"Go on," she said in kasiri. Jes pushed at the panel and scrambled out.

Mish followed him.

'Bots moved at the main hatch, shifting large crates into the hold. One crate tipped and broke, and rich fabrics spilled over the metal deck. Mish ducked into a narrow alley between crates and Jes followed. She peered around a corner and jumped back. Jes squinted around her and saw a guard by the hatchway. The man wore a uniform of red and black, with the NewHome crest sewn onto the sleeve. He cradled a rifle in his arms.

Jes fisted his hands. One dumb guard.

Tri-Captain Delta-Three put her slim fingers to her lips, tensed, then vaulted over the crates.

"Wha?" the guard said. Then the Tri-Captain had her hands on his neck.

He slumped to the deck, lifeless. She spun around, taking in the entire hold, then gestured.

"Come on," she said. She drew her blaster from her belt and moved into the corridor. Jes and Mish followed her.

"We've got to get to the bridge," the Tri-Captain said. "Jes, you take the vanguard. Don't shoot unless you have to."

She put a blaster in Jes' hands. He nodded and ran ahead of them.

But the Tri-Captain wasn't here, and neither was her blaster. Besides, Jes thought, her blaster could punch through anything. Why didn't it ever punch through the ship's bulkhead and let the vacuum in? He'd have to think about that later. For now the guard could have been a mountain, for all the chance they had of getting by him.

Mish peered between the slats of a nearby crate, then stuck her hand inside. Jes watched her tease a box toward the slats, working it through layers of cloth. She urged the box around until she reached the catch. It clicked under her fingers. Yes risked a glance at the guard, who looked around the hold, then returned his attention to the 'bots. When Jes turned back to Mish, she held a large, flashing jewel in her palm. He opened his mouth to tell her that this was no time for filching things.

"How's it going?"

Jes froze.

"All right. Another load and they're done."

"Good. Avila wants the hold sealed and purged once they're finished."

"Not taking any chances, huh? Is he afraid the 'bots will rob him blind?"

"You watch it, soldier. You're not indispensable."

"Yes'm."

Footsteps clicked away. Jes heard the guard swear. He leaned against the crate and took a deep breath. The air smelled of fruit, and he poked his fingers into the crate. Berries. They'd looted fields and storehouses, too, he thought.

"Closing this end," a distant voice called. Mish touched Jes' shoulder and gestured that he was to be ready to run. He crouched and nodded. A hatch clanged shut at the far end of the hold. Mish stood and threw the jewel away from the guard. It made a startling, clacking sound as it landed.

"Hold it!" the guard shouted, and ran toward the noise. Mish and Jes bolted toward the door. As they reached the gate, another guard appeared and ran into Jes. Jes sprawled hard in the corridor, his wind gone. The guard made a surprised noise and staggered. Mish wheeled and kicked her into the hold, then slapped the control board. The doorway disappeared and Jes heard a soft "whump."

Vacuum. He thought of imploded berries, then of the two guards. He struggled to take a breath. His stomach felt queasy. Mish hauled him to his feet.

"We have to hide," she whispered.

Jes gasped for air. "The lifers," he said, choking.

"Too far. The storage holds. Can you run?"

Jes nodded and ran after her, holding his side. They skidded around a corner and he banged his ankle, but kept running. Voices sounded behind them.

Mish jerked open a door and waved at him. The 'Folly' lurched again. Jes slipped. Mish fell into the doorway. The door snapped closed behind her.

"Halt! Don't move!"

Jes lay still, his heart pounding. The deck felt cold against his nose.

Someone jerked him to his feet.

"It's a kid," one of the soldiers said. "Look."

He spun Jes around to face another soldier. Jes saw the corridor beyond the man's side. All the doors were closed. He began to sniffle.

"I want to go home," he bawled.

The soldiers laughed.

"Sure you'll go home, snuff. But you're taking a little walk first.

Kalet, take him to the bridge. Avila ought to be interested."

Hands clamped around Jes' wrists. He tilted his head back and howled.

"I want my mommy!" he cried. Then, in kasiri, he said, "I'm all right."

"Come on, infant," the soldier said, and hauled him away.

Hetch was staring at the stargrid. He looked sick. Beside him, a short, thin man in a red-and-black uniform poked the grid with his fingers and talked in a quick, low voice. The NewHome crest on his sleeve was picked in silver and ebony, and glittered in the light of the grid. The soldier held Jes by the neck and shoved him deeper into the room.

"General, we found something."

The thin man turned around and raised his eyebrows. "Since when, Hetch, do you run a flying nursery?"

Hetch spun around. The relief on his face disappeared into surprise and fury.

"You said you were shipping goods, Avila. Not children."

"I am. I'm not. Where are you from, child?"

Jes sniffled again. "I want to go home."

"Not a NewHome accent. Let him go."

Kalet released him. Jes put his hands to his neck.

"Where's he from, Hetch?"

"How should I know? I service fourteen worlds. I can't keep track of every child on all of them."

"I snuck in," Jes said. "I want to be a spacer."

