"Of course," she said. "Go ahead."

"Thank you," he said, and left. She heard Dana's step outside the room, and his voice, as he paused to give Binkie greeting. Did he want her? she thought. She thought so, yes. He came into the room. He was wearing a light gray jumpsuit, and the pale sheen of the fabric made his hair look even darker.

"You wanted to see me, Rhani-ka?" he said.

She smiled at him. "I wanted your company. Zed is ice climbing -- " she watched him for a response, and was disappointed -- "and I have a lot of work to do. I hoped you would sit with me."

He sat on the stool. "As you wish, Rhani-ka."

His obedience both pleased and annoyed her. d.a.m.n it, she thought, that's something Binkie would say. But then she remembered that Dana and Binkie had something important in common. She went to the com-unit, sat, and tapped in the information code for what she wanted. The screen blinked numbers and then said, IDENTIFY. She pressed her left thumb against the cool plastic.

Dana had come silently to stand at her side. "What are you doing?" he asked.

"I've requested a breakdown of our present storage and usage figures on dorazine. We have to allocate the limited supplies to serve the strongest need.

At present the need is greatest in the Barracks: after the Auction the demand on our stores will drop, but if the situation does not change, we may have to start using one of the legal dorazine subst.i.tutes, although they are not as effective.

Zed says the best of them is pentathine."

"I see," he said.

She was aware of everything about him: his arm, scant centimeters from her own, the set of his head, his eyes, dark as jet, his smell -- it reminded her, somehow, of rainwater. Impulsively she asked, "Dana, where did you go the other day? The day I was so irritable."

She could see at once that it was not a good question, and almost wished she could call it back. He looked at the screen, and swallowed. "I went to the Landingport, Rhani-ka."

"Main Landingport?" she said. He nodded. "What happened?"

He bit his lower lip. "The alarms went off, and I was Caged."

She felt a rush of sympathy for him. "You didn't know that slaves are not permitted within Main Landingport."

"I should have known." His face worked. "I didn't think. Seeing the ships -- I forgot I wasn't a Starcaptain."

"What happened when the Cage came down?" she asked, curious. Normally, she was only half-aware of the electronic net that sat shimmering above every gate. She had never seen anyone Caged.

"The guards drew their stuns. They questioned me. I -- " he caught his breath -- "played stupid. They logged my name through the computer and told me to get out."

"What do you mean, they logged your name?"

"They recorded that Dana Ikoro, a Yago slave, had been Caged at Abanat Landingport." His voice was even, but Rhani could hear the tension under it and understood what it was he would not say.

"Hmmph." She frowned, and then, slanting a look at him, ordered the com- unit to show her the Cage records logged at Abanat Landingport over the last two days. In a moment, a line of names winked on the screen. She ran through them: they were mostly tourists who had tried to get into Communications or Compsection with inadequate I.D., a belligerent crew member from one of the shuttleships, a drunk off the street -- there. DANA IKORO, SLAVE, FAMILY YAGO SYSTEM #56488B. With care -- she had never done this before -- she directed the computer to expunge the record.

As she pressed her thumb to the screen, verifying her right to order this operation, Dana said, "What are you doing?"

"Clearing the record," she said. She leaned back in the chair. "Now if anyone -- my brother, say -- should look this information up, your name is no longer on it. You are Yago property; I can do that."

She had thought he would be pleased. But his face only grew more strained. "If your brother asks me," he said, "I have to tell him, just as I told you. How will I explain to him that the incident is not on the record, if he looks and does not find it there?"

"You will say I took it off for reasons of my own," Rhani said sharply.

He nodded. After a moment, he said, "Thank you." He sat on the stool.

Rhani turned to the board and directed it to show her the dorazine figures again.

She could not but admire his self-control. She had not asked him why he had gone to Abanat Landingport: it might have been to watch the ships -- and it might have been to look for a way offplanet. If that was what it was, she didn't want or need to know.

She concentrated on the figures on the screen. Right now, her concern was the Auction. There had to be enough dorazine for the Auction. After the Auction -- she cued the screen to detail and asked the computer to break down the figures. How much of the dorazine allocated to the Auction was used there, and how much of it was actually used once the Auction was over, to quiet the slaves still in the holding cells?

