"What do you want in return?" he asked.

Obyx nodded: an acknowledgment of the debt. "Nothing, for now. I understand you have been involved in two different attempts-successful ones-to save Zekeston. Those acts have benefited us also. Though our offer of training remains open, if you decide to continue with your dabblings in juice-hacking. And I am obliged to warn you that if you choose not to take us up on our offer, and if by some chance you are idiotic enough to cause something like this again, we will out you as the culprit without hesitation."

Geoff shrugged. "Vivian made that clear."

"But," said Obyx, "given that we have just saved you from a prison sentence, you still owe us."

Geoff looked suspiciously at hir. "Like what?"

"Hmmm. I'm not sure yet. Something. Not too big, not too small. A goldilocks favor, shall we say? In exchange for our actions today, let us stipulate that Viridians may need a mediumish favor from you sometime. When the time comes, you will provide it without hesitation. Agreed?"

Geoff looked at Obyx a long time without speaking. He could still end up in jail if they chose to out him. But he was not willing to sign a blank check. Better to take the hit now than ransom his future to an uncertain fate. "I guess that depends on what the favor is."

Thondu threw his head back and laughed. Obyx glanced at Thondu, and finally broke into a real smile. "Your momma gave you three stones, I give you that. Very well, we'll agree that some sort of favor is owed, but we'll negotiate further when the time comes." Obyx languidly waved an oversized hand or two. "Now, if you don't mind. Thondu?"

"Of course, Learned."

Thondu escorted Geoff in silence back down across the catwalks and bridgeways, to the edge of the Badlands.

"Thanks," Geoff said.

"Think nothing of it," Thondu said, with a smile that reminded Geoff of Vivian's.

Geoff said, on impulse, heart suddenly pounding against his ribs, "And tell your sister-" Thondu raised eyebrows. "Tell her I said hi," Geoff finished lamely. "Tell her to call me. If she wants. I mean, I wouldn't mind." Thondu gave him an arch little smile. Geoff felt his face grow hot. "She helped me out. I want to thank her. That's all."

Thondu eyed him speculatively. "Well, well. You are a complicated young man, Mr. Agre. I will relay the message." He flicked a hand.

Something about his grin lingered in Geoff's mind. He thought about Thondu and Vivian. He sensed that Thondu and Vivian shared some connection he didn't understand, some bone-deep secret tie. That bothered him a lot. He had to admit, he had already fallen, hard, for Vivian. But Thondu unnerved him, and something about him drew Geoff, too. He'd never thought of himself as attracted to men. What was he getting himself into?

Still, he had gotten out of the Badlands with body and soul intact. That was something.

At the hospital he found his friends having a picnic on Ian's bed in a private room. Amaya and Kam had smuggled breakfast past the orderlies. Ian held up a pastry. Geoff's mouth filled with saliva. The room's antiseptic smell did not put a dent in his appet.i.te. "We saved one for you, doof. But you'd better hurry or I'm going to eat your roll."

"Not on your life, chinpo chinpo." Geoff took the last sticky bun. It was dripping in brown sugar and b.u.t.ter. He bit into it, and felt as if his face would explode from sheer caloric overload.

Amaya leaned across the bed to hand him a coffee. "Well?" She was referring to the bone dancers.

The room was thick with motes and mites, so Geoff merely said, "We're good." He would fill them in on his visit to the Viridians later-back on Ouroboros, perhaps.

Over sweet rolls and hot, bitter coffee they went over the prior night's events. Ian was pallid, and not as loud as usual, but still in good humor. Geoff wondered what painkillers they had him on.

"Hard-Rock News 42 came by earlier. And Upstreamers 180! I'm going to be all over the nine o'clock news. Have you seen my sammy cache? Take a look!"

Geoff exchanged an amused look with Kam and Amaya. They all agreed the contents of Ian's cache were impressive. "You're famous," Geoff said. "No doubt about it."

"The prime minister is coming by! Can you believe it? Get my arm ripped off and everybody thinks I'm hot s.h.i.t. Maybe I can write my memoir and make a million." Kam and Geoff both laughed; Amaya looked mildly disgusted.

Kam replied, "Now if only you could write three sentences in a row, you'd be all set."

