Johanna woke in her cabin at Woodcarver's. What a terrible dream! That she had been so cut up, unable to move, and then thinking Vendacious was a traitor. She tried to shrug herself to a sitting position, but nothing moved. Darn sheets are all wrapped around me. She lay quiet for a second, still massively disoriented by the dream. "Woodcarver?" she tried to say, but only a little moan came out. Some member moved gently around the firepit. The room was only dimly lit, and something was wrong with it. Johanna wasn't lying in her usual place. There was a moment of puzzled lassitude as she tried to make sense of the orientation of the dark walls. Funny. The ceiling was awfully low. Everything smelled like raw meat. The side of her face hurt, and she tasted blood on her lips. She wasn't at Woodcarver's and that terrible dream was — Three Tinish heads drifted in silhouette nearby. One came closer, and in the dim light she recognized the pattern of white and black on its face. Vendacious.

"Good," he said, "You are awake."

"Where am I?" the words came out slurred and weak. The terror was back.

"The abandoned cotter's hut at the east end of the camp. I've taken it over. As a security den, you know." His Samnorsk was quiet and fluent, spoken in one of the generic voices of Dataset. One of his jaws carried a dagger, the blade a glint in the dimness.

Johanna twisted in the tied cloaks and whispered screams. Something was wrong with her; it was like shouting on empty breath.

One of Vendacious paced the hut's upper level. Daylight splashed across its muzzle as it peered out first one and then another of the narrow slits cut in the timbers. "Ah, it's good that you don't pretend. I could see that you somehow guessed about my second career. My hobby. But screaming — even loud — won't help either. We have only a brief time to chat. I'm sure the Queen will come visiting soon… and I will kill you just before she arrives. So sad. Your hidden wounds were tragically severe…"

Johanna wasn't sure of all he said. Her vision blurred every time she moved her head. Even now she couldn't remember the details of what had