find them."

Lucia pressed another section of the lock with her electric stylus and the wristband popped open. Lucia caught it just before it thudded to the floor of the crate. Mouth dry as a raisin, she reached for the boy's ankleband. This one should be easier since she now knew the lock mechanism better, but she had little time, so little time. The boy was shaking noticeably. He had to know about the shackle bombs. Telling the slaves about such a thing would be a powerful deterrent against escape.

For a moment Lucia considered stage-whispering to Gretchen that she needed more time, that Ben should contact Markovi and tell him to keep the alarm system off-line for a few more minutes. Then she realized that as "Nancy" she was supposed to be working on the computers in the equipment barn and there was no way Gretchen or Ben could know that she needed more minutes. Activating her earpiece and explaining to Ben over the radio, as "Nancy" would have done, would eat up too much time.

"Two minutes," Gretchen murmured.

The ankleband came off.

"Done!" she said hoarsely. "Go!"

"Those disks aren't here," Gretchen said loudly. "We'll have to go back and get them while Nancy finishes up. It'll only take a minute."

"Better go," Ben said, presumably to Alex. "Time is money, after all."

Lucia poked her head cautiously out of the crate in time to see Ben all but leap into the driver's seat. He slammed the door and drove away as quickly as he dared. Just as the van was about to round the first bend in the driveway, Lucia caught sight of a figure through the van's tinted rear windows. It was a man, and he was staggering as if drunk.

"Who's that?" she said, pointing.

Gretchen glanced out the window. "Shit! It's Joe. He can't call for help because I took his earpiece, but once someone sees him-"

Ben floored it. The van careened around the driveway curves beneath the dark shade of the cacao trees. Lucia's heart was in her throat, and no amount of deep breathing slowed its pounding. How long would it take Joe to sound the alarm? And what would– "Vik!" she cried, and dove back into the crate. Shoving aside the startled boy inside, Lucia scrambled to recover the slave shackles. The van rounded another curve, making the job harder. The boy lost his balance, fell against her. At last Lucia thrust the bands at Gretchen. "Toss these out the window. Quick!"

Gretchen obeyed and the shackles vanished into the mulch surrounding the cacao trees. A moment later, a muffled boom rattled several trees. Pipes rose out of the ground and sprayed fertilizer again. The main gate was in sight-and it was shut. Ben aimed a remote control at it, and they began to grind open. Before the van reached them, however, the gates froze, then started to slide shut. Ben swore and tried the remote again. Nothing.

"They've figured out what's going on and changed the codes already," Ben said. "Hold on to something!"

Lucia just managed to grab the crate's rim before Ben slammed his foot down. The van leaped forward. Behind her came a yelp and a thud from the crate as the boy lost his balance. Gretchen was flung backward against the rear doors. They popped open. Gretchen shrieked and barely managed to snag a cargo handle. Her feet dragged the ground behind the speeding van.

"Gretchen!" Lucia launched herself from the crate. The van rushed toward the closing gates, but Lucia didn't dare spare a glance to see if the opening were wide enough for them. She caught Gretchen's wrist and pulled, but Gretchen couldn't get any purchase on the rushing ground to aid in the effort. Lucia braced herself against the floor and, with a bone-cracking heave, yanked as hard as she could. There was a horrendous screech of metal and a shower of sparks as the gates scraped the sides of the van. Then they slammed shut on Gretchen's foot. Gretchen screamed and tumbled into the van on top of Lucia. Lucia disentangled herself, got the doors shut, and turned to look at Gretchen's tight, pale face.

"My foot," Gretchen moaned. "Oh god, my foot!"

Steeling herself, Lucia looked down, expecting to see crushed bone and spurting blood. Nothing of the sort greeted her. Gretchen's shoe was missing and her trouser cuffs were torn, that was all.

"You still have it," Lucia said. "Blessings to Irfan for that. Let me have a look."

Ben, meanwhile, had turned onto the main road and was once again driving at breakneck speed. Lucia touched Gretchen's foot, and the blond woman howled in pain.

