But to his astonishment, she said, "Why do I let him what? Be what he is?

How can I prevent it? He is a medic, he knows what he is. If he wanted, he would go to Psi Center and put himself under the care of the telepaths. Why do I let him work for me, command the Net? Because it is safer than any other choice I can think of."

"Safer for Zed," Dana said. "Not for his victims."

She rose and faced him. "Do you think I don't know what he does? I do -- more or less. I have seen the effects from close up. On another world, he would have to find willing victims. Do you think he couldn't? There are worlds where they would not even blink at what he does."

"Not many," Dana said. It irked him that she should presume to tell _him_ about other worlds. _He_ was the Starcaptain.

"We will not fight," she said simply. "But don't try to escape when you are in the Hyper section of the city."

"I won't," he said, standing in his turn. Now their eyes were on a level again.

"When shall you go?" she asked.

He wanted to say to her: Now. Free me. I will do this for you anyway, I will help you find Loras U-Ellen, and then I will leave. Free me. But something held the words back. He could not bear to think that she would refuse him, and he knew she would.

He gave the question some thought. The Auction would disrupt everybody's normal patterns. He could not be sure of finding Tori Lamonica tonight; it was pure luck that he had seen her today. "Tomorrow -- perhaps the day after tomorrow," he said. "Fine. I will have Binkie make you a four-day credit disc. Your limit will be one hundred credits." She paused and then said, "I a.s.sume that will be sufficient?"

"To buy a few drinks at some Hyper bar?" he said. "Oh, yes."

"Good. I don't know how you plan to do this -- but I needn't. What I would really hope is that you can convey a message to Loras U-Ellen for me. I want to meet him."

"That's the message?"

"Yes." Walking to the footstool, she poured herself more punch and returned with the gla.s.s to the bed. She sat down and pulled the printout to her lap. She looked up. "Thank you, Dana," she said. "You've helped me a great deal."

The aircooling system, overloaded, thumped in irritation. Dana started to sit down and then realized that she did not want him there. "You're welcome," he said, with irony, and knew as he reached the door that she had not heard it.

"FEDERATION OFFICIAL CALLS FOR SECTOR REFERENDUM!" the PIN headlines screamed in the morning. "A-RAE CALLS SLAVERY IMMORAL, ASKS FOR FIVE WORLDS TO VOTE." The picture with the newscan was of Michel A-Rae and Rhani Yago at Auction Place.

Rhani, grimly reading the article below the headline, thought that it was clever of A-Rae to make his call for a referendum the day after the Auction. She wondered when she had first started thinking of him as an adversary.

Binkie was going through the rest of the mail. The pile was extra-thick because of the one-day lull. Most of the letters were formal replies to the Yago party invitations. "Is there anything in that stuff I should see?" Rhani said.

"Not yet, Rhani-ka," Binkie answered.

Rhani returned her attention to the PINsheet. "FEDERATION OFFICIAL CALLS FOR SECTOR REFERENDUM.".

Well, he could do that, of course. Any Federation official above a certain rank could suggest a vote on any question involving Federation law. "A- Rae signs the first pet.i.tion." There was another picture, of Michel A-Rae signing a piece of paper. For there actually to be a sector-wide vote, a pet.i.tion would have to be made to the government of each world, signed by one- tenth of its citizens.

Of course, A-Rae was an Enchantean. Rhani tried to recall the last Chabadese census figures, and could not. "Binkie, what was the total from the last planetary census?" she asked. "To the nearest million."

Leaving the pile of mail, he bent over the com-unit. "Five million, Rhani-ka."

"Citizens or total head count?"

"Total head count."

"How many voters?" Tourists and slaves, of course, could neither pet.i.tion nor vote.

"A little under two million," he said.

Rhani rubbed her chin. All A-Rae would need was two hundred thousand valid signatures on the pet.i.tion.

Were there two hundred thousand voters on Chabad who did not support the slave systems? She didn't know. She wondered what the voting population figures on the other four worlds were, and decided that she didn't want to know. She went on reading. "A-RAE RESIGNS AS DRUG CAPTAIN." He had to do that, of course.

His job demanded political neutrality, and he had just abrogated that.

"HENRIETTA MELONES BECOMES ACTING CAPTAIN." She was probably his second-in- command. Eventually the Federation bureaucracy would name someone else to the post, but that could take months.