"You're just jealous."

"Oh, yeah. I can hardly wait to get my arm ripped off."

"Great! The gimp twins. We'll get adjoining hospital beds," Ian said. But the idea made everyone queasy. To change the subject, Geoff asked, "You said they're going to start growing you, you know, a new arm today?"

"Yeah." Ian looked at his covers, at the place where his arm should be, as if still surprised it was not there. "They said there was so much damage to the old one that it's easier to just start from scratch. In a couple of months, n.o.body will be able to tell the difference. Look." He pulled up his sleeve. The others recoiled-but the wound had already closed up. Pink, baby-smooth skin stretched over the shoulder joint, and just below that was a b.u.mp with five little nubs. Ian wiggled them, and Geoff thought again of the Viridians. Was what they did so different than this?

Amaya's anger at Ian seemed to have cooled; she touched the tiny new fingers growing there, and then they kissed. Ian gave her this wondering look. Geoff knew, even if he didn't; even if Amaya didn't. Ian had just figured out he loved her. Geoff wondered if that meant he'd stop being such a chinpo chinpo. One could hope.

"What?" she demanded. He only shook his head, and laid his head back on his pillow. "Nothing." He laughed. "It's weird, I keep feeling my arm there. I mean, my whole arm. They tell me that's normal. It hurts like h.e.l.l, when they aren't doping me."

"Good thing they're doping you," Amaya said.

"Yeah." He grinned. "I thought I'd get me some neon tattoos, once it's all done, all down the new bicep and forearm, you know, to impress the girls. What do you think?"

Amaya rolled her eyes. "Oh, please."

Ian asked, "Did they get the thing? You know, the feral?"

Geoff shrugged. "I guess so. The old man just made sure we got checked out and then sent us home. We didn't get any more out of him."

Amaya said, "The biker buzz this morning is that they killed it, or whatever they do to stop them, and it's gone now."

Everyone looked at Ian then. His eyes were sunken, shadowed in his pale face. No one said it, but Geoff knew he wasn't the only one thinking it: Ian should be dead. He would have bled out in seconds if the feral sapient hadn't rendered aid-and feral sapients did not render aid. Something strange had happened last night, they were all witness to it, and no one could make sense of it.

After awhile, Ian's parents showed up. Mr. Carmichael had showered and his hair was combed for the first time since Geoff had met him. He wore a nice suit. His pores still smelled, faintly, of stale booze, which he had tried to mask with cologne. Mrs. Carmichael had her hair coiffed and wore a bit too much makeup. They greeted Geoff and the others with a plastic cheeriness. It grossed Geoff out to look at them. They looked like doll versions of themselves.

Geoff, Amaya, and Kam made their good-byes and left. Geoff was glad that he would not be required to partic.i.p.ate with his parents in a meeting with the prime minister. Just, yuck. On a whole lot of levels.

On their way out, the doctor gave them each a quick checkup, and gave Geoff another shot of bug juice. Almost immediately he felt better, and saw in a nearby mirror that the swelling in his face had already gone down.

Outside Yamashiro Memorial, they all looked at one another. All were conscious of the soft mote haze around them.

"Spin the rock?" Kam asked.

Amaya hung back. She looked around, and said softly, "What about the ice?"

"Well?" Kam asked. "Didn't you hear the PM's announcement? We're getting a big shipment in a couple of weeks. Everything is going to be fine."

"But the black marketers know about Ouroboros."

"They were all arrested," Kam said. "And we did what we were supposed to. I notified the bank."

"You notified the bank," Geoff pointed out, "but I didn't sign the paperwork yet. They're not going to send anyone out to survey it till I do. And we didn't do everything everything we were supposed to do-they told us they wanted a statement from us at the precinct." we were supposed to do-they told us they wanted a statement from us at the precinct."

"True, but we also told Moriarty all about what happened last night. If they need more information, they'll know where to reach us."

"He is way up there in the government," Geoff said thoughtfully.

"Exactly. We should just let them deal with it. He'll know who needs to know, and they can tell us if they need anything else from us."

Geoff pondered this. They had notified the authorities. And now that more ice was on its way, he did not want to give up on the Orbital Olympics. Not if he did not have to. "You're right. I think we've done enough."

