I had thought of that. Yes.

  *Best not wait any longer than you have to. You’ve been fidgety as a nervous flea the past few days. No one would take much notice if you went wandering around the lake.*

  “Haven’t before. Ummm. Might be a new problem. Ajin’s got plans for me; they might include notions of keeping me pure. So to speak.*

  *And he knows you’re virgin.*

  Huh?

  *He had the surgeon examine you after he tucked that

  grenade in your back.*

  *Creepy bastard. Eckh. If I bit him, I’d probably poison myself. *

  *No doubt. He’s quite pleased at how you keep yourself apart from the other men here. One of the reasons you’ve had so much freedom this time. You don’t have to worry about him for a while yet.*

  *That’s comforting. All right. I can probably get loose and stay loose for a while. What then?*

  *There’s a sourberry vine by a stand of jemara trees on the south side of the lake, near where it comes to a point. You brought in a spray of its flowers two days ago.*

  *Yes. I know the one you mean. Flowers didn’t last. Isn’t a house plant. Inside the grove you’ll find a small glade, clovermoss growing thick there. By the time you get there it should be mostly sunny, very pleasant. Quite private. Parrak will be waiting for you. Parrak? He tended you before.*

  *Oh. Him. Good enough. He’ll do the cutting?*

  *Yes. You can trust him—he trained as a doctor before he came to me.*

  *Nice to know. Ah, what a load off, getting that thing out of me. But it means I go after the Ajin tonight, (shudder passing along her body) You never said—have you any idea how that trap works?*

  *None, I’m afraid. Shadow, be careful. I’ve gotten quite fond of you and I’d hate to see you hurt.*

  *That’s two of us. Umm. If everything falls apart and Taggert and me, we have to run, swat anything that comes after us, will you?*

  *With all I’ve got. You’d better start waking now, Shadow.*

  *Yes. See you later, Old Po’.*

  Later ….

  She came out the door, sauntered casually past the squatting guard and made her way to the water’s edge; she climbed over a flow of rocks, circled another tumble of detritus, stopped as she heard voices. Manjestau and the Ajin. She dropped onto a boulder and sat listening.

  “… had to cut off the input; those vibrators scrambled everything so badly the receptors were heating up, going to burn out if I left them in circuit much longer. Luck knows what they’re getting up to in here.”

  “I need them, Manjau, can’t rub them wrong until the bargain’s made. Look, it’s only till tomorrow, then they’ll be gone. Once they’re settled in for the night, put guards on the fliers and on the door to the guesthouse. Only one way in or out, and no windows; that should keep them honest.”

  “Talto’s in from Rhul, he says the Authority has put a squad of enforcers in the Rumjat, says the pollen scares them into staying half drunk and they’re starting to mess with the women, but you’d better talk with him yourself, it might be worth taking a chance ….” Manjestau’s voice began to fade as the two men walked off, heading back to the main building.

  Shadith kicked at the boulder and grinned at the bright blue water smooth and glassy as a mirror on this warm quiet afternoon. Clouds were beginning to gather overhead, but as yet they blocked very little of the hot glare of the sun. What a giggle. The only place in this whole damn base where I can talk without the Ajin’s voyeurs watching me is the room of the man who’s come to kill or kidnap him. Well, Old Po’. hope you’re enjoying that little irony as much as I am. She slid off the rock and began rambling toward southpoint.

  Perrak spread a white cloth on the clovermoss and began setting out his instruments. “Get that tunic off and stretch out on the moss.” He bathed his hands in a liquid from a rubbery gourd, spread some on her back and felt about with quick light touches of his fingertips. “Going to give you a local,” he said. “The thing’s not in deep—I can feel the lump under the skin. You must sleep on your stomach these days.”

  “Umm.”

