"I'm not through."

Bakar swore. "You watch him, Tham. That's an order." The mate stepped into the corridor and slammed the door behind him.

Jes took another bite and looked around the cabin. The metal walls and floor were clean but scuffed and stained. Someone had scratched words over the doorframe. Jes puzzled out the sounds, but although the script was Standard, the language was one he didn't know. Battered seats lined the room, many taped together where supports had broken or cushions ripped. A rack of vidchips hung on one wall, surrounded by photographs and prints stuck up haphazardly, one over the other. Pictures of heaps of fruit, pastries, meats roasted and dripping with juice, glasses of pale liquids, pots of stew. A sensum device lay on the floor, its stage littered with wires and screens. The Tri-Captain's ship certainly didn't look like this.

"Next project," Tham said, nodding at the sensum. "Work first, pleasure later. You finished yet?"

Jes crammed the last of the strip into his mouth and nodded.

"Okay, tube in the galley. Here, I'll show you."

The galley was the size of a closet. Every available space was covered with storage racks, heaters, dispensers, or keepers. Tham showed Jes how to squeeze the water from his tube, and put the empty tube in a mouth by the heater. The mouth sucked the tube out of sight.

"Where are we going?" Jes had to skip to keep pace with Tham's long legs.

"Engine room. Hold onto this." Tham tucked the box in his shirt, grabbed a pole in a recess, and plummeted out of sight. Jes gaped after him.

"Come on," Tham's voice called through the floor. "It won't bite you."

Jes gripped his flute and put his hand on the pole. The floor disappeared. He gasped, feeling the cool smoothness of the pole slipping through his clenched hand. Tham caught him at the bottom of the drop.

"Like that?" Tham put him on the floor.

"What is it?"

"Free drop. If you're down, it takes you up; up, it takes you down.

Come on."

Tham strode along an elevated catwalk. Metal hulks lined the room, each one a different color. Meters on their sides flashed rivers of numbers. A robot stopped below them, chittered, and scurried into an alley out of sight.

"Where are we?"

"Engine room. Watch yourself."

The walk descended, then bent and opened into a large platform. Jes stopped and gaped.

A semicircular console ran along one side of the platform, its top littered with dials, switches, screens, and other devices so mysterious that Jes could not name them, let alone determine their function. A series of mechanical arms perched along the top of the console; one or two or ten would swoop down, blurring with speed, and punch and poke and pry before springing to attention again. Small 'bots ran on tracks along the platform deck like a congregation of manic, mechanical dwarves, while overhead huge conduits pulsed with fluorescent colors. The air tingled with the smell of ozone. And the entire show was silent, save for the whish of air or the quiet tapping of plastic on plastic. Jes gaped. The Tri-Captain never went to or spoke about her engine rooms -- for all that was shown or said on the vidchipss, the 'Tiger' might have run on wishes.

"Where?" Jes whispered.

"Controls," Tham said at normal volume. Jes started and glanced around, but the silent show continued without a break.

"That's Merkit over there." Tham pointed at a figure almost lost amid the regiments of 'bots and hands. Jes saw a human form within a semi-opaque suit. Wires stretched in every direction, holding the suit upright a meter from the platform. Nearby, another suit dangled limp and empty. "She's got another hour of watch. And I get to bring us out of tau, damn the luck. I always pull the hard shifts. You coming?"

Jes followed Tham though the maze of tracks. He held his breath until they had reached the far side, then glanced back. Merkit seemed to be looking at him through the muddled clarity of her suit. Jes shifted the flute from hand to hand and hurried after Tham.

"Life bays," Tham said, slapping a bulkhead.

"What?"

"Lifers -- lifeships. Every ship's got 'em, and all in the same place.

Regulations. For emergencies, see? That's what this is for." Tham pulled the box out of his shirt. The bulkhead accordioned back, exposing a long, narrow bay. A slim, battered needle of a ship rested on tracks, its sharp nose pointed toward the outer bulkhead. Tham motioned Jes into the bay.

"Okay, cadet. This is important. Don't touch anything, hear me? You want to know what something is, you ask me. You got pockets?"

"Yes." Jes slapped at his hips.

"Put your hands in 'em."

Jes slid the flute under his belt and put his hands in his pockets, then followed Tham into the lifeship.

One narrow cabin stretched the length of the ship, with a control panel at one end and three-tiered rows of webs along the sides. Tham motioned Jes to one of the control seats, warned him again not to touch anything, and checked over the banks of meters before unlocking the panel and swinging it up and over. The multicolored guts of the control board lay exposed. Tham wedged himself under the board and began tinkering.

"What are you doing?"

"Box is a seeker. If the ship's in tau, it plucks the grab position from the main computers and heads the lifer to it. Regulation."

"Regulation?"

"Yeah. Every lifer's got to have one. Not that anyone sane ditches in tau -- 'cept Hetch."

"Captain Hetch?"

Tham grunted. "Crazy spiker. Made a bet with his captain once, way back, that he could reach grab before the ship did. Hand me that breaker, the green one. Right. Pockets. Anyway, Hetch jumps a lifer and takes off. Opens the emergency on top of the thrusters, beats it through in about four even.

