Nothing had actually happened yet; if these brats at- tempted violence, she could stop it in seconds with a flood of sleepgas. And Blaize knew that as well as she did. Nan- cia saw no reason to give up her anonymity just to rea.s.sure him. He'd been brave enough when he was picking on Polyon alone; why, for heaven's sake, couldn't he stand up to the rest of them?

"But then, Blaize never did have the guts to do something as decisive as telling" Polyon dismissed his cousin with a brief nod. "We'll let him think it over...

all the way to Angalia. It'll be a long couple of weeks, little cousin, with n.o.body to talk to. And a much longer five years on Angalia. Hope you enjoy life among the veggie-heads. 1 shouldn't think anybody else in the Nyota system will have much to do with you." He swiveled to face the s.p.a.cED OUT display, and the other three turned with him.

"Oh - don't leap to a.s.sumptions so fast. I'm with 62.

AnmeMcCaffrey & you, definitely with," Blaize babbled. "There are pos- sibilities - I just haven't had time to think them over yet The coryrium mine, for instance - it hasn't been properly developed - maybe I could get a part inter- est in that. And PTA makes regular food drops to Angalia, who's to say how much of the food gets dis- tributed to the natives and how much gets transshipped to some place that can pay for it..." He spread his hands and shrugged jerkily. "I'll think of something. You'll see. I'll do as well as any of you!"

Polyon nodded again. His fist closed over the joyball and Thingberry's jeweled web spiraled down to enclose Asteroidland, trapping the others' play icons in a tissue of glittering strands. "Done, then. Five of us together. Here, we'd better each have a record." He drew a handful of minihedra from the pocket of his Academy grays and dropped them into the datareader. One by one, Alpha, Fa.s.sa, Darnell and Blaize identified themselves by hand and retina print and spoke aloud the terms and conditions of the wager they'd agreed to. Polyon retrieved the minihedra after the recording was over and handed one faceted black polyhedron to each of them, keeping the last for him- self "Better store them someplace safe," he suggested.

Fa.s.sa clipped her minihedron inside a silver wire cage that hung from her charm bracelet among tin- kling bells and glittering bits of carved prismawood.

She alone seemed in no particular hurry to escape Polyon's influence; while the others jostled to reach the exit door, Fa.s.sa fiddled with her charm bracelet and tried out the shining black minihedron in various places, as if her only concern was to see where it would show to best advantage.

As Alpha, Darnell and Blaize left the central cabin, Nancia wondered whether Polyon's quick actions and mesmerizing personality had made them forget that he alone, of the five, had not recorded his intentions63.

on the minihedra. Or were they simply afraid to chal- lenge him?

that it mattered. She had the entire scene recorded. From several angles.

"You'll see," Blaize repeated over his shoulder as he left. TH do better than any of you."

"Small time, little man," Alpha sneered on her way down the corridor, "small-time plans for a small per- son. You'll be the loser, but who cares? Somebody has to lose."

"She's wrong, you know," Polyon commented to Fa.s.sa. "Four of you have to lose. There'll be only one winner in this game." And he too left, twiddling his black minihedron between two fingers and humming quietly to himself.

Fa.s.sa The gleaming black surfaces of the minihedron flashed in the central cabin lights as Fa.s.sa turned her arm this way and diat, admiring the effect of the stark blackness against the jumble of silver and prismawood trinkets. The hedron was as black as Fa.s.sa's own sleek hair and tip-tilted eyes, an admirable contrast to the whiteness of her creamed and pampered skin. In its hard glossy perfection she saw a miniature of her- self. . . beautiful, impenetrable . . .

A sh.e.l.l full of dangerous secrets, Fa.s.sa stared at the mirror-smooth surfaces of the minihedron and saw her face reflected and distorted in half a dozen directions at once, a shattered self looking out, trapped in the black mirrors that distorted her lovely features to a mask of pain and a silent scream.

No! That's not me - that can't be me. She dropped her arm; the jingling silver bells on the bracelet tinkled a single discordant peal. Pushing off from the strange t.i.tanium column that wasted so much cabin s.p.a.ce, Fa.s.sa floated into a corner between display screens and a 64.

storage locker. "Blank screens," she ordered the ship.