  “This won’t hurt.” She felt a small sting, then for the first time in days lost her awareness of the lump in her back. She almost went to sleep as he worked, tension she hadn’t been aware of draining from her. Death coming out of her body, control of her life coming into her own hands once again. Never again, she thought, never again will I let someone do something like this to me. Never. Never. Nev … Perrak interrupted the flow of thought. “It’s out. I’m going to put some stitches in your back. Don’t worry about having them out later. There’s a plant in the forest that provides a tough fiber I’ve used before in things like this. It’ll gradually be absorbed into the body without marking it.” A low chuckle. “I’m sure you remember the salve I used on you before. I’ve got a tin of it for you. Have your furry friend put more on each morning.” He picked up a rectangle of flesh-colored plastic and pressed it down on her back. “Don’t take a shower for a day or two. This is going to hurt some when the local wears off; the salve will help a little, but it won’t kill all the pain, you’ll just have to live with it until you heal. If you can avoid it, don’t go jumping about much the next few days—don’t want to tear the stitches loose. The wound’s in a nice place, though. Not too many pulls there unless you try weight-lifting. Where’s your tunic? Ah. Here. Put it on. Appreciate it if you amble about more before you go in, give me time to get this stuff packed and hid and take myself somewhere else. Mind?”

  She smoothed the runic down, laughed as he helped her to her feet. “Say hello to Old Po’. It’s a grand day for a walk, isn’t it? Did I thank you, no, well I do. Believe me, I do.”

  He looked at the bloody grenade resting in a shallow dish. “Like to make him eat it.”

  “A lovely thought. See you.” She waved and went into the shadow under the trees, feeling light-headed and rubber-kneed and altogether delighted with the day.

  Around midnight.

  Shadith woke from a heavy sleep, sat up, winced as the movement pulled at the stitches Perrak had put in her back. She moved her shoulders. No big problem. She knew the cut was there, but it wouldn’t slow her down if she had to run or fight. She frowned at Linfyar, limply asleep beside her. Better not get separated. If we have to run, I want no hostages left behind. She shook him awake, whispered in his hometongue, “Get up and get dressed, Linfy, we’re going visiting.”

  She glanced at the night-forest image on the screen, sniffed with contempt and slid off the bed; she was taking a chance that whoever was supposed to be watching them had gotten so bored he didn’t bother anymore. Wasn’t much of a chance; except under the Ajin’s eye, discipline in the base was a joke. Besides, all the time she’d been here, she’d done nothing in these rooms but eat and sleep, read and fool about with her harp. She dressed quickly in the black sweater, vest and trousers Aleytys had found for her, checked the pockets in the vest. Lockpicks, a couple of hollowed-out coins that fit together and made a rapid-play probe for electronic locks, a long plastic blade with an edge that could cut a thought in half, a harpstring with wooden grips at each end. She found the tin of salve that Perrak had given her, slipped it in the pocket with the garrote, dropped to her knees and pulled her backpack from under the bed. Its stiffening ribs were thin but strong metal tubes about as big around as her little finger. One was nothing but a tube with one end finely threaded; two others came apart into compressed-air cylinders that screwed onto the tube to make a simple but efficient airgun; the fourth held a dozen small darts, crystallized sova that dissolved into the target’s flesh and put him to sleep. It worked slowly, took ten to fifteen minutes to put the target under, but it left no trace in the blood and the slow action meant that the victims of the darts usually didn’t connect the tiny sting they made with what happened later. She slid the tubes into the vest pockets constructed to hold them, got to her feet and looked around. Unless her luck turned really sour, this was the last time she’d see this room. She regretted having to leave the harp behind, but a harp was a lot easier to replace than a friend or her life.

  The guard at the entrance to the main building was taking a leak against the wall and staring dreamily at nothing. They slipped into the dark, overcast night without disturbing him and worked their way silently among the rockfalls to the isolated guesthouse.

  The guard at the guesthouse was more alert; if the runners got out and made mischief, it was his skin and he knew it. He walked back and forth in front of the door with a dedication that made her grimace. She moved her head close to Linfyar’s ear, breathed, “Wait here; should be about time for a guard change.” She pushed on his shoulder, went down with him. “Keep flat till I get back. Might be a while.” She assembled the airgun, slipped in one of the darts, then crawled carefully forward until she had a clear view of the guard. With the patience of a cat, she watched him pace back and forth, back and forth, dull steady trudging. Got the brains of a slug, tell him to do it, he does it till you tell him go away. Ah for a nice imaginative man, someone with intelligence enough to get bored, someone convinced of the stupidity of all this. Time dragged by on feet as leaden as the guard’s. Back and forth, back and forth.

  Footsteps, quick and crisp, coming along the path. The sentry lifted his rifle, waited.

