Rue was at a loss as to what to say. She just nodded. "We've taken the liberty," Griffin said, "of tailoring you a uniform as befits your station." He gestured at a side table by the windows. Through the leaded glass, she saw folded black cloth.

"Oh. Well… thank you." She went to the doorway; he retreated and she went to the table.

"If you and your companions are willing, we would be pleased to give a banquet in your honor at second shift-over," he said. "In the Great Hall of the monastery, of course."

"Banquet?" Her head was spinning. "Sure." She unfolded part of the uniform. It was an absolute black, with silver epaulets and piping. Her heart flipped as she saw on the breast something she'd seen before only in movies and sims: the silver infinity symbol inside laurel leafs that signified the rank of cycler captain.

Rue dropped the uniform back on the table. A roaring filled her head and the world faded in and out for a moment.

"Are you all right?" Griffin was at her side, one hand just touching her elbow.

"No— I mean yes, I, I'll be all right." She turned away from him, so that he wouldn't see the tears starting in her eyes.

"I'd hoped to give you a tour of Lux this afternoon," said the abbot. "But I see you've not fully recovered from your flight."

"No, it's all right." She wiped her eyes and turned to smile at him. "Abbot Griffin, I would love a tour. Maybe, if you gave me an hour to freshen up? Please, I wouldn't miss it for the world."

He smiled graciously and bowed again. "Of course. One of the sisters will be waiting outside the door if you require anything. An hour then?"

She nodded. After he left Rue turned back to stare at the folded uniform. It seemed to draw light to itself, as if it were the magnetic focus of the room. Her hand hovered over the smooth cloth for long seconds before she summoned the courage to turn a fold aside and gaze again on the infinity symbol. That symbol was no doubt chiseled into the stones above this monastery's gate. It was the symbol of her civilization.

TWO HOURS LATER, Rue was high above the city in an aircar, staring down at the domed towers of Lux. Many of the buildings had atria or open shafts penetrating them; from above, the shafts made patterns of dots across the rooftops. The Abbot had explained that since Oculus was tidally locked, Colossus never moved from its position near the zenith. The builders of the city could put skylights and light-pipes in permanent place, confident that Colossus would throw its amber light deep into the heart of any building without pause.

For all its medieval appearance, Lux was built of plastics and ceramics, all based on minerals and chemicals mined from the ocean. The ocean was global, for Oculus was a Europan world, covered in continents of ice with a twenty-kilometer deep ocean beneath them. Only here at the point closest to Colossus was the water exposed, in a circular ocean two thousand kilometers across. Lux clung to the edge of this ocean, but most of Oculus's cities were dug deep under the ice, at its interface with the unfathomable depths of water.

"See down there," said the abbot. Rue followed his pointing finger to the base of the ice cliffs. There, dark archways opened into the white walls. As she watched, a large ship exited one archway. It cast wings of water up and behind it from small feet of some kind that it ran upon.

"Hydrofoils," said the abbot. Rue smiled politely, though she didn't understand. Now she saw there were many ships on the water, from very small sailing vessels to huge square things loaded with shipping containers.

"I hope you are with us long enough to go sailing," said the abbot. "The bergs are beautiful and home to many birds."

She nodded again. The view was spectacular, but by now Rue was so overwhelmed she was barely registering it. She was still trying to get over the experience of walking the halls of the monastery wearing a cycler captain's uniform.

Everyone who had seen her dressed this way had stopped. The men had bowed; the women curtsied. There was no irony to it. They were sincere in their respect. Rue kept wanting to say, "hang on, I'm not what you think I am" — but she was what they thought she was. The implications had just never registered with her until now.

Before they had entered cold sleep for the trip down here, Crisler had summoned everyone to a meeting and said, "Here are the things we can't talk about while we're at Colossus." He had spoken of the necessity of not revealing details about the nature of Jentry's Envy. "We have to claim ignorance of its origins and course for now," he had said with grim authority. At the time Rue had nodded with the others, but she knew that Crisler's priorities only made sense to those of her passengers who were from High Space. He couldn't be trusted anyway: Mike's discovery of the hidden photos proved that.

She felt she had managed to convince Crisler that she would adhere to his wishes. As soon as he awoke, though, he would realize that this was her world and she could and would say whatever she wanted to these people. There was no reason for her to keep the secrets of the Envy for his sake and no way he could enforce his wishes here. She was tempted to rub his nose in that fact.

Earlier, when the abbot had asked if she had a preference as to who to revive next, Rue had been strongly tempted to say, "Leave Crisler and his men in cold sleep." It would have been so easy. But she didn't know whether she had the authority to do that, now that they were all under the care of the monks. And also, the level of cold sleep they were under was light; it wouldn't be healthy to leave them in that state for much longer.

She no longer needed Crisler and he must know it. That was probably why he had come along personally on this expedition, but what could he do about it?

"Ma'am?" She blinked in surprise. The abbot had asked her something.

"I said, would you like to return? Your people should be awake now and you'll want to orient them before the banquet."

"Of course, Abbot. Forgive my inattention." I said that the way Grandma would have wanted, she thought to herself.

"You have much on your mind, no doubt," said the abbot neutrally. He steered the car back toward the massive monastery tower.

Rue sat back in the deep upholstery, no longer seeing the cliffs with their wheeling birds and overhanging towers. She was thinking that she could completely isolate herself from Crisler while they were here and there was nothing he could do about it. If she was truly a cycler captain, it was time for her to adopt the responsibilities to her own people that went with the title— far away from the grasping hands of the Rights Economy.

RUE AND MAX stared down at the Great Hall from behind an ornate carved screen. The place was packed with extremely rich looking people. "Oh, shit," said Rue. "What are we going to do?"

"Don't look at me, this was your idea," he said. Max was still annoyed that she'd had him decanted. The taste for adventure he'd had on Treya seemed entirely gone. Even the exotic wonders of Lux seemed to hold no fascination for him.

The monks had dressed him up in a gray cycler crew uniform and so far Max hadn't been able to muss up this suit. She knew he would before the evening was out, but at least he'd get through the reception line with his reputation intact. And he looked great just now.

She told him that and he shrugged. "I clean up well. Shall we do it?"

They walked down a long curving hallway that finally opened up on a gallery above the cavernous space of the hall. A sweeping limestone staircase dominated this end of the chamber and they were forced to walk down this, arm in arm, while everyone in the place watched. This was the idea, apparently; everybody else had done it.