“Looks like you had a problem,” the first of these said.

“We all do,” Rafe said. “Did you find out why station Fourth Blue East didn’t respond?”

“Chemstunned,” the man said. “We think the attackers were after the Vatta kid. Must’ve got him, too, because he’s not there. Why were they after you, Rafe?”

“They said, escaping fugitives. Tried to get in my back door, claimed they were pollies. Luckily I keep it locked. So I’m guessing that somehow the kid got away. After all, you’d had us all warned off to shelter him—somebody must’ve taken him in.”

“Not you?”

“Not that I know of,” Rafe said. “Like I said, my back door’s locked except when I’m putting out stuff to recycle or going over to Huntari for lunch—and then I lock it behind me. Nobody’s reported them?”

“Not yet.” The policeman shrugged. “Could be anywhere if the attackers didn’t get him. We’d better find him, in case there’s more bad guys. By the way… you do know that vigilante action is illegal?”

“I was inside the whole time, Fred.”

“Right. Your close friends and neighbors just showed up fully armed and chem-protected by chance…”

“The whole station’s jumpy, Fred. If they choose to help me out when the police have been immobilized… I’d say that’s a good thing.”

“I’m not complaining,” the policeman said. “Just pointing out the law, which is my duty. If the violation of ordinance has ceased, then… that’s all I have to do.”

“Thank you,” Rafe said, in a tone that Stella recognized. Rafe had always had a gift for irony.

“Want us to check out the store?”

“If you wish, but as I said I was locked in back when they came, and you can see they didn’t get through the front. Almost, though.”

“If you’re sure—we do have other things to do. I’ll have a new roster in that substation within the hour—our people there are all headed for hospital—and we’ll add patrols. Forensics have to check out these bods and see if they can identify them. If you see any sign of the Vatta kid, let me know. Oh, and there’s a Vatta family representative around somewhere—was supposed to be headed for the police station, but we don’t know if she got there.”

“She?”

“Yeah, a woman. I’ll flash you the picture. Not a Vatta herself, apparently, but a family retainer. S. M. Constantin. Probably a lawyer. Came in on an ISC courier.”

“I should report her, too?”

“If you see her. Let’s hope these scum didn’t get her.”

“Let’s hope,” Rafe said. “Look—I’ve got to call Maintenance to get a repair crew over here. Talk later?”

“Right.” The policeman turned away.

Rafe shut the inner door, picked up the weapon behind the display, and came back to the shop counter, with another grin for the camera. At the counter he made what seemed to be a perfectly straightforward call to Station Maintenance, requesting repair or replacement of the security grille and inner door of the shop on an urgent priority basis. “And I may be up in my back office—just give me a call before you arrive.” Then with a final glance at the camera, he headed toward the back of the store.

Stella turned down the sound augmentation on her implant and turned to Toby. “We’re about to have company, it looks like. Remember—we’re trespassing, and we have no rights.”

“Yes…” Toby looked pale again. Stella slid her own weapon back into its holster. She heard the footsteps come into the stockroom, pause, and then come up the stairs. The door opened.

Rafe stood there, lips pursed, and shook his head. “Stella, Stella, Stella… do you have to be so dramatic?”

“Me?” It was all she could say; as always, he took her breath away, and memories crowded her mind.

“My dear, if you just wanted to see me again, all you had to do was give me a call… though I suppose with the ansibles down that might have been difficult.” He glanced aside at Toby. “Vatta kid, I suppose? Escaped from custody? You’d better go use the toilet, boy; you look ready to puke on my floor, and I wouldn’t like that.”

Toby gave Stella a desperate look; she nodded and he fled to the toilet cubicle.

“Nice work, Stella,” Rafe said, ignoring the sounds from that direction. “Spurn my invitation, ignore me for years, then break into my shop and bring down gods only know what on my head… I suppose you’d rather I didn’t tell the pollies where you were?”

“When and if the personnel from that station wake up, they’ll explain,” Stella said. “I went there to authorize handling the remains of the others, and they told me about Toby, wanted me to take him. Then it got very quiet, and when I looked out… they were down. I took him out the back—”

“Which you just happened to know about, and how to open the door,” Rafe said, nodding.

“I still have the picklocks,” Stella said.

“And the dataprobe, I’ll bet,” Rafe said, this time with approval. “I always said you were more like me than you wanted to admit.”

“And your door was ajar,” Stella said.

“Luckily for you,” Rafe said. “Since your picklocks would have set off a stunblast. I heard the front bell just as I came back in and didn’t make sure it closed all the way. Foolish of me. Could’ve been fatal if the others had made it here first. I suppose you think I should thank you for that?”

“No,” Stella said. “But I’ll take thanks if you’re offering them.”

Rafe laughed. The same laugh. Warm tingles ran over her. Damn the man. Legend said it was your first love that always held some power over you, but in her case the first love was an unpleasant memory—how could she have fallen for that toad?—and Rafe a constant temptation.

Toby came out of the toilet cubicle looking pale, but less strained. “Sorry,” he muttered.

“Fear does that,” Rafe said. His grin at the boy was entirely comradely, with none of the rakehell glint he gave Stella. “You look half starved, boy; didn’t they feed you over at the station?”

“Couldn’t eat,” Toby muttered. “Now—”

“Now you could eat a whole rationpak in one bite, eh? Stella, it’s up to you—I can feed you here, or we can play lost-and-found and let the police know where you are, then take the lad to Huntari for a good meal.”

“I want to get him to safety—which I suspect means on a ship with no Vatta connections, out into space—as soon as possible. What do you think—are there still assassins out there?”

“Mmm. Could be. Finding a ship’s not going to be easy, either. Most of ’em won’t take anyone with Vatta connections, or anyone from Slotter Key, just in case. You’ll need other ID, if that’s your plan. Where’d you want to go? Back to Slotter Key?”

“No. Lastway, I’m thinking. Nobody’d expect us to go there, and it’s right out on the fringes.”

He tilted his head. “Lastway. But Vatta trades there, don’t they?”

Stella cursed silently. Of course he would know that. Rafe had an information network galaxywide.

“Sometimes,” she said. “No regular schedule that I know of, though I’m not in on all the family business.”

“Your checkered past,” Rafe said, feigning sympathy. Stella wanted to hit him.

“My checkered past,” she said instead. “So… I suppose you could arrange alternative IDs?”

“Easier if the pollies don’t know you’re around,” he said. “They have such… traditional attitudes toward identity.”

“That’s a yes,” Stella said to Toby, who was wide-eyed. At least he wasn’t interrupting.

“We’d better feed the boy something here, then,” Rafe said.