"It's broken," Lucia said. "And you have some abrasions on your legs. We'll have to have Harenn take a look when we get back to the ship. You were lucky, I think."

"It sure as shit doesn't feel lucky," Gretchen growled. "God."

The van slowed, and Lucia glanced out the window in time to see Father Kendi detach himself from a patch of brush near the Sunnytree Farm wall. A thin rope hung over the wall behind his hiding place. The other end, Lucia knew, was tied to the slave shackles that carried a frequency she had taken from the copycat. Father Kendi had been hauling the shackles over the wall with the rope and then tossing them back in order to set off the escaped slave alarm.

Father Kendi hopped into the passenger seat. "What happened to the van?" he asked. "We're going to lose our damage deposit."

"We had to make a break for it. The van almost got caught in the gate," Ben said. "So did Gretchen, for that matter."

"Just drive, computer boy," Gretchen snapped. "My foot isn't getting any less broken back here."

Kendi looked suddenly panicked as the van moved onto the road and zipped back toward the city. "They know what we did? All life-they'll call the cops."

"Not for a while, they won't," Ben said. "They'll have to find the chip Gretchen installed first. Until then, they're going to find they can't reach anything but one of the downtown porn shops. I give it an hour, and by then we'll be long gone."

Kendi laughed, then turned in his seat to face the boy. "So you're Jerry, huh? I'm Father Kendi of the Children of Irfan. How's it feel to be a free man?"

"I'm really free?" the boy said in wonder. He held out his bare wrist and looked at it.

"Damn straight," Kendi told him. "And not only that, there's someone back on our ship who's dying to meet you."

CHAPTER THREE

"We must protect our children not because they are innocent, but because they are powerless."

– Ched-Balaar Child-Rearing Manual

Harenn Mashib sat stiffly at the pilot's board of the Poltergeist. If she moved, even dared to blink, she would start clawing at the walls. Kendi had just called to tell her they had Bedj-ka and that she needed to make sure the ship was ready for take-off. Harenn wasn't a pilot, couldn't fly even a paper airplane, but she could switch everything on, prime the systems, and get take-off permission from the spaceport authorities. All this she had done. Now all she had left to do was wait.

Harenn felt like she had been waiting forever. She still remembered with excruciating clarity the day she had come home to find her baby missing and her husband gone. Initially Harenn had assumed Isaac had taken Bedj-ka and gone out, perhaps to the park or for a walk. She had enjoyed an hour of solitude, even taken a nap. But when evening came and Isaac didn't return, she became worried, then frantic. She called everyone she knew, everyone they both knew, but no one had seen them. Finally she called the Guardians, the police and legal force for the Children of Irfan. Late the next day a Guardian Inspector named Linus Gray informed her that a man matching Isaac Todd's description had been seen carrying a baby on board a slipship. Inspector Gray also told her that his partner had gotten hold of some contacts on other planets, contacts who were experts in the underground slave trade. They had heard of Isaac Todd.

"It seems your husband has been pulling this game for years," Gray told her. "He marries a woman, gets her pregnant, and then sells the child into slavery before vanishing to another planet and doing it all over again."

"But this is not true," Harenn protested. "Isaac loves me, and he loves Bedj-ka."

"According to my contacts," Gray continued softly, "he has unexpressed Silence-genetically Silent but unable to enter the Dream. His Silent genes, however, always breed true. All his children are Silent, and immensely valuable on the slave market. Ms. Mashib, your husband is a con artist of the worst kind. It's probably not much comfort, but you aren't the first woman he's fooled."

Gray continued to talk about how the Guardians would do everything in their power to find Isaac but now that he was off-planet, the odds were low and so on and on. Harenn barely heard. She was thinking about how insistent Isaac had been about having children, how fierce he had been about making love, how ecstatic he had been when she told him she was pregnant. Her cheeks burned with shame at her naivete and vulnerability.

After Gray left, Harenn barricaded herself in her tiny home, the one that was now only hers. The thought of going outdoors made her sick. Not only was there the crushing grief at the loss of her child, but also the fact that everyone was surely either laughing at her stupidity or clucking their tongues in sympathy. Which was worse? She couldn't tell, but there was no way she could face either one.