  “‘S me, Bigo, Jambi the goat, got to crawl out of a warm bed and warmer arms to watch a rock grow.”

  Bigo grunted and went stumping off.

  Jambi shifted restlessly about. After a minute he shrugged, yawned, started swinging his arms.

  The airgun made the faintest chuff. A second later Jambi winced, slapped at his neck; she was close enough to hear him curse the lake midges. She smiled and settled herself to wait some more.

  A soft brushing sound. Shadith lifted her head.

  The guard lay crumpled in a heap in front of the door. She scowled at him. First you bang me on the head, fool, now you haven’t the sense to get out of my way. She eased another dart into the gun, went back for Linfyar.

  The corridor inside the guesthouse was dimly lit and deathly quiet. She stopped at the first door, reached in and felt at the sleeper inside. Harmon. Next door. Taggert. Awake and alert. She tapped the announcer.

  A growly voice thick with sleep answered her. “Who is it and what you want?”

  She grinned into the shadows. “An old acquaintance come to talk.”

  The door slid open. Taggert bowed her in. “You show up in the strangest places, young Shadow.” He looked past her, shut the door behind Linfyar. “You and your friend.”

  “Don’t we all. Got some things to tell you.”

  “Thought you might.” He settled in one of the chairs, waved at the divan.

  “Grey and Ticutt are alive. I’ve seen them.”

  “Ah.”

  “It’s tricky. They’re hanging in some kind of bubble universe, no way to get to them unless we get sucked in too.” She smiled at the look on his face. “Don’t need to go that far. Ajin can get them back. He told me. Just needs persuading.” She grimaced. “By a man. I could take the skin off him a strip at a time and he wouldn’t say boo.”

  “Any idea what the trap is?”

  “He wouldn’t tell me, the slippery fool. Here’s a giggle, Tag—I’m his talisman, his lucky charm. He rubs my head and expects the world to drop in his lap.”

  “From what I hear, it is.”

  “He’s riding high, all right. Tag, can you move tonight? Look, I’m pretty sure he’s going to buy from you; he was after me to pick his supplier, but I wouldn’t then. I can let him push me into doing it in the morning if you want, give you a way back in. So you don’t have to jump tonight, but, Tag, I have to tell you, you’ll not get a better chance.”

  He got to his feet, went into the bedroom, came out with a slim metal case. “Take a look.” He touched his thumb to the lock, turned back the top. “Figured I might have to ask some hard questions.”

  She touched the woven metal cap, wiped her hand down her side. “A psychprobe. They’re really getting the size down. I suppose it operates from local power. Hunh. I thought Wei-Chu and Co kept those close to home.”

  “One of the advantages of being a runner, Shadow. You get access to all sorts of interesting things.” He smiled. “And no need to explain them to anyone. Salesman’s samples.”

  “Devious. Hmmm. One of the Chus used something like that on Aleytys once. A lot bigger, though. She blew it to blue smoke and cinders.”

  “Ajin’s not Aleytys.”

  “Not even close. Tonight then?”

  “No use sitting around watching the walls erode.” He set a tablet and a stylus on the table. “Give me some idea how this place is set up.”