The dazzling display of s.p.a.cED OUT graphics faded away, to be replaced by a black emptiness like the sur- faces of the minihedron. Fa.s.sa stared into the flat screen, lips parted, until the reflection of her own beauty rea.s.sured her. Yes, she was still as lovely as she'd always believed. The distorted reflections from the minihedron had been an illusion like the dreams that troubled her sleep, dreams in which her lovely face and perfect body peeled away to reveal the shrunken, miserable creature underneath.

Rea.s.sured, she stroked the charm bracelet with two fingers until she touched the sharp faceted surface of the minihedron. I keep my secrets, avid you keep yours, little sister. As long as she had the shield of her perfect beauty between herself and the world, Fa.s.sa felt safe.

n.o.body could see beyond that to the worthless thing inside. Very few tried; they were all too mesmerized by the outer facade. Men were rutting fools, and they deserved no better than to have their own folly turned back on them. If she could use their desire for her to enrich herself, so much the better. G.o.ds knew her beauty had cost her too much in the pastl Mama, mama, make him stop, wailed a child's voice from the recesses of her mind. Fa.s.sa laughed sourly at the memory of that folly. How old had she been then?

Eight, nine? Young enough to think her mother could stand up to a man like Faul del Parma y Polo, could make him give up anything he really wanted - like his daughter. Mama had closed her eyes and turned her head away. She didn't want to know what Faul was doing to their lovely little girl.

Ugly little girl. Dirty little girl, whispered another of the voices.

All the same, it had been Mama who stopped it, in a way. Too late, but still - her spectacular and public suicide had ended Paul's private games with his65.

daughter. Jumping from the forty-second story bal- cony, Mama had shattered herself on the terraces of the Regis Galactic Hotel in the middle of Faul del Parma's annual company extravaganza, the oneatt the gossipbyters attended. And the news and gossip and rumor and innuendo that surrounded the suicide of del Parma's wife had been splashed all over the newsbeams for weeks thereafter. Why should she kill herself? Faul del Parma could give a woman every-- thing. There was no history of mental instability. And everyone knew Faul del Parma never so much as looked at another woman, he only cared for his wife- well, one didn't hear so much about the wife, did one?

A homebody type. But he went everywhere with that lovely little daughter at his side, only thirteen but a heartbreaker in the making....

It occurred to a dozen gossipbyters at once that the daughter should be interviewed. And that had stopped it. Faul del Parma had whisked his daughter into a very exclusive, very private boarding school where no gossipbyters could find her and ask inconvenient questions.

Fa.s.sa twisted the minihedron on its clasp. Tkankyou, Mama. Even now, six years later, the story of the del Parma wife's suicide still made an occasional gossip- byte. Even now, Faul del Parma didn't want to risk having Fa.s.sa anywhere near him. So now that she was graduated from the expensive, exclusive school, he'd found a position for her with the least of his com- panies, Polo Construction, based on a planet in Vega subs.p.a.ce. And Fa.s.sa had practiced her bargaining skills for the first time.

"I'll take it. But not as your subordinate. Make over Polo Construction to me, and I'll go out to Bahati and manage the company and never trouble you again.

Call it a graduation present."

Call it a bribe for going into exile, Fa.s.sa thought, twist- 66.

Atme McCaffrey &f ing the minihedron back and forth until the sharp angles of the facets bit into her thumb and forefinger. Because when Paul had balked at giving her complete ownership of the company, Fa.s.sa had leaned elegantly on his desk and speculated aloud about her chances of getting a posi- tion with one of the major newsbeamers. '"They're aU very interested in me," she teased her father.

"Interested in picking up sleazy gossip about our family," Faul snapped. "They've no interest in you for your own abilities."

Fa.s.sa smoothed her gleaming black hair back from her face. "Some of my abilities are very interesting," she told him. She let her voice drop down into the husky lower register that seemed to produce such an effect on her male teachers. "And the del Parma y Polo family is always news. I bet some of the major newsbeam com- panies would just love to serialize a book by me. I could tell them all the secrets I learned from my father...."

"All right. It's yours!" Faul del Parma y Polo slapped his hand on the palmscanner beside his deskcomp, jabbed the hardcopy pad with his free thumb and ejected the finished minihedron with a glare for his daughter.

"You won't object if I scan it first?"

