But it did to the rest; the other schrift murmured their agreement.

Hrotisft went on: 'That is as far as I can grind the thought. We must find out who David's parents are, but I do not know how.'

Threstast spoke up for the first time. 'We must think and polish the thought. If this relationship is important to humans, they must keep records, keh?'

' Reasonable. '

'Then, we must get access to these records. And if such exist...'

'Yes.' Hrotisft hissed. 'They must be in Elwere.'

'Very well.' Threstast gestured an acknowledgment. 'But how do we find them?'

'I have a plan,' Hrotisft said. It stood and walked to the storage bin in the corner of the room, pulling out bars of gold and silver and small sacks of gems. 'We have much work to do.'

I didn't argue. Not then.

I'd never known who my parents were, and I wanted to, every bit as much as I wanted to slip a knife in between Amos van Ingstrand's ribs.

The doubts came later.

"You don't understand, Eschteef," I said, as we walked toward the outsiders' entrance to Elwere. "If my father finds me, he'll have me killed. The Elweries don't like to have b.a.s.t.a.r.ds running around; they consider it shameful."

'Enough of your complaining, David. There are, at present, more than seven million members of the schtann in the Thousand Worlds. And the Elwereans-please stop calling them Elweries-know that we do not take the killing of one of our own lightly. The problem is getting you to the security station without alerting the watchmen. That is all.'

The sun hung low in the sky; merchants were folding up shop and preparing to go home for the night.

a.s.suming that we could get into the outsiders' areas at all, we wouldn't be able to spend much time doing whatever the h.e.l.l it was that Eschteef intended that we do there before we would have to get back. Even a schrift can't expect to take on t'Tant.

'Were I you, little David, I would be more concerned about Amos van Ingstrand's people's spotting you.'

I wasn't terribly worried about that, not at the moment: in a baker's smock, with my hair lightened a shade or two and my skin darkened more than that, it was unlikely that anyone who didn't know me well would recognize me.

Besides, there's one advantage to walking with a schrift: people tend to keep their eyes on the hulking creature, not on its shorter companion. It occurred to me that this could be used as a nice lifting routine.

Maybe I could get Eschteef to growl threateningly, while I worked the crowd. That would be fun.

I'd need to get together some money. I was a thief, not an a.s.sa.s.sin.

But there was no urgency about dealing with Amos; that could wait. For years, if necessary. I'd want to be in on it, and I wouldn't be able to face doing that until I could close my eyes and go to sleep without hearing Please, David, make it stop hurting...

'It is very strange,' Eschteef said, a note of disbelief in its voice. 'All this preoccupation with sources of genetic material. Ahh, let us stop here.'

We paused in front of a poster.

REWARD REWARD REWARD.

The Lower City Protective Society offers 100,000 pesos for information leading to the apprehension of a thief known as DAVID (last name, if any unknown)...

... it began, and went on into a description of me and my offenses: my lifting of a valuable piece of jewelry belonging to someone unnamed; my burglarizing and torching of Elren Mac Cormier's shop...

My offenses. This from Amos van Ingstrand... My hands started to ball themselves into fists, but years of training took over, and I acted like a young baker's apprentice would, one who had seen the poster several dozen times, but still dreamed of claiming the reward: I read the poster up and down, studied the sketch carefully, then walked on with Eschteef."Eschteef?"

'Yes, David ?'

"How sure are you that we can do this?"

'It should be relatively simple,' it started.

snorted. I'd heard that before.

'No, David. It should be. You know how the Elwereans identify themselves before reentering the city; they have no fear of lowers trying to enter.'

We were almost past the last row of stalls in the Lower City markets. I turned to Eschteef. "But how do we get close enough to the Elweries' entrance?"

Eschteef hissed. 'Trust your own skills, David.' Eschteef hefted the bag that it carried. 'And ours.'

The narrow road twisting up toward Elwere was almost deserted, occupied only by a few merchants, bringing sly grins and the remains of their unsold merchandise back down toward Lower City. Selling to the Elweries is always rewarding.