Burned hell out of the lifer, of course." Tham laughed.

"How do you fly it?"

Tham squirmed around and looked at Jes. "Your hands in your pockets?"

Jes nodded.

"Keep 'em there. See those four red spots, top of the panel? Sequence, they close the lifer, open the bay, push out, and activate the thrusters."

"Is that all?"

"That's all for tau. Outside tau, you scan for destination, punch the coordinates over there, on the port side, and let the automatics take over."

"Oh." Jes peered at the panel. It was tilted against the left bulkhead and he had to twist his head to see it. "What's that big screen for, on the right side?"

"Sta'board."

"Sta'board? What's it do?"

"It doesn't do -- it is. Sta'board's right, port's left."

"Okay. What's it do?"

"Stargrid, viewer, readout -- all-purpose. You key it underneath, that slab of colors."

"I see them. What's the green switch for?"

"Emergency power. Like if you're running away from flotsam. There.

Here, take these."

Jes took his hands from his pockets and held the assortment of tools that Tham gave him. Tham wriggled from under the console, ran a few quick checks, then locked the panel into place again.

The speaker above the panel squawked. "Where's that kid?" Hetch's voice demanded.

Tham touched a switch on the seat's armrest. "Got him with me, Captain.

Lifer bay one."

Hetch swore. "Get him to hold four. We've got trouble."

"Yes, sir." Tham closed the switch and grabbed Jes' arm. "Come on, cadet, let's hump it."

"What's going on?"

"Hell should I know?" They raced through the control room. Merkit hung motionless amid flashing colors. Tham let go of Jes' arm as they reached the narrow catwalk. Jes ran ahead and stopped at the pole.

"How -- "he said.

Tham picked him up and grabbed the pole. Jes' stomach tightened as they rushed upward.

Mish and the captain stood at the far end of the hold. Hetch, kneeling, was fumbling around the floor panels.

"Oh," Tham said. He released Jes and pushed him forward. "Go on. See you later."

"Why?" Jes said, frightened. "Don't go."

"Go on." Tham pushed him. "Big secret." The spacer ran out of the hold.

Jes stared after him, then trudged toward his mother.

"There." Hetch grunted and lifted a panel from the floor. "It's shielded; you'll be safe."

Jes looked into the small, dark space below.

"Manny Hetch," Mish said. Her grin was strained. "I do believe you've been smuggling."

Hetch glowered and threw some cloth into the hole. "It'll be cold in there. Get in. No talking; it's not soundproof. I'll let you know when it's safe."

"Okay. Jes, you first"

"Why?"

Mish touched his shoulder. "Hetch got a beam from NewHome grab. They want to search the 'Folly'. We can't let them know we're aboard."

Jes glanced at Hetch, then climbed into the hole. Mish followed. Hetch dropped the panel back in place. In the sudden blackness, Jes reached out and took his mother's hand.

Jes closed his eyes and opened them again. It made no difference; the darkness was as dense as the silence. He could hear his own heartbeat. He wriggled. Mish put her hand on his shoulder and he stopped. A long time had passed since Hetch had closed the panel on them, then they felt the lurch as the ship transited out of tau, and then another long time happened. He wriggled again, and her fingers tightened. The Tri-Captain wouldn't hide, he thought. She'd be out there cutting down the enemy in hand-to-hand combat, not cowering in a smuggler's hole. Come to think of it, she probably wouldn't hang out with smugglers to begin with. Even if she didn't know about them at the time?

She'd know, Jes decided. The Tri-Captain knew everything.

He wondered how.

The pounding in his ears grew irregular, and Mish's fingers dug into his shoulder. He raised his face. Footsteps sounded, coming closer. More than one. More than two. Someone stamped overhead. Voices buzzed, just beyond comprehension. The footsteps moved away.

Jes let his breath out. Mish flexed her fingers and raised her hand to touch his cheek. The sound of her fingers on his skin was startlingly loud.

The 'Folly' lurched and steadied, and Jes heard the main hatches thunk open. He grabbed Mish's hand. He knew what to expect if vacuum flooded the hold. It was one of the Tri-Captain's greatest and most constant dangers.

Noises filled the hold, and Mish pulled him closer.

"Probably coupled with another ship," she whispered under the noise.

"Why?"

He felt her hair brush his cheek as she shook her head. He heard the peculiar, high-pitched hum of 'bots moving overhead. Mish put her fingers over his lips.

"I don't think there's anyone out there but 'bots," she said. "Loading something." She paused. "If they put something on top of us, we may not be able to breathe."

"Hetch said to stay put. We don't know what's happening."

"That was before." Mish knelt. Her fingers rasped against the panel.

Jes reached up.

"Here," Mish whispered. He touched her upraised hand and felt the edge-line near her fingers.

"Get ready."

He braced himself. The 'bots whined away.

"Now."

They pushed at the panel. It shifted sideways.

"Harder."

Another shove raised the panel a few centimeters. They pushed it aside a little. Pale light slid into the hole, and Jes blinked. Mish sucked in her breath and moved her head to the opening. She ducked back in again.