In the end, it was the memory of her mother's funeral that saved her. Harenn found herself sitting on her bed with the veil she had worn to the service, which had taken place six months before Harenn met Isaac Todd. The cloth was soft, flimsy, and opaque, like a secret. Harenn had hazy memories of a place with stone walls, dark-haired men, and veiled women, and she knew Mother had fled this place, but Mother had always refused to talk about it. Sometimes, when she was feeling insecure or unhappy, Mother would wear her veil for a few days, then remove it without comment. Mother's death had been a devastating blow in itself, and Harenn had decided to hide her own grief behind the impenetrable cloth, a shield between her and the rest of the world. Harenn looked down at the veil for a long time. Then, with grim determination, she slipped the hooks behind her ears to hide her shame and went out into the world to find her son.

Harenn was already a certified nurse with the Children of Irfan, but nurses with no other skills didn't go on slave rescue expeditions, so Harenn learned engineering and joined Mother Ara Rymar's crew of seekers. Everywhere she went, she looked for clues to her son, and always she came up empty. In the process, Harenn learned the arts of disguise and makeup, making her even more valuable to Mother Ara's expeditions. And always the veil stayed with her. Nine years later, Harenn helped smuggle a Silent street hustler named Sejal out of the Empire of Human Unity, and like a genie showing gratitude at being released from his bottle, Sejal had told her where to find her little Bedj-ka.

Now she sat in the pilot's chair of the Poltergeist and waited for his return, afraid to move for fear she would wake from a strange dream. What did Bedj-ka look like? How would he react when he saw her? How would she react? Harenn's imagination continued to portray Bedj-ka as a babe in arms, though she knew better. Kendi had said over the communicator only that Bedj-ka appeared healthy and uninjured and that they would be there in less than half an hour.

Out of the entire nine years she had waited, this half an hour was proving to be the longest. Even the busywork she had tried to create for herself among the engines had failed to occupy her mind. In the end, she merely sat and waited.

"Attention! Attention!" said the computer at long last. "Father Kendi has returned to the ship."

Harenn bolted from the bridge. She flew down the corridor to the airlock hatchway, veil fluttering in the breeze. In the entry bay, she skidded to a halt and covered the returning group in one swift glance. Kendi looked triumphant. Lucia wore her usual serene expression, though she was rubbing the small figure of Irfan she habitually wore around her neck. Ben was carrying Gretchen, whose face was pale with pain. And standing next to them, looking shy and uncertain, was a boy with dark hair and eyes. Harenn's breath caught. The resemblance to Isaac was so strong that if she had seen him at random on the street, she would have instantly recognized him as Isaac's son. Harenn tried to speak, but her throat closed up.

"Hi," the boy said to her.

"Bedj-ka?" she blurted.

"This is Jerry," Kendi said. "He says that's the name he's always had. Markovi only changed his last name."

Harenn found she couldn't move. Nine years she had dreamed of this moment, longed and yearned for it. Now it was here and she didn't know what to do.

"Ben, take Gretchen to medical," Kendi said. "We'll get her fixed up as soon as we can. Lucia, get to the bridge and get us the hell out of here before the cops show up."

The three of them left, leaving Harenn, Kendi, and Bedj-ka-Jerry? – alone. Kendi squatted, bringing his head down to Bedj-ka's level.

"Jerry," he said, "remember how I said there was someone on the ship who wanted to meet you?" At Bedj-ka's mystified nod, he continued, "Jerry, this is Harenn Mashib. She's your mother."

Harenn's throat thickened again. She wanted to sweep Bedj-ka into her arms and hold him close, but she still couldn't move.

"Mother?" Bedj-ka said, and for a moment Harenn thought he was talking to her. Then she realized he was only echoing Kendi. "She can't be my mother. My mother's dead."

Something broke and Harenn found she could speak. "Is that what they told you?" she said hoarsely. "That I was dead?"

