Rebecca gnawed on a thumbnail for a while, then said, "Since the coup, they've raised the bar on citizenship requirements. You know, isolationists." She rolled her eyes. "Okay. Here's what you do. You've got to apply for citizenship and to do that you've got to put in your quota of eco-work. It's usually a minimum of planting twenty trees and seeing them through at least two seasons. There's always plenty of eco to do in Treya. Then, you've got to pay off your debt. That means getting a job, which will be hard to do while you're doing eco-work. So, you get something part-time to convince the bureaucrats that you're sincere in paying them back and spend the rest of your time on the eco. Make sense?" Rue nodded. "You'll also need bribe money from time to time," added Rebecca.

The prospect was daunting. "Um, Rebecca… could you help me with that stuff? Just a wee bit?"

The intern laughed. "Sure. Look, I've got to go, but I'll pick up a reader and find pointers to some immigration brochures and maybe stop by later?"

"Yeah!"

Rebecca rose and walked to the door. "Why?" Rue asked impulsively.

"What?"

"Why are you helping me?"

Rebecca made a moue and shrugged. "I'm from the stations too. It's hard here for us outsiders. We have to stick together."

Rue nodded and lay back. She soon slept again.

When she awoke it was to find the newshound sitting in the corner of her room, reading. He wasn't wearing his monocle today. Out of the light of the blinding sun, she could see he wasn't much older than she was, though it was hard to tell since his skin was so dark. He was dressed perfectly, though, in a burgundy suit that must have cost a small fortune. Even his hair was perfect.

He looked up, saw she was awake and said, "Hello again. I'm Blair Genereaux, we met at the elevator yesterday?" His voice was smooth and pleasant, like an announcer's.

Rue nodded guardedly.

He cleared his throat. "We seem to have gotten off on the wrong foot somehow," he said. "You see, I didn't know… that you didn't know… about the cycler. I guess it was an awful shock for you."

"Yeah." Despite her natural caution, Rue felt grateful that he should be sensitive enough to notice. Or comment. Not at all like Jentry, this one. "Thanks."

"You'd become something of a cause celebre before you docked," he continued. "I thought it would be fun if I could get an interview, so I came down. The other hounds were all after the smell of money. I wanted to know how it had all affected you. That's why I was still there when you came down."

Rue's caution reasserted itself. Nice story. "But why? I'm just a girl from the stations."

"Well." For the first time he looked uncomfortable. "The fact is, Rue, I'm new at this. I don't have a byline or good representation on the Web. I've been breaking in slowly by doing pieces that… well, frankly, that nobody else bothers with."

Rue laughed.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"I'm relieved, that's all." He stared at her in obvious puzzlement.

"Sorry," said Rue. "Look, the last thing I want is publicity. You scared the crap out of me when you popped up begging for an interview yesterday. You were the first sign other than messages on the screen that this fortune thing was real. And then… I'd just had the fortune taken away before I even got to it. So why should you be interested? I know I'm a nobody without it."

Now it was his turn to grin. "Fame doesn't work that way, Ms. Cassels. There's probably a million people out there today wondering how they would feel if they were in your shoes. Yesterday they were all daydreaming they were you. Now they have a chance to contemplate the twists of fate that fortune brings us, using you as the exemplar. I think they'll want to hear the story and I think both you and I could make some money off it."

Money. There was that…

"I'm not going to say yes," she said at last. "But I'm not saying no either. Can I think about it?"

"Sure. You've got about a day before this becomes stale news." He rose and came over to the bed, extending his hand. She shook it, surprised by the warmth of his skin.

"You're like ice," he said, concerned. "They told me outside that you're doing fine…"

"I am. Thank you, B— Mr. Genereaux. I'll seriously consider your offer."

"Good. I'll call you again tonight."

He left and Rue snuggled back into the covers, thinking about the interview, then thinking about Blair Genereaux's pleasant face and the warmth of his hand.

"ARE YOU PACKED?" These were the first words cousin Max spoke as he strode into her room after dinner that evening. Rue was sitting in a chair by her bed, reading the brochures Rebecca had brought and waiting for Mr. Blair Genereaux to call.

"Packed? Why?"

Max looked like the bouncer at Allemagne's bar had shaken him down for contraband. He was carrying a large plastic-wrapped bundle under his arm. His hair was matted as if he hadn't combed it since he'd slept and the heel of his left shoe flapped open as he paced to the closet.

"It's checkout time, couz," he said. "They say you're fine."

Indeed, the doctor had told her that at lunch time, but Rue had put off thinking about it. "I don't have anywhere to go," she said. "Except back to the ship."

He smiled brightly. "You can stay with me."

"What about the hospital fees?"

"Paid." He shrugged. "It was the least I could do and never let it be said that I didn't do the least I could do. Ha. This yours?" He held out her bag.

"Give me that."

"Put this on," he said, tossing her the package he'd entered with. Rue puzzled over it; it appeared to be clothing, but all wrapped up and folded for some reason.

"It comes like that," he said. "From the store."

"Oh." She fumbled for an opening; there was none. After a moment Max came over and unceremoniously tore the plastic open.

"Oh," she said, "How…" Thoughtful? He seemed to have bought her some spacesuit underwear.

"It's a cool suit," he said. "Top of the line. You'll want to have it on when we go out; it's still about twenty-six out there and muggy."

"Oh." She went to the bathroom to change and there she anxiously examined her own face in the mirror. She looked every bit as worried as she felt. She wanted to tell Max to go away, but she'd never had the power to do that with Jentry and truth be told, she didn't know what control Max might have over her here on Treya. Helplessness was a familiar sensation; she let it guide her hands as she dressed, then emerged to find Max stuffing the last of her things into a bag.

"Ready?" He grinned at her.

She was frightened. Was he abducting her? What did he want?

From somewhere Rue summoned the memory of herself shooting Jentry with the reaction pistol. She was not helpless. She wouldn't let herself be.

Still… she had no where else to go, unless she phoned Rebecca, but she didn't want to impose on her either…

She sighed. "Okay, Max."

"Great! These are yours," he said, handing her a small card and a ring phone. The card had a hologram of her on it and proclaimed her to be a probationary citizen. The phone consisted of two rings, a big one worn on the wrist and a small one, the speaker, which went over her middle finger. "Keep the card close to your skin for the next couple of days; it has to learn your scent. I've put a hundred dites in it for you." Without another word he left the room. She hurried after him.

"Thank you, Max. But how did you get the card?" It was very bright here in the hall so she put on her sunglasses. They still felt weird, like having a tiny clamp around her temples.

"Your aunt Leda had it made up," he said as they entered an elevator packed with serious-looking people. "I stole it from her last night."