Some. Not much. Nevertheless, pentathine could safely be subst.i.tuted in those cases, and that would save -- the computer added it up -- almost five thousand unit doses. Good. She smiled, pleased, and turned to tell Dana what she had just discovered.

He was no longer on the stool. Instead, he was standing to one side of the window, gazing at the street. "What is it?" she asked.

He beckoned. Curious, she crossed to look out. "Don't stand in front of the window," he said. Puzzled, Rhani went to his side, and he moved back so that she could take his place. "There's a man in the park," he said. "I think he's watching the house."

Rhani tensed. "What man?"

"Look at the gate," he said, "then look left, about ten meters this side of the big tree. He's wearing brown." She gazed at the green jumble. All she could see was the children in their bright-colored clothes, no man. "I don't -- " she began, and then did see him. He was staring fixedly at the house.

Despite herself Rhani stepped back. Angry, she said, "Who the h.e.l.l is he?"

"I don't know," Dana said. "A wacko, perhaps." He tapped his temple.

"Someone a bit crazy."

"In Founders' Green?" Rhani said. "How did he get through the gate?" She strode to the com-unit and, clearing the screen, told the computer to connect her with the Abanat Police Station.

"Officer Tsurada, please," she said when the communications clerk answered. "This is Rhani Yago; I have priority."

"Yes, Domna," said the clerk. The screen blanked.

"Is he still there?"

"Yes." Fuming, Rhani waited for the screen to show her Sachiko Tsurada's face.

Instead, the screen flashed VISUAL TRANS UNAV. PLEASE STANDBY. "I'm standing by," she muttered.

Sachiko Tsurada's voice sounded through the com-phone. "Domna, I'm patched through to you. How may I a.s.sist you?"

"Still there," said Dana at her back.

"There's a stranger in Founders' Green," Rhani said. "He appears to be watching the house, this house."

"Can you give me a physical description?"

Rhani scowled. "I can," Dana said.

"Do it," she said.

He crossed to the com-unit. "He's about 1.8 meters tall, pale skin, dark hair close-cropped to his skull, his clothes are brown with I think greenish trim -- "

"Eyes?" said the com-phone.

"I can't see them, he's too far away." He glanced at the window. "Rhani- ka, maybe you'd better see if -- "

"I will." She stood to one side of the window and gazed obliquely down.

He was still there. Dana spoke with Tsurada for a moment and then joined her.

"Officer Tsurada says that there will be police along in five minutes to check his I.D."

"Good."

Five minutes seemed to take a long time. Finally, she saw four people wearing the cream-colored jumpsuits of the Abanat police force approach the gate. The watcher seemed unconcerned as they traversed the flagstone paths. Two of them converged on him. She saw him reach into a pocket and produce I.D.

"They must have a miniscanner," Dana said, with interest. "Or else -- "

He did not finish. Or else what? Rhani thought. After some conversation, the man walked quietly out between the two police officers. It all looked very calm and cordial. Unconcerned, the children played around the fountain.

The com-unit beeped. She crossed to it and punched the phone line. "This is Rhani Yago," she said.

"Domna, this is Leander Morel, Abanat police. You requested we examine the identificaton of a stranger who appeared to be watching your house."

"Yes, I did. Who is he?"

The man on the other end of the line cleared his throat. "Domna, he is a member of the Federation Police Force, Drug Division. We verified his identification and requested his name, but he refused to divulge it, something he has a legal right to do. We questioned him, but he informed us that he would answer no questions and that all inquiries as to his a.s.signment should be directed to his chief, Michel A-Rae. We asked him to leave the park, which he did."

"A Hype cop!" Dana said.

Rhani gazed at the blank screen for a moment. "Thank you, Officer Morel,"

she said at last.

"Our pleasure, Domna. Anything else?"

She rubbed her chin. "Founders' Green is a private park. I don't like strangers there. Can we -- " She let the sentence hang.

Morel cleared his throat again. "I'm sorry, Domna," he said. "You can ask your lawyers, of course, but I don't think there's any way you can keep the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds out."

Dana chuckled. Rhani grinned. "Thanks, then. No further business." She cleared the line. "The drug police," she said. "What the h.e.l.l are the drug police doing, watching _my_ house?"

Dana could not answer her.