"That's why we were slaves-all us kids at the Enclave," Bedj-ka said. "Our parents were dead, and the Enclave bought us and we had to pay them back by growing up and working in the Dream. Then that weird stuff happened and none of us could feel the Dream anymore, so they sold us. They said we were no longer blessed."

"I'm not dead," Harenn said. "You were taken from me and I've been looking for you ever-"

"Why are you wearing a veil?" Bedj-ka interrupted.

Harenn tore the veil from her face and flung it aside. Kendi looked startled-it was the first time she had ever unveiled in his presence. The ship rumbled slightly beneath Harenn's feet as the Poltergeist took off. Bedj-ka looked at her face and Harenn felt naked. She could feel the tears standing in her eyes.

"What did you call me? Bed-kee?"

"Bedj-ka," Harenn said. She squatted in front of him. "It was the name I gave you when you were born."

"Where was I born?"

"On a planet called Bellerophon in a place called Treetown. It is a city built among trees that are so tall you cannot see the tops from the ground."

"Why didn't you come and get me before now?"

"I did not know where you were." The questions came rapid-fire, and they made Harenn feel like she was kneeling in some kind of strange dream. "I looked and I searched, but I couldn't find you. Until now."

"I'll leave you two alone," Kendi put in, rising. "Harenn, as soon as you feel up to it, I need you to go down to medical and look at Gretchen. Her foot was broken getting Jer-Bedj-ka out of Sunnytree." And he left.

"That was rigid!" Bedj-ka said. "The gates slammed shut behind the van and I thought they had chopped Gretchen's foot off but it was only broken and Lucia was great the way she got my shackles off even though she couldn't see because it was dark in the crate, but they didn't tell me the bomb in the shackles was a major problem until after it was all over. Are you really my mom?"

The sudden flood of words put Harenn off-balance and it took her a moment to realize Bedj-ka had asked her a question. "Yes," she said.

"I always wondered what my mom was like and so did the other kids I guess, but none of us thought we'd ever get to find out because they told us our parents were all dead, or at least that's what Matron told us. She was really strict but I think she liked us, though Ned hated her because she always punished him whenever he mouthed off to her or called her names. I could tell she was upset when Patron said that we'd all have to be sold now that we'd lost our Silent blessings and couldn't touch the Dream. Where's my dad?"

"Your father?" Harenn temporized. It was the one question she hadn't been sure how to answer. Harenn's knees were getting tired from squatting in front of Bedj-ka, so she simply sat on the floor of the entry bay. Bedj-ka sat next to her, a stream of chatter pouring from his mouth. Harenn noticed he mostly stared straight ahead at the wall opposite them, though every so often he stole a glance at her face. Harenn wanted to put her veil back on, hide behind it. It had become a part of her after so long and going without it was like appearing in public in her underwear. But she left the veil on the floor where she had dropped it.

"I have a dad, don't I?" Bedj-ka was saying. "Everyone has to have a dad. Is he dead then? Is that why you don't want to say?"

Harenn settled on the truth. He would find out eventually, anyway. "Your father's name is Isaac Todd. He was… he was the person who sold you into slavery when you were a baby."

"That's what happened to Ginny. She was the only one of us who knew something about her parents, but they sold her, though she didn't say why and I think she used to cry about it at night a lot. I could hear her because when we were real little they let all of us sleep in one big room but when we got older they put the boys and the girls in separate rooms. I thought it was really stupid but Matron said those were the rules. Was my dad mad at me? Was that why he sold me?"

"Your father was… a very sick man, Bedj-ka," Harenn said slowly. "He valued money more than human life. You were a beautiful baby who brought me joy in every moment, and I was devastated when Isaac took you from me. If I had known what he was going to do, I would have destroyed suns and planets to stop him." Every fiber in her ached to snatch this child into her arms, but she didn't know how he would respond, didn't want to frighten him. That was one of her great fears-that he would reject her or show anger at her. Hesitantly, with slow, trembling movements, she put one arm across his shoulders. The boy continued chattering.