  She pulled a chair to the table, bent over the tablet. “Landing pad here. They stick the fliers in under the trees. Camouflaged sheds there and there. Manjestau, number two boy, he’s put guards on the sheds, but I know about where they’ll be—we shouldn’t have any trouble with them. Here. Here. And here. Won’t be changing again until dawn. Here’s where we are. Guard here. Got him with the airgun and a sova dart. He’s out for at least four hours. I snugged him against the wall with his rifle on his knees. He’ll be more concerned with covering his ass when he wakes than he will be with what he’s supposed to be guarding. Main building here, you were there this morning, no, I suppose it was yesterday morning. Guard here. Have to take him out. If he’s not already curled up sleeping. Here’s the command center. Got some kreopine and detonators in those samples of yours? The more confusion we can leave behind us … right, I’m teaching a silvercoat to smell blood. That’s the barracks, but we don’t have to worry about that, it’s shut off from the offices, has a separate entrance. There are the technicians’ quarters. The brothel. Down the other end, here, that’s where the mountain starts; so many wormholes in it, it’d look like goat cheese if you cut it open. I don’t know where half of them lead; I expect the Ajin doesn’t either. This is where he put me. Around this twist and up a little higher, that’s where he has his cozy little hole. No guards anywhere around there. He likes his privacy. During the day he brings in one of his women to clean the place and cook for him … umm.” She tore the page off, pushed it along the table to him, began on the second. “Kitchen here, study here. I’m the only one he’s ever taken in there, not even Manjestau. He tells me his plans, strokes my head like I’m some fuckin dog—hah! Forget that; I get a little hostile when I think about how … Anyway, he likes to boast of trapping two Wolff Hunters, I don’t know how many times he’s told me he’d do the same to anyone who crossed him, and how he’s like brothers with a Vryhh master designer who built all this for him and comes when he waggles a finger. Where was I? Right. This is the room where his woman sleeps if he keeps her overnight. Locks her in when he leaves her, I expect. Did it to me when I stayed there. Sitting room. And that’s his bedroom. Nobody but him goes in there. Ever. That’s where this gets sticky. The portal to the pocket universe has got to be in there. Nowhere else it could be. One way or another, I’ve got in just about everywhere. No sign of any funny business. Umm. I forgot. Here’s where he goes when he wants to see Grey and Ticutt or show them off as sorry warnings to anyone who might want to jump him. Ordinary sort of lock on the door. I got in without any fuss.”

  “Risky.”

  She put the stylus down, rubbed at the back of her neck. “Not really, Tag. Technicians were used to me snooping about, Ajin thought I was just being female, so that was covered. A chance I might get sucked in, but I figured it wasn’t likely. Seems to me either he keeps the portal’s trigger on him, say it’s small enough, or like I said, it’s set up in his bedroom.” She leaned over and tapped the sketch in front of him. “The machinery that works the thing, that’s here.” She straightened. “I thought about lifting kreopine or something like it from the arsenal … um … forgot about that, that’s around on the other side of the lake. Anyway, I thought about blowing up that bit of engineering, but there was too much chance that would strand Grey and Ticutt where they were. Which doesn’t look like a very good place to spend eternity. Or whatever.” She tapped her fingers on the table. “Our problem tonight is getting at the Ajin. I don’t feel happy about going into that bedroom.” She shivered, scratched at the back of her hand, the side of her neck. “Makes my skin itch.”

  She sat frowning at the spidery sketches with the scrawled words dotted over them; after a minute he smoothed a big hand over his polished head, pushed his chair back and went into the bedroom. She heard him moving about in there, heard some scrapes and squeals, a thump or two, then he pushed past the drape carrying two heavy cases. He set them on the table, thumbed the locks open and lifted the lids. “Come take a look.”

  What a relief it was just to be herself without the complications of sex and rigid gender roles. With a rush of pleasure and gratitude, she went to stand beside him, looking down at the neatly racked weapons in the cases, rifles of several sorts, handguns, a dozen dark small grenades. Understanding finally just how cramping the Ajin’s mindset had been. Except for a few times when he was particularly obtuse and offensive she’d gotten so used to being annoyed it was like having a low-grade fever. As with a fever, she made allowances and lived at a lower rate, forgetting what being healthy felt like. Until Taggert blew in and blew away her blinders, reminding her what it was to be treated as a reasoning and responsible adult.

  Taggert unclipped a fat-butted laser pistol. “Waste of time, all this. Didn’t even make me open the cases.” He twisted the gun apart. A shell. With fiber packing. He stripped the packing away, set the items on the table beside the case. “Tanglers. Shock grenades. Sleep gas.” He popped one of the rifles, cleaned off two thick rods about the length of his forearm. “Extensible claws. Hunch to bring them paid off. I like that bedroom about as much as you.” He lifted one of the rods, tapped the end. It expanded in half a breath until it was stretching across the room. Another tap and curved claws spread from the end. He clicked them against the door, twisted the end. The pole collapsed as rapidly as it’d expanded. “What do you think? Stand in the doorway, don’t set foot in that room, toss in one of the sleep-gas canisters, pull the covers off him with a claw, make sure of him with a tangler, use a couple of the claws to haul him out of there. Doesn’t matter if we damage him a bit—Pajunggs won’t mind. Me either, as long as he can still talk.” His pale blue eyes narrowed to slits, his long, off-center nose twitched, he grinned at her.