We got a few curious glances, but not many; n.o.body wanted to stop and inquire what a schrift and a human were doing going up toward Elwere this late.

'Here,' Eschteef said, handing me the bag. 'Behind that bush.'

I ducked behind the bush and stripped down to my bare skin, then opened the bag. First I took out the small plastic containing the damp washcloths, and quickly rubbed both makeup and dirt from my body.

And then I dressed: the one-piece undergarment, followed quickly by a new segren tunic and a black teak dominoe that fitted my face perfectly. I slipped on and belted the white silk trousers and hung a silver-mesh pouch from the belt, then pulled on the calf-high leather boots.

Then the accessories. First, a finely worked ring for each finger. They fit perfectly; I worked my fingers rapidly, enjoying the flashing of jewels in the sunlight.

'Enough vanity. Finish dressing.'

Then, a sheathed silver smallsword, with a well-worn bone hilt. Inside Elwere, it was a dueling sword, used with a slip-on stopguard for minor duels, as-is for second-or third-blood duels. But outside of Elwere, it was just for show; an Elwerie's-Elwerean's-real defenses were in the harness.

I took my harness out of the bag, slipped the many-lensed band over my head, settled the leather yoke on my shoulders, then examined myself in my hand mirror.

Not bad at all: I looked just like an Elwerean.

Granted, it was all an illusion, but it was a good one.

The lenses on the headband didn't contain cameras, and while they were wired to a small steel box at the back of the harness, the wires and the rotating nozzles on the harness itself were just an effect. Under Hrotisft's supervision, the others had been able to create an imitation of an Elwerie's apparel, but actually making the workings of twin powerguns and the circuitry necessary to control such were beyond them.'I will meet you up there, David. It is best that we not arrive together. '

"I understand." And the last part of the disguise. ... The mental part of it was never more crucial than it was now, and never more difficult. Of course, I'd seen a few Elweries in Lower City; yes, I'd studied their customs and practices so that I could learn how to imitate them.

But that wasn't enough; I'd have to live it.

I stood up straight, my shoulders back, my neck held stiffly upright, then examined myself in the mirror.

That was right, but it wasn't enough. Even with the dominoe obscuring my features, I still looked scared, like a lower pretending to be an Elwerean.

I had to get the inner disguise just right; I forced myself to feel confident, to know that I was just... Leif Ortega, that was a good Elwerean name. I was Leif Ortega, returning home after a long afternoon spent between fresh sheets in a Joy Street house, that following my morning's exercise of shopping in the Lower City markets.

But it still didn't look right. Ahh, if I was coming home from the markets, where were my purchases?

Drawing the smallsword, I cut a ragged piece of cloth out of the shoulderbag, wrapped it around a stone, then stuffed it in my pouch.

Better. And if I was back from an afternoon at Joy Street, I should be a bit more tired; I let my shoulders sag a trifle, then rubbed my fingertips over some imaginary scratches on my ribs.

The mirror bore me out: I was ready. I walked up toward the entrance, and through the vaulting archway.

I stood on the broad floor, forcing myself to breathe a sigh of relief, as though pleased to be home after a hard day of shopping and s.e.x.

The room was large and high-ceilinged, the walls decorated with gold-and-pearl-inlaid friezes, the ceiling minutely carved. The floor was thousands of square meters of white marble, no doubt imported from Earth itself.

Next to the far wall, three Elweries had finished making their purchases from the six schrift jewelers.

Tucking their bundles into their pouches, they walked over to the security station. One by one, they unbuckled their harnesses and dropped them in a bin as they walked past the first guard, then past the guard sitting at the security panel, and lined up in front of the niche in the far wall.

One at a time, each Elwerie pressed a thumb and an eye into the appropriate recess.

And, as each was scanned, the light above the niche flashed green. The guard pressed a b.u.t.ton on his panel; a door slid down over the niche, only to slide up in a moment, revealing it to be now empty.

The six schrift jewelers were finishing their packing. I swaggered over to the table, pretending to examine the racks of rings and pendants.