"Use a public scanner. You can't be sure of mine," Faul pointed out "I might have programmed it to give a false readout You'd better start thinking smarter if you want to make a success of this business, Fa.s.sa. But don't worry -it's all there. Ownership transfer and my palmprint to back it up. I wouldn't cheat you. I don't want you coming back to this office."

"Don't you, Daddy dear?" Fa.s.sa twisted forward over the desk, sinuous and flowing in her formfitting sheath of Rigellian spiderspin. She leaned dose enough to let Faul breathe in the warmth and subde perfume of her skin... and was rewarded by a flash of pain and desire in his eyes.

"Ta-ta, Daddy dearest." She slid from the desk and 67.

clasped the minihedron inside a coryciurn heart that dangled from her charm bracelet "See you around...

Idon't think."

"I wonder," Faul said hoa.r.s.ely, "how many of those Htde charms contain men's hearts and souls."

"Not many - yet." Fa.s.sa paused at the door and gave him a sparkling smile. "I'm starting the collection with you."

Now, three days out from Central, she had already added a second hedron to the collection. Fa.s.sa jingled the charm bracelet reflectively. Each of the sparkling bits of jewelry was a clasp or a cage or an empty locket, waiting to receive some trinket. She'd collected the charms over those lonely years at boarding school, spending the lavish birthday and Christmas checks from Faul on expensive custom-made baubles. One for each time that Faul had come to her room at night Only twenty-three hi all; strange, she thought, that less than two dozen carefully chosen nights over a period of four or five years could make you rot away from the inside. Twenty-three shining jewels, each as perfect and beautiful in its own way as Fa.s.sa was in hers; each as empty inside as she was.

No, not any more. Two of them are filled. Fa.s.sa pushed off from the wall with the tips of her fingers and floated gently through the main cabin, twirling the charms around her wrist Before she was done, she'd fill every charm with something... appropriate.

Andthenwhat?

No answers to that, no conceivable end to the future she'd mapped out for herself.

Blaize The central cabin was empty; Polyon's buddies had all slunk off to their cabins to think over their wager and its probable consequences. Good. Blaize knew he could perfecdy well have talked to Nancia from the 68.

fcf privacy ofhis own cabin, but somehow it seemed more real to come here and speak directly to the t.i.tanium column that contained her sh.e.l.l.

Besides, she wasn't answering him from the cabin.

He thought maybe she'd turned off the cabin sensors to give her pa.s.sengers privacy.

He cleared his throat tentatively. Now that he was here, and not so confident of his welcome, it seemed rather strange to be talking to the walls. Sort of thing that got you shipped off for a nice rest in a place like Summerlands Care, Inc. Blaize shivered. Not for him, thank you. If he ever did need medical treatment, he'd make sure to go to a clinic where that snake Alpha bint Hezra-Fong vtasnot operating.

"Nancia? Can you hear me?"

The silence was as absolute as that of the empty, black s.p.a.ce outside the brainship's thin skin.

"I know you're listening," Blaize said desperately.

"Watching, too. You have to be. / wouldn't close my eyes or turn my back on somebody like Cousin Polyon, and I don't believe you'd risk letting him sneak into your control cabin un.o.bserved."

His wild gestures as he made the last statement al- most overbalanced him in the ship's light grav field.

He grabbed at a handrail and made a dancer's turn into the center of the cabin, recovering from the near- stumble as gracefully as a cat correcting a mis-timed jump. Nancia's t.i.tanium column coruscated in rain- bow reflections of the cabin lights, sparkling and dancing around him. And she did not reply.

"Look, I know what you're thinking, but it's not like that. Really." Blaize grasped a chair back to steady himself "I mean, what could I do? Did you expect me to call them all criminals and wrap myself in my own integrity? They could've s.p.a.ced me before we got to Angalia, and called it an unfortunate accident"

Silence.69.

"All right," Blaize conceded. "They probably wouldn't have s.p.a.ced me. Especially if I told them you were a brainship and could bear witness against them."

Silence.

This was worse than the time he'd been locked in his room for a month.

"But that would have meant telling on you," Blaize pointed out, "and you didn't really want them to know you've been listening, did you?"

Silence.

"Well, what did you expect me to do, anyway?

They'd all have hated me." Blaize's voice cracked.

"Isn't it bad enough I have to go out to Angalia and spend the next five years handing out PTA boxes to some walking veggies? Do I have to start by losing my only friends in the whole star system?"

Nancia answered at last. "They are not your friends, and you know it."