Amaya sighed. She did not look quite convinced, but Geoff could tell she did not want to give up their ice either.

"Come on," he said. "Let's spin."

Xuan met his contact in the main shuttle hangar out at the docs, at the appointed time, twelve noon. The man in charge of the expedition, Mr. Mills, had his a.s.sistants transfer Xuan's survey tools to their shuttle. Mills wore a knit cap on his head, and a long knit scarf, both in striking shades of blue. He held a bag that contained skeins of brightly colored yarn. It was incongruent with his business-like appearance, but by no means surprising; many s.p.a.cers knitted or crocheted as a hobby. And everyone was bundling up.

"Thanks for coming on such short notice," Mr. Mills said. He seemed bemused at Xuan's appearance. "We were expecting someone else."

"A student? Yes, Dr. Okuyama informed me. I am Professor Xuan, from the university. My specialty is astrogeology." He brushed palms with the other man. "Everyone else was tied up with emergency preparations, and I was ahead of schedule on my own tasks. So I volunteered."

The other man seemed rather dismayed-for what reason, Xuan could not tell; perhaps a concern about wasting Xuan's time? It seemed unlikely. "Of course. Thanks for taking the time."

"Glad to help. Obviously it's to all our benefit to clear as many of these sugar-rock claims as quickly as we can."

"Indeed." Mr. Mills gave him a tight-lipped smile.

"So, you are with Outpost Charter Bank, then?" Xuan asked, as he gathered his field equipment. Though Mr. Mills was impeccably dressed and groomed, he somehow looked as though he might be more comfortable in a Downsider boxing drome than behind a desk. Mr. Mills smiled. "I am in the employ of an attorney, Nathan Glease. He has a private arrangement with the university to a.s.sist them in processing sugar-rock claims."

Glease. Xuan had just heard that name recently, but could not pinpoint where.

"Ah-" Mr. Mills said. "I'm getting word from my crew that we have the all-clear to blast off. Mr.-that is, Dr. No-"

"That's professor. Professor Xuan."

"Your equipment has been stowed. Come right this way."

While Mr. Mills was speaking, Xuan spotted Sean Moriarty, who waved to him. "One moment. I'll be right back." He blithely ignored Mr. Mills's grumbles that they might lose their place in the queue. That is one advantage to being a professor, That is one advantage to being a professor, he thought, he thought, and not a grad student. and not a grad student. Which might explain why Mills preferred the latter. Which might explain why Mills preferred the latter.

"Well, I didn't expect to see you out in this neck of the woods," Moriarty remarked. Xuan knew him from a party or two he had attended with Jane. He had always liked the big, foul-mouthed Downsider. "Off on a rock-hunting trip?"

"Sugar-rock claim. Everyone else with the skills is tied up with Kukuyoshi, and I needed a bit of a break." Xuan looked back at Mr. Mills, who was waiting near his shuttle. "I should go. My contact is worried about losing our place in the queue."

"I'll see to it you don't. I just wanted to say... I'm sorry about what happened to Jane. She was a d.a.m.n fine resource chief. She'll be missed."

"Thanks, Sean. Thanks." He brushed Sean's hand. "And you, good luck with all this-" Xuan waved a vague hand at the chaos around them.

"I'll need it," Moriarty said, with a pained grimace.

23.

They set Xuan up in the pilot's cabin. "High-cla.s.s accommodations," Xuan remarked in surprise. "Thank you."

The pilot was no older than Hugh-not yet twenty. They make adults so young these days! They make adults so young these days! Xuan thought. A wry smile twisted his lips. Xuan thought. A wry smile twisted his lips.

The pilot seemed oddly nervous. "We aren't really set up for pa.s.sengers. And it's a short trip, so I won't be needing it. We should reach our destination in about three hours. Please strap in. Use the workstation, if you like. There's plenty of entertainment options loaded in our system. Just follow the links. Snacks and drinks are in the cooler here." He showed Xuan where it was and how to unlock it. "The head is here." He pushed the b.u.t.ton, and the null-gee toilet manifold and hoses folded out of the wall. He pushed the b.u.t.ton again, and the head folded back in.