"Khind ssir," Eschteef hissed. "Whould you honor uss by examining our wares?"

'Your accent is horrible,' I said. 'Who taught you Basic, Hrotisft?' I smiled.

'Don't be more of a fool than is absolutely necessary, young idiot. The guard may know some Schrift,'

Hrotisft said, its words belying the gentle tone of its voice.'Walk away now,' Eschteef said.

I moved slowly toward the guard station, Eschteef and Hrotisft following, brandishing a double handful of pendants, as though haranguing me to buy their wares.

As I started to unbuckle my harness, the guard stood, loosening the safety strap from his holstered powergun.

I forced myself to return his overly broad smile.

"Are these schrift bothering you, young senhor?" he asked.

"Not at all. Were they," I said with a sneer, "I could handle them myself, no?"

"Yessir." His face whitened a touch as I let my hand fall to the hilt of my smallsword. If I drew it, it was a no-win proposition for him. His best bet would be to hope that I only wanted to frighten or wound him. If an Elwerie wanted him dead, he would be dead.

"We'll let it pa.s.s, just this once." Ignoring the schrift behind me, I walked into the niche and pressed my eye against the lens, slipping my thumb into the notch.

A light flashed behind the lens; coolness washed my thumb, followed by a light sting.

The lights around the niche flashed red.

I spun around. Eschteef had pulled one guard away from the panel; Hrotisft, with a strength belying its advanced years, was holding the other over its head with one hand, the other hand clamped tightly over the guard's holster. In a moment, Hrotisft was joined by two of the other schrift, while the remaining two helped Eschteef to spread-eagle the panel guard against the wall.

Eschteef's hand was at his throat; the guard could barely gasp.

"We will be gentle with you, human, provided you help us."

The guard's eyes bulged as he gasped for breath. "I... can't let you in. The panel only allows me to let someone in if the green light flashes."

I stood in front of him. "We don't want you to let me in. That machine says I'm not registered as an Elwerie, correct?"

He didn't answer. Eschteef tightened its fingers around the guard's throat for a moment, then loosened its grip to allow the guard to gasp for breath.

"Y-yes. It says you're an impostor."

"What you will do," Eschteef said, "is use the machine to a.n.a.lyze who the human is. You will find out who its father is from the blood type-that is possible, no?"

The guard tried to shake his head. "No. It can't be done."

"Try," I said. "Try real hard. You have access to all the ident records, no?"

"Yes. I have to-"

"Better run some sort of comparison. Or else."The guard nodded.

Eschteef and Sthtasfth frog-marched the guard over to his chair and seated him ungently.

Sthtasfth produced a thin wire and wound it loosely around the guard's neck. "If there is trouble," it said, "I can pull this through your neck in less time than it will take for your heart to beat for the last time. Are we agreed that there will be no alarms?"

The guard nodded, and began working the panel, his hands moving slowly. "You'd better hope that Central doesn't get curious as to why-"

"No," I said, "you had better hope."

"Fine, fine. Just let me do it, okay?" He glanced at the readout and tapped twitching fingers against the keyboard. "Blood type double Ay-that's good; both parents are Ays, Ar Aitch pos, Dee En at seven part per mil, Oh Eff neg, whites type..."

My heart pounded. Maybe I'd never know who my mother was, but at least this would tell me about the father that abandoned me, kept a reward out for my life. Was it my fault that I was a b.a.s.t.a.r.d? I hadn't chosen to be one. What kind of person could hold that against me?

In a moment, I'd know.

Granted, the schtann's notion that this would solve anything was ridiculous, but you couldn't blame them: the notion of it being normal for someone to know who his parents are was so strange to them that it was understandable they'd attribute what they thought of as my disability to my being, well, normal for a schrift.

The panel flashed red; the guard's eyes grew wide. "No-it wasn't me. The entry's flagged." He paled as his head turned toward me. "You're David Curdova."

Sirens began wailing; the door to the outside slammed down with a deafening thump.

Hrotisft's hand covered Sthtasfth's. 'Do not kill the human. I sense that there is no harm for the child here.'