"The only place I remember is the Enclave and Matron and Patron and the other kids. I didn't like being a slave, especially when I saw other kids who belonged to free parents who could go wherever they wanted and do whatever they wanted, but Matron told us we were Silent and that meant we were blessed and that we had to be protected so we could learn how to go into the Dream and do stuff in there for the Enclave. Matron told us stories about slaves who were beaten or starved or sold away from their families and she said we were lucky to be in the Enclave, but then they sold us anyway and I ended up at Sunnytree Farm and it was really hard work and I was scared of some of the other slaves there because they would look at me funny when I getting undressed every night but then that Gretchen lady came and I'd heard stories about the Children of Irfan so I knew it would be okay to go with her and now you're my mom? I've always wanted a mom. Besides Matron, I mean."

A jumble of emotions piled up inside Harenn. Apparently Bedj-ka hadn't been abused, had been with people who had taken good care of him, and the Children had taken him out of slavery before anyone had done anything terrible to him. For this she supposed she should be grateful. Instead she felt cheated. She had missed seeing him walk for the first time, say his first words, attend his first day of school. The tears that had been building in her eyes suddenly spilled over. Bedj-ka noticed them.

"Why are you sad?" he asked with sudden apprehension. "Did I make you cry? Don't send me back to the farm, I promise I won't make you cry again, I really promise."

This time Harenn gave in to her impulse and, for the first time in nine years, hugged her son tightly to her. "I would never, ever send you away, Bedj-ka," she whispered fiercely in his ear. "No matter what."

She held him for a moment longer, then released him and stood up. "Now I should go down to medical and see to Gretchen's foot. Come with me?"

"Are you a doctor?" Bedj-ka asked, getting to his feet. "I always wondered what my mom and dad were like and what they did for a living but I never thought about anyone being a doctor."

"I am not a doctor, but I am an experienced nurse and medical technician, so I can perform many straightforward procedures, including healing fractured bones. I am also the engineer for this ship."

"An engineer? Rigid!"

They were halfway down to the medical bay before Harenn remembered she had left her veil on the floor.

Kendi entered the quarters he shared with Ben and flung himself down on the sofa. The living room was dimly lit. With the Poltergeist in slipspace, the windows were darkened to block out the nauseating view of swirling, clashing colors. Ben sat cross-legged on the other end of the couch holding a black, star-shaped piece of computer equipment the size of a basketball.

"All life, what a day," Kendi said. "I'm wiped and wired at the same time. How's Gretchen?"

"Complaining as usual," Ben replied. "I suppose that's a good sign. Harenn cleaned her up, put her foot in a heal-splint, and gave her some painkillers. The heal-splint has an anti-grav unit on it so she can walk, but it'll take a week or so for the bone to heal completely."

"How are she and Bedj-ka doing?"

"They seem to be getting along okay, but I'm willing to bet they're both feeling overwhelmed."

"I know the feeling." Kendi rubbed his face.

Ben set the piece of equipment aside to run a hand down Kendi's arm, and Kendi scooted over so he could lean against him. Ben always felt so reassuringly solid, something he could cling to when the rest of the universe seemed to wash up and down like an angry ocean.

"When do we get to Drim?" Ben asked, draping an arm down over Kendi's shoulder and resting his hand on Kendi's stomach. He smelled like soap.

"Lucia says three days and two hours," Kendi said. "We spent three days getting Bedj-ka back, so that'll leave us with seven weeks and one day before we have to return the ship to the Children. Bellerophon is a week away from Drim, though, so we actually have only six weeks and a day to look for my family."

"Lucia's flying the ship right now?"

Kendi nodded. "I asked her if she wanted to drop out of slipspace once we were a safe distance from Klimkinnar and get some rest-she looked kind of tired-but she said she was good to go as long as you can relieve in her in a few hours. I can take over from you, and then we can get back to a more regular pilot schedule until we arrive." He puffed out his cheeks. "Then I should double-check our fake credentials, pop into the Dream long enough to make sure Sunnytree or L.L. Venus haven't decided to spend the money to set up an inter-planetary squawk using what few Silent can still get into the Dream, and-all life, how did Ara handle all this without going over the edge?"