Rhani asked the same question of Zed, that evening. He had come from the iceberg just after noon, and had gone to his room saying only, "If anyone wakes me, it had better be for an emergency." His face was darkened on forehead and cheekbones, and he looked unbelievably weary. But in four hours he had awakened, ravenous, and strode into the kitchen to ravage Corrios' stores. He then showered, and joined Rhani in her room. As he entered the room, Dana -- who was lying on the rug -- scrambled up, tense. He had been sitting on the floor, absorbed in a booktape Rhani had given him.

But Zed simply nodded to him. Crossing to Rhani at the com-unit, he bent and lightly kissed the back of her neck. She turned in the chair. "Zed-ka." She smiled at him, face a softer mirror of his own, and he let his fingers trail along her cheek. Dana looked away.

"How was the climbing, Zed-ka?" Rhani said.

"Good," said Zed. He sat in the chair. "Very good." Dana looked at him curiously. He was tuned to Zed's mood; he could not help it. The Net commander sat with head thrown back, arms loose along the sides of the chair, throat exposed -- Dana had never seen him so relaxed. He seemed sated, not with the intense sensual pleasure of another person's pain but with something deeper and less terrible. Suddenly his head moved: he looked at Dana, and grinned.

"Ever been ice climbing?" he said.

"No," Dana said. "Mountain climbing, on Pellin."

"Ah," said Zed. "Ice is different. You should try it sometime."

Rhani turned her chair to face him. "Zed-ka, the drug police were watching this house today."

Zed straightened. "What? Tell me." Rhani did so. Their faces gleamed in the soft lamplight, profiles matching. Dana listened and watched, marveling at how alike they were, and how unalike.

Zed tapped his fingers on the chair arm. "I wonder why they bothered," he said. "They can't think you invite your suppliers to your home."

"I don't know," Rhani said. "If I could find someone willing to sell me dorazine, I might." She bent over the com-unit. "Zed-ka, let me show you what I did today."

Rising, Zed went to peer over her shoulder. Figures flashed in green across the screen. "If we subst.i.tute pentathine for dorazine here, here, and here," Rhani said, "we can save sixteen thousand unit doses over the next three months." She cited figures. Dana's attention wandered.

He glanced at the viewer in his hand. The booktape Rhani had given him was a Nexus historian's _History of Chabad_. He was surprised she even owned it, since the historian made no pretense at objectivity: he was venomously anti- slavery. A sentence from it ran through Dana's mind. "_The wealth and febrile pleasures of the tourist-minded aside_," Nakamura had written, "_Chabad is and remains a prison. None of its citizens are free: some are slaves, the rest, jailers. This latter category includes the members of the so-called Four Families_."

He had glanced through the index for references to the Yagos, but found none about Rhani, Zed, or the Net. He grinned, thinking of what wonderfully nasty things Nakamura would have said about the Net.

"Dana," said Zed's voice above him, "what are you doing?"

Dana snapped the viewer off. "Reading, Zed-ka," he said. Zed reached toward him, and the pulse began to hammer in his throat.

"Let me see."

Dana relinquished the viewer. Zed turned it on, advanced the pages, and chuckled. "Nakamura! Where did you find this?"

"I gave it to him," said Rhani.

"_Having inst.i.tutionalized a pernicious, retrograde system and made of it an economically stable one, Chabad and her sister worlds in Sardonyx Sector defended that system to the Federation diplomats through a series of legal rationalizations_," Zed read. "Nakamura is so pompous when he thinks he's right," he said, and dropped the viewer on Dana's lap. "I'd bet Michel A-Rae loves him. Rhani, don't you have a file on Michel A-Rae?"

"Certainly." Rhani instructed the com-unit. "Here it is."

He read it over her shoulder. "He's young for his position; he's only twenty-eight. An Enchantean, trained in police work on Santiago in Carnelian Sector and on Old Terra. That's interesting. Trained in the drug unit on Nexus.

Hmm. Also trained as a Hype navigator but never finished -- Dana!"

"Yes, Zed-ka."

"Could you have known him?"

Dana frowned, turning the name in his mind. "I don't think so. Is there a picture of him?"

"Come and look," said Zed. Dana rose, leaving the viewer on the rug, and went to stand behind the com-unit chair.

He gazed at the photo on the screen. Dark hair, dark eyes, his skin the chocolate-brown typical of many Enchanteans.... Dana shook his head. "He looks like a lot of people," he said.