Rhani wondered how long A-Rae had been planning to make this suggestion.

There was no guarantee at all, of course, that any of what he wanted would come to pa.s.s. He had six weeks to obtain sufficient signatures on the pet.i.tions -- not merely the pet.i.tions on Chabad, but those on Ley, Sabado, Enchanter, and Belle. Even if the question was actually put to a vote, how could A-Rae count on the outcome of a referendum? Maybe he knows something I don't, Rhani thought.

For the first time in a long time, she was beginning to feel outmaneuvered. She simply had no idea what A-Rae might do or say next.

I have to find out who he is -- was, she thought.

Amri's excited voice sounded on the intercom. "Rhani-ka, look outside!

There are people all over the steps!"

"What?" Rising, Rhani went to the window. The morning sun blazed over the streets. Below her the steps of the house seemed covered with people, strangers.

"What are they doing?" she said aloud.

"Rhani-ka, you might want to look at this," Binkie said. He was holding a dirty sheet of paper in one hand.

She scowled. "I know what it is," she said. "What does it say?"

"_You will never be free of us until you have freed the slaves_," read Binkie.

Rhani felt like shouting, What in six h.e.l.ls is that supposed to mean?

"Fools," she said. "Put it in a safe place, Binkie. Officer Tsurada will want it."

She gazed out the window again. "Who are all those people, do you think?"

she said.

Binkie shrugged. "Sightseers," he said. "Curiosity seekers."

"Tourists?"

"Some of them are probably tourists." He hesitated, and then said, "Like the people on the sector worlds who come to see the Net load. They make a holiday of it."

Rhani scowled. She found that picture mildly repugnant. "Well, I don't have to have them on my steps," she said. "Call the Abanat police for me, please, and ask for Officer Tsurada." She walked back to her chair, stabbing the intercom on the way. "Corrios, I would like breakfast now, please."

Before Amri had even brought the breakfast tray, Sachiko Tsurada came on the corn-line. "Good morning, Domna," she said. "I understand you have a small crowd around your house. We have dispatched two units to move the people away."

"Thank you," Rhani said. "I appreciate that. But that was not the princ.i.p.al reason I called you. I received another communication from the Free Folk of Chabad. It says, 'You will never be free of us until the slaves are free.' Something like that."

Tsurada said calmly, "We would like to have it. I will send a messenger to collect it. I trust you are recovered from your experience?"

"I barely noticed the bruises this morning," Rhani said truthfully.

"I am glad." The policewoman cleared her throat. "I a.s.sume you have seen the PINsheet this morning, Domna."

"I have," Rhani said.

"You might be interested to know that Michel A-Rae, now resigned from his post, has dropped out of sight since his interview with the PINsheeters. We are doing our best to find out where he is; we a.s.sume that he is somewhere in the city."

Rhani said, "I'm sure he'll emerge as soon as PIN stops printing his name. He seems to like publicity." But as she said it, she wondered if it was true. The more she thought about him, the more enigmatic he became. "Officer Tsurada, do the Abanat police have any information about A-Rae's past?"

Tsurada said, "We know he had an I.D. exchange."

"Yes," Rhani said, "I know that too. Have you any information which predates that change?"

Tsurada shook her head. "No, Domna. I am sorry." "So am I," Rhani said. "Thank you, Officer." The door slid back. She turned, expecting Amri. But it was Dana. He brought the breakfast tray into the room and set it on the footstool. It warmed her to see him.

"Good morning, Rhani-ka," he said. As he straightened, his hair fell across his forehead. He pushed it back. It had gotten long, she thought, seeing the way it framed his face. She wanted to touch him, to feel his hands on her skin.... She felt drunk. She swallowed.

"Are those people still on the steps?" she said, and was surprised to hear her voice come out as it always did, calm and clear.

Dana went to the window. "Almost gone," he reported. "There are two or three still there, arguing with the police. I think they must be PINsheeters; they have cameras."

Rhani scowled. She glanced at Binkie. "Thank you, Bink. That's all." He went to the door. Rhani licked her lips. "Dana," she said. He turned toward her.

A step sounded in the doorway. Zed walked in.

He was dressed in blue-and-silver. His hair was pulled back in a silver clip. He crossed to Rhani. She held her hand out to him, and he took it. His fingers were warm. "Good morning, Rhani-ka," he said softly. She wanted to ask him ... but she would not.