Avila smiled. "So did I," he said.

Tham came in, under guard. He saw Jes and opened his mouth, but Hetch said, "You're supposed to relieve Merkit. She's taken us through two grabs.

She can't do another set."

"Yes, sir. I -- "

"And next time we're on planet, if I tell you to guard ship, you guard it. Look what sneaked aboard."

Tham looked at Jes. "'I' didn't see him, Captain."

"Get going," Avila said. "We leave in twenty."

Tham was herded off the bridge. Avila looked at Jes, frowning, then snapped his fingers.

"Fletcher."

"Sir?"

"You were at Barrier Two?"

"No, sir. Kleim was."

"Get him." Avila turned to Hetch. "All right, Captain, you follow us to Aerie, orbit until we clear you, and shuttle down the goods. Understand?"

Hetch crossed his arms and glared. "It's a Federation offense to hijack a registered transport."

Avila gestured and smiled. "This is West Wing, Captain, not Central. By the time Althing Green gets your complaint, we'll be well established on Aerie and you'll be crying for our trade. Think of it as advertising."

The captain snorted. "Then get your men the hell off my ship. I'll run your goods, but not your damned army."

"Oh, no. The hold's much too full, Hetch. I don't trust you. I'm leaving four guards, one for each of you. They can all pilot, so don't think they won't kill."

"And I don't want to run tail, either," Hetch said. "This crate'll bust up in your wake. Put me first."

"No way, Captain. Second, perhaps."

Hetch made a disgusted gesture and turned away. Jes stared at him, baffled. Could Hetch have betrayed them? He had pretended not to know Jes, had not said anything about Mish, but it might have been just to save his own skin. Jes touched his flute.

"General, you wanted to see me?"

"Kleim. You were at Barrier Two during the raid."

"Yes, sir."

Jes stiffened.

"Look at this child."

A hand took Jes' chin and turned his head. Jes looked into black eyes set in a dark, scarred face. The eyes narrowed.

"Well?"

Jes' head was jerked from side to side. Kleim's fingers hurt his chin.

"Kennerin, sir? Could be. Eyes and coloring are right. The man didn't have slanty eyelids, though."

"His wife's supposed to have slant eyes."

"Then yes, sir. Almost definitely."

The hand let go. Jes stared at Avila defiantly.

"Now, then, child, you are a Kennerin, aren't you?"

"I want to be a spacer," Jes muttered.

"And so you shall be." Avila's voice was full of good humor. "Give your spacejock a commendation, Hetch. He's done me a good turn."

"Yeah?"

"If Jason Kennerin risked his life to save a handful of strangers, what's he going to risk to save his son? A nice, bloodless conquest, Hetch. I thank you. Fletcher!"

"Sir?"

"Post Kleim and the other three here, and move out. Come along, young Kennerin." Avila took Jes by the upper arm and lifted him from his seat. "I'm going to show you what a 'real' ship looks like.

Jes looked over his shoulder as Avila led him from the bridge. Hetch's face was stony.

The two ships had uncoupled after 'Folly''s hold was loaded, and now moving between them was a cumbersome process, involving suits, guy lines, and fear. Jes hung midway across the line, with the suit ballooned out around him, and looked "up." The 'Folly''s side loomed over him, curving away at the top into a field punctured by the steady lights of real space. To his left Avila's ship hunkered close, identical to the 'Folly', save that her sides were decked with weapons mounts. Jes could see the bolts and welds which held them in place. Each ship carried the symbols of a merchant's registry. The soldier behind prodded Jes in the back, and Jes scrambled along the line. The ships looked as though they would rub together and crush him. Hands pulled him into the entry and shoved him in the airlock. His ears hurt.

The Tri-Captain flitted from ship to ship in a sleek, needle-like pod, slipped in and out of docking locks like water, and her ears never hurt. Jes was beginning, however, to doubt her evidence.

Avila's ship was new and shiny. The bulkheads reflected Jes' shape as he was stripped of the suit. He had watched them put it on him, remembering each move and maneuver. He watched now with equal care. A soldier took him by the shoulder, and he marched along a corridor behind the general. He passed closed doors, lounging soldiers, and a free-drop pole. The corridor looked like one on 'Folly', but cleaner. And more frightening. One doorway opened and a young girl looked out. She wrinkled her nose at the soldiers and withdrew.

Her cheeks were full, her arms rounded. Jes remembered the gaunt, terrified refugees his father had brought to Aerie three years ago. She's been eating other people's food, Jes thought. She might as well have been eating their bodies. The thought startled him.

The bridge was larger than 'Folly''s, with more seats and more controls. Jes was put in a seat to the side and webbed in. A guard stood over him. Avila sat beside the console and tapped the plates before him.

"'Grafit One' to all ships. 'Grafit One' to all ships. We enter grab in four, repeat, four. Order 'Grafit One, Folly, Helmsholm, Grafit Two, Equinox, Grafit Three, Frene's Best, Grafit Five'. Confirm and repeat. Over."