Stella clipped the shipboard ID tag to her lapel.

The gangway into the Rose had a thin strip of industrial-grade carpet, with a bright yellow reflective strip on either side and the warning STAY ON CARPET. Once inside, the ship’s decor carried out the Roselines theme with soft roses, creams, and touches of red and green. They were met by a steward who checked them off a list, and led them to their cabins down a passage carpeted in rose with a burgundy geometric border. The cabins connected to form a small suite, complete with a small common room. Stella, recently off the courier with its cramped, bare-bones passenger space, was delighted with them.

“You’re welcome to visit the main passenger lounge and the dining salon,” the steward said. “You’ll find a layout in hardcopy in the desk, or onscreen—just follow the menu directions. Or you can wait here until your duffel arrives. However, when the undock warning sounds, all passengers must return to their cabins, and the sector seals will come down.”

“Thank you,” Stella said.

When they were alone, she and Rafe examined the safety features of the cabins and that end of the corridor. Their ship ID tags each opened one of the three cabins; these could be rekeyed, the desk brochure explained, for members of one party traveling together.

“Or by members of a party that has the right members,” Rafe said.

Each cabin had its own vacuum seals, and each connecting suite had an additional seal in the passage. Clearly Roselines took safety seriously. So did Rafe. When their luggage arrived a few minutes later, Rafe insisted that they unpack everything and put it away in the cabins. “If we have an emergency, we want our suits out. Toby, did you have suit drill aboard ship?”

“Yes, of course. I told you already.”

“Good. We’ll have them here, whether the captain orders them or not.”

The voyage to Placer B and then Golwaugh was uneventful except that Toby’s appetite returned and he seemed to hit a growth spurt as well. Toby seemed fascinated by Rafe’s chameleon kit and begged to try it; Rafe taught him the rudiments of disguise. The shipsuits that fit Toby at Allway were almost too small by the time they got to Golwaugh. Stella and Toby stayed aboard at these intermediate stops—each of only a couple days’ duration—but Rafe bought Toby some larger clothes at Golwaugh. After Golwaugh they were the only passengers on the way to Lastway. The news was not reassuring; only 20 percent of the ansible platforms were up, so that most systems had a several-week communications lag. Both passenger and cargo shipments were down; investment market reports were all out of date, but expected to worsen. Golwaugh was one of the lucky systems with a functioning ansible, so Stella was able to contact ISC HQ and discover that her report had made it there safely.

In Lastway’s system, the ship’s crew reported that the Lastway ansibles were also functioning. Stella checked the list of ships docked at Lastway… a K. Vatta, with the ship Gary Tobai, was listed. That would be Ky, of course. The local news channel, piped to passengers’ quarters, mentioned sporadic gang attacks on travelers and warned any tourists to keep alert and stay out of danger zones.

Through the purser, Stella booked onstation quarters for the three of them at a moderately priced hostelry. She could only hope that whoever was after Vattas didn’t have a face-recognition program that included hers and Toby’s. Rafe, she knew, would take care of himself. The purser arranged transport of their duffel, and the three of them made it to the hotel without incident.

The next job was contacting Ky. Stella considered, and rejected, the onstation communications lines. Too dangerous. She and Rafe and Toby, posing as tourists, climbed on the tram and headed for Gary Tobai.

Baritom had withdrawn its dockside security personnel after what it continued to call “this unfortunate incident,” but Martin felt that the automated security he had put in place was adequate. Ky was unwilling to hire replacements even if other firms were willing to take a contract with her. How could she trust them? She had ordered some basic torso protection in standard sizes for those of her crew who were outside the ship for any reason, though only Martin and Jim carried firearms. Small deposits kept a hold on the items she most wanted from MilMart, but she had still not figured out what to do next. The three apparent tourists who tripped the perimeter alarms were standing in a row, with Martin and Beeah looming over them, when Ky made it down to the cargo entrance.

“Hello, Ky,” said the curvaceous but faded blonde in the taupe suit. “I’m your cousin Stella. Remember me?”

Ky could not believe it. Stella? Here? With a teenaged boy and a man? Surely that wasn’t her son… She struggled to remember how old Stella’s child might be. Stella did look older and plainer than she remembered. That Stella had a man, she could believe: he was medium tall, handsome as a vid star in spite of his graying hair, and very aware of it.

“What are you doing here?” came out of her mouth before she could stop it, and the tone was almost accusatory.

“Running away,” Stella said. “Or running to you, depending on how you look at it. How much do you know?”

“Vatta’s been attacked; I don’t know how bad it is.”

“Not a very big ship, is it?” the man commented, in a tone that made her angry.

“Big enough,” Ky said shortly.

“Have there been any attacks on you?” Stella asked.

“A few,” Ky said. “Unsuccessful, obviously.”

“Oh, my heavens,” the man said, rolling his eyes. “She’s a total innocent. What are you thinking, Stella? She can’t possibly—”

“I don’t know what you think is innocent,” Ky said. “I’ve killed—” She had to stop and count… appalling that she didn’t know immediately. “—four men.”

“We heard about one at Sabine,” the man said. “You did it yourself, really?” He looked completely unimpressed.

“Yes,” Ky said through gritted teeth. “And it was two, there.”

“My, aren’t we the rough girl,” the man said. He turned again to Stella. “So she can kill. But can she—”

“Stop it,” Stella said. To Ky’s surprise, the man stopped, arching a brow at Stella, who turned to Ky and went on. “Ky, this is Rafe. We’re partners for the present. He’s under partner bond. He has many talents.”

“That’s nice,” Ky said, thinking that many talents didn’t equate to much manners.

“And this is Toby Vatta. He survived the blowout on Allray Two—have you heard about that?—and he’s also a partner for the present.”

Ky looked at Toby and had an immediate flashback to her own apprentice voyage. She’d thought having Captain Furman on her tail was bad, but she hadn’t been through what he had. “Welcome aboard, Toby,” she said. “I’m sorry for your loss.” She looked back at Stella. “I assume Rafe has a last name?”

“Yes. Which we will give you when we come aboard, not standing here on a cold dockside. Ky, we had trouble on Allray. Serious trouble.”

“I can imagine. We’ve had some, too. Come on aboard then.” She stepped aside and let them pass; Stella gave her a look she could not interpret, and Rafe a look she could interpret all too well. If he thought she was like Stella, he would soon learn different, and he could keep those eyes to himself. She nodded at Martin when they had cleared the locks. “Come on, Martin. If anyone comes looking for cargo, let Alene handle it. It’s close of trade anyway.”

“Yes, Captain.”

The others had stopped in the rec area; Ky nodded to a table. “Have a seat. Let’s find out what’s up.”

“It’s a long story,” Stella said.

“It’s a long shift,” Ky said. “Go ahead.”

“You know about the attacks back home, on Slotter Key?”

“Some, not much. They hit corporate headquarters and the family compound both, one report said. I—I expect there were injuries. And for some reason the government is down on us.”