"Very good," Xuan said. "Thanks."

Generous of him, to allow Xuan the use of his cabin. Xuan buckled into the pa.s.senger couch and linked his waveface to the ship's systems. The shuttle trembled and he was pressed into his couch. Liftoff. Then acceleration eased, and weightlessness came.

Xuan called Jane and left her a message, then tried to work for a while, but could not concentrate, and decided to check his equipment. He unstrapped himself, lofted over to the door, and tried to open it. The lever did not move when he cranked it. It took him a full second to realize that the door had been locked.

He clenched his fist to pound on it, to call out for a.s.sistance-it must be an error-but froze in midaction. Glease. Mr. Mills was in the employ of a Mr. Glease. Xuan remembered now where he had heard the name. Jane had told it to him last night, as they had been looking at the graffiti drawn on the kids' tent.

Glease and Mills. Mobsters. Hired by Ogilvie & Sons. The people who had scrawled graffiti on his family's tent in the park last night.

Xuan reeled back from the door-mouth spitless, vision greying, heart beating hard. You idiot! You idiot! he thought. he thought. Jane warned you, but did you listen? Jane warned you, but did you listen?

But last night (had it really been only last night?), some hypothetical thugs leaving amateurish doodles on a tent had not grabbed Xuan's attention with the same intensity that the feral sapient lodged in their life-support systems had. Nor the imminent destruction of Kukuyoshi. Nor, for that matter, the impending death by suffocation of two hundred thousand people, including himself and nearly all those he held dear.

He swam over to the vicinity of the workstation, pulled himself down into the chair, strapped in, and forced himself to consider the problem calmly. Do these people know Jane is my wife? Could they have engineered this to use me against her? Do these people know Jane is my wife? Could they have engineered this to use me against her?

He doubted it. In the first place, now that she had been fired, she was no threat to them. Second, his decision to take this sugar-rock call had been his alone, and spontaneous-a need to escape the furtive stares of his colleagues and the silent, oppressive presence of the "Stroider"-cams. All the cl.u.s.ter's surveyors and astrogeologists had gotten sucked into this rush of sugar-rock claims. No. This was simple happenstance. Bad luck. Xuan's number had come up.

In which case, how much danger was he in? What did they hope to accomplish? And how could he thwart them?

He thought back to Jane's words the night before, as well as discussions they had had in the past about her experiences with the mob on Vesta. If Ogilvie & Sons were behind the original warehouse disaster-so she had told him, and he had no reason to doubt it-they must be trying with this trip to forestall discovery of any major sugar-rock claims. Mills's presence on this trip suggested they had serious concerns about this particular claim.

This claim had best turn out to be a bust, he thought, he thought, no matter what. no matter what.

As to how much danger he was in, as long as they a.s.sumed he was just some researcher from the university, and as long as the sugar-rock claim was a bust, they would have no reason to harm him.

I had better brush up on my acting skills, Xuan thought. And there were some serious technical challenges to overcome. This was almost certainly not the first time they had taken a geologist out to check a claim, so they would know the basic routine. Whatever he did to muck around with the ice content measurements for this rock, it had better be subtle. Xuan thought. And there were some serious technical challenges to overcome. This was almost certainly not the first time they had taken a geologist out to check a claim, so they would know the basic routine. Whatever he did to muck around with the ice content measurements for this rock, it had better be subtle.

He strapped himself back in, and spent the next hour or so visualizing the process, considering how to obscure his intent from any watchers.

The pilot announced over the intercom that deceleration would begin shortly. He thanked him, and then asked to speak to Mr. Mills.

Crackling; a pause. Then: "Mills here."

"Now that we are approaching our target, I'd like to set up and calibrate my equipment. Would it be possible for me to visit the hold?"

Another pause. "You can check your equipment once we touch down. Wait in your cabin. My a.s.sistants will escort you."

Xuan scowled. So much for mucking with the equipment in transit. He would have to come up with something that he could rig quickly once at their destination, in full view of Mills & Co. "All right. I can set up once we arrive. But perhaps you could forward me any information you have on this asteroid. Maps or the like. It will help me prepare, and will save you time."