"Good morning, Zed-ka," she said. She glanced toward Dana; he was standing near the window, face and eyes studiously blank.

"Have you seen the PINsheets this morning?" she said to her brother.

"No. Should I?"

She gestured toward the bed. "Take a look."

Dana said, "Rhani-ka, you have a call on the com-line."

Rhani turned toward the com-unit. The light was blinking. "Answer it,"

she said.

Dana stepped to the unit. His hands moved over the board: the light ceased flashing. Imre Kyneth's image appeared on the screen. Rhani went quickly to Dana's side. "Good morning, Imre," she said. Dana's hip brushed hers. Behind her, from the bed, she heard Zed exclaim.

"Good morning, Rhani," said Imre Kyneth. Aliza stood behind him, vast as a pavilion in her immense white robe. "Have you seen the PINsheets?"

"Yes, Imre, I've seen them."

"What do you think?" said Aliza.

"I haven't decided," Rhani said. "I haven't had my breakfast yet, for one thing." The words came out with more force than she had meant them to have, but the smells rising from the tray behind her were making her stomach ache for food.

Imre said, "I am sorry, Rhani. But I have already had my breakfast interrupted by seven people, including Theo and Ferris. I think the Council needs to meet."

The Chabad Council was made up of two houses: the Lower House, in which sat representatives from the Abanat districts, Gemit, and Sovka, and the Upper House, which consisted of the heads of the Four Families. A place in the Upper House was hereditary. To be a member of the Lower House, you had to be elected by a majority vote of your district: all Chabadese citizens could vote, but to run for the Council, you had to meet certain requirements, including those of residency, previous service to the community -- a vague one, that -- and one having to do with money. Poor people did not attain office on Chabad. But then, there were very few poor people on Chabad, and most of those were transients, not citizens. The Lower House held most of the official power; the Upper one, in theory, simply gave advice and consent. In practice -- since consent could be withheld in more tangible ways than in Council -- few decisions were taken by the Lower House that had not first been approved by the Four Families.

Rhani wondered what the Council would do in this situation. Referendum procedures were fairly fixed. "Why, Imre?" she said. "Because," Imre said, "I think it likely that A-Rae will find sufficient signatures to ratify his pet.i.tions."

"Oh." Rhani rubbed her chin. If that were so...."Do you also think he will win the referendum?" she said. Odd, she reflected, how we speak as if A-Rae were alone in his opposition to slavery. Talk about wishful thinking....

Imre looked grim. "It's possible. It must be made plain what will happen to Chabad if he does."

"Not only to Chabad," said Aliza. "To the sector. The Council has a responsibility to meet. What do you think?"

Rhani's stomach rumbled. "I think I need my breakfast, Aliza," she said.

"I shall eat, and talk to Zed, and call you. Will that be satisfactory?"

Imre smiled. "Of course, my dear," he said. "Meanwhile, you should expect a call from Ferris. He is agitated."

"Thank you, Imre." She did not want to talk with Ferris Dur, not now. She waited until the line had cleared, and then instructed the com-unit to hold all calls. Then she turned, to find Dana by the window and her brother seated on the bed.

Zed said softly, "I would very much like to have one uninterrupted hour alone with Michel A-Rae. Just one hour." His fingers curled. Dana flinched, and Rhani saw it.

"Zed-ka, that would not help matters at all," she said.

"It would relieve my feelings," said Zed. He scowled. "You know, ever since he first spoke to me while I was still on the Net, I've had the feeling that we've met somewhere, not here." He shook his head. "I must be wrong."

Rhani wondered if he could be right. "Do we have any a.s.sociates among the Hype police, Zed-ka?"

He laughed. "I doubt it, Rhani-ka. They have a reputation for being incorruptible and unapproachable." He slapped the PINsheet. "Can A-Rae do this?

I know a Federation official has to be of specific rank to make such a call."

Rhani said, "I'll ask the lawyers. But I'm sure he can." She watched the con-line light blink on, to tell her that someone had called and left a message.

She wondered if it was Ferris. "Imre thinks the pet.i.tions will have enough signatures to ratify a referendum."

"I heard," Zed said. "I hope he's just being cautious." Shoulders slumping, he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"Zed-ka, when did you leave the Clinic last night?" Rhani asked, alarmed.

"After midnight."