Blaize shrugged. "Best imitations I've got. Look, I've spent my whole life being the family black sheep, the one n.o.body bothers with, the one n.o.body likes much, n.o.body respects. Can you blame me for want- ing to change that? Just once in my life I want to belong"

"You do," Nancia told him. "As far as I'm concerned, you do indeed belong with the rest of this amoral brat- pack. And as for respect,.. you can add me to the list of people who don't respect you. I don't believe you ran away from home three times, either. You haven't got the gumption to cross the street without somebody holding your hand."

"I did so!"

Silence.

"Once, anyway. And if I had run away again, it would've been just like I said. They'd have been wait- ing for me at the Academy. So what was the point? And 70.

what difference does it make? Worked out the same as if I'd actually done it, didn't it?"

Silence.

filaize decided to go back to his cabin before some- body drifted in here and caught him talking to the walls.

"One more thing," he called as he pushed off for the return. "I did win that scholarship. Under the name of Blaize Docem. You can check Academy records on that!"

Nancia maintained her silence. All the way to Angalia.

CHAPTER FIVE.

Singularity The neighborhood of the brainship collapsed inward on itself, spiraling down tornado-like to the Singularity point where Central Worlds subs.p.a.ce could momentari- ly be defined as intersecting Vega subs.p.a.ce. The ship's metachip-augmented parallel processors solved and op- timized the set of equations represented in a thousand-square matrix of subs.p.a.ce points, dropped out of that subs.p.a.ce into Decomposition, rode the col- lapsing funnel of s.p.a.ces with a new optimization problem to choose and resolve every tenth of a second.

To Nancia, Singularity was how she envisioned the an- cient Earth sport called "surfing"; balanced at the non-degrading point where decomposing subs.p.a.ces met, she recognized and evaluated local paths so quickly that the ma.s.sive optimization problems blurred together into a sense of skimming over a wave that was alwaysjust about to crash beneath her.

The Singularity field test she'd taken at the Academy had been simpler than this. There, she'd had to deal with only one set of parallel equations; here, the sequence of equations and diminishing subs.p.a.ces streamed past her in an incessant flow. It was chal- lenge, danger, joy: it was what she had been trained for. She swept over matrices of data and guided them to the ship's processors, choosing and resolving the ever-changing paths to Singularity with an athlete's single-minded concentration.

The same newsbeam that showed Nancia the sport of "surfing" had also had a section on a diving com- 72.

Ante McCaffrey & .73.

pet.i.tion. The dean lines of the divers' movements, the seconds during which they hurtled through the air as though they could give their bodies the lift and freedom of brainships, fascinated Nancia; she'd viewed the beam over a dozen times, marveling at what softpersons would go through for a few seconds of physical freedom. "Didja see how he ripped that dive!" the newsbyter had jabbered after one athlete's performance, then explaining that the term referred to the clean way the diver had entered the water without a single splash.

Nancia ripped a perfect dive through Singularity and came out into Vega subs.p.a.ce.

For her pa.s.sengers, with nothing to do during Sin- gularity and no way to filter the barrage of sensory data, the transition was markedly less pleasant. The few seconds of decomposition and reformation seemed like hours of wading through air gone viscous, picking their way among shapes distorted out of all recognition, in a place where colors hummed on the air and light bent around corners.

They gasped with relief when the ship broke through into normal s.p.a.ce again.

Nancia watched them staggering and rubbing their eyes and ears. She was rather surprised by the inten- sity of their reactions; the trainer who'd accompanied her through her Singularity test had not seemed to be bothered by the few seconds of sensory distortion. Per- haps practice made a difference to how softpersons took Decomposition. Polyon's first words after the return to normal s.p.a.ce suggested this might be the case.

"Well, mes enfants" said Polyon, "how did you like your first Decomposition? It's been so long since my first training flights that I've forgotten how it affects newcomers."

"Once is enough," said Darnell with feeling. "If I ever go home again, I'll take the six months of travel by FTL. Or better yet, I'll walk."

Fa.s.sa nodded vigorous agreement, then winced as if she wished she hadn't moved her head so soon.

"Have a Blissto," Alpha offered. "Works on hang- overs - ought to help with Singularity headaches too."

Darnell s.n.a.t.c.hed the small blue pills out of her hand and downed six of them in a single desperate gulp.