She laughed at his expression; it was so childishly roguish.

He looked young and healthy and handsome as ever, she thought. There was an energy in him, as though his life held a momentum greater than that of others; the poor kid from the barrios of Speyr come up from nothing and heading higher still, brimming with ideas and schemes and general mischief.

“What sort of business? Will it take long?” she asked, twirling her parasol to watch the pattern of light and shade it cast on his open, eager face.

He bit his lips, put one hand over the side of the little shell-boat and dabbled his fingers in the water. “It’s just a little lifting operation,” he said, glancing at her. “Actually, I might be able to expedite it, now you lot are here; bring it forward a bit, if you’ll help.”

She frowned at the water where his hand trailed. “A lifting operation?” she said. “You gone into the marine salvage business?” She sounded confused.

He laughed. “No, not that sort of lifting,” he said, and sounded almost embarrassed.

She nodded. “Oh… that sort of lifting.”

“Yes,” he said.

“What is it you’re going for?”

He slid along the circular seat to her side, making the shell-boat list. He put his chin on her shoulder and spoke softly into her ear, which was revealed under the mass of swept-back black hair. He breathed her perfume in, closing his eyes, then sensed her moving away from him. He sighed and opened his eyes. She was angled away from him, staring at him over the top of her dark glasses, her huge eyes wide.

“Say that again,” she said. He looked beyond where she sat, then mouthed the words without actually speaking them.

She mouthed the words back, and he watched her lips.

The Crownstar Addendum? her lips said. Her eyes became wider still. He nodded. Sharrow pointed at his chest and mouthed: You Are Fucking Crazy.

He shrugged and sat back.

She dropped the parasol to the seat and set the dark glasses on the table, then put one hand under her armpit and the other over her eyes. “This must be the silly season for Antiquities,” she breathed.

“Don’t you admire my ambition?” Miz laughed.

She looked at him. “I thought we were going for something difficult. I thought the… article you’re talking about was supposed to be unstealable.”

“Whisper when you say that last word,” he said quietly, looking around the other shell-boats. “It’s only applied to one thing round here.”

“What are you going to do with it once you’ve got it?”

“Well, it started when I was contacted by an anonymous buyer,” Miz said breezily. “But I think I’ll ransom it back to the relevant authorities. That might be safer.”

“Safer!” she laughed. He looked hurt. “Why?” she asked. “Why are you doing this? I thought you were doing all right here?”

“I am,” he said, looking insulted. He waved around. “I’m rich; I don’t need to do it.”

“So don’t!” she said through her teeth.

“It’s too late to back out now,” he told her. “I have a tame official who’s going to help; he’s terribly excited about it all.”

“Oh, good grief,” she groaned.

“It’s so easy,” he said, leaning close to her again. “I thought it was crazy too, when it was first suggested, but the more I looked into it, and found out the truth of where and how it’s stored, the easier I realised it was going to be. It’d be crazy not to do it.”

“In other words,” she said. “You got bored.”

“Na,” he said, waving with one hand and looking flattered.

“So,” she said. “How do you propose to set about this probably suicidal task?”

“Hey, kid,” he said, beaming a smile at her and putting his arms wide. “Am I the Tech King, or not?”

“You are, after all, the Tech King, Miz, of course,” she said, a dubious expression on her face. “But-”

“Look; it’s all set up,” he dropped his voice again and sat closer. “The technical part of it’s over, really; it’s just putting the final human bits of it together that I’ve been working on.” He looked at her carefully, to see how he was doing. “Look,” he said, putting on his most winning smile, “it’ll be fine. I’m serious; there won’t even be a fuss, dammit. They won’t even know the thing’s actually gone until I tell them; this is a totally beautiful plan I have here and you’ll thank me later for letting you become a part of what is not so much a theft but more of a work of art in itself, really. Honestly. And like I say, I can even bring it forward now you guys are here so it’ll all be over by the time we have to start out-running the Huhsz. If you’ll help. Will you help?”

She looked deeply suspicious. “If you can convince me this plan’s viable and we won’t all spend the rest of our lives on the hand-pumps in some prison-hulk eating plankton, yes.”

“Ah,” Miz laughed, slapping her knee. “No danger of that.”

“No?”

“Na.” He shook his head adamantly. “They’d kill us three and turn you over to the Huhsz for the reward.”

“Oh, thanks.”

He looked instantly stricken with contrition. “So sorry. That wasn’t very funny, was it?”

“Am I laughing?” She put her dark glasses back on and sipped her drink.

Miz pursed his lips. “This stuff about the Huhsz,” he said. “There no other way out?”

“I stay ahead of them for a year, or get them their Lazy Gun.” She shrugged. “That’s it.”

“They can’t be bought off?”

“Certainly they can; by giving them the Gun.”

“But not with, like, money?”

“No, Miz. It’s a matter of dogma; faith.”

“Yeah,” he said. “So?” He looked genuinely puzzled.

“The answer is no,” Sharrow said patiently. “They can’t be bought off.”

“Anyway,” Miz said, and tapped her on the shoulder with one finger, a knowing look on his face. “The Tech King has thought up a way of slowing the bad guys down.” He winked at her.

“Oh yes?”

“Ever been to the K’lel desert?”

She shook her head.

“Or Aïs city?” Miz asked, grinning.

“Too arid for my taste,” Sharrow smiled, rubbing her fingers up and down the stem of her glass. “I’m a moist kind of girl really, deep down.”

Miz crossed his eyes for a moment. “Please,” he said, sighing theatrically. He cleared his throat. “I’m serious.” He leaned close again. “These Passports are the World Court extra-specials, aren’t they? The unloseable ones with this weird sort of warp-type hole thingy in them?”

She frowned. “You’re losing me with all this technical jargon, Tech King.”

He slapped her thigh gently. “You know what I mean; the nano-event holes left over after the AIT Accident. Each Passport’ll incorporate one of them, won’t it?”

“Yes,” she said.

“And they’ll be coming out of Yada to be initiated at the Huhsz World Shrine?”

“I imagine so, but…”

He sat back, tapping the side of his head. “I have a Fiendish Plan, my Leader,” he said.

She shook her head, sighing. “And I thought you might have gotten sensible in your old age.”

“Perish the thought.” He grimaced. “And anyway; you’re the one wants to go looking for a book that hasn’t been heard of for a millennium without even the benefit of a paying contract in the vague hope it’ll somehow lead to a Lazy Gun.”

“Yes,” she said, dropping her voice and putting her face close to his. “But the book is only lost, not the most heavily guarded piece of jewellery on the fucking planet.”

Miz waved this distinction away with one hand as though it was a bothersome fly. “Did you get your contract set up with the Sea House guys?”

“Spoke to them this morning. Scale Two exes.”

“Huh. They handling it themselves?”

She shook her head. “Agency called The Keep.”

“The Keep?” Miz frowned. “Never heard of them.”

“Me neither; must be new. Seem to know what they’re talking about.”

“What is this damn book, anyway?” Miz asked, sounding annoyed. “The U.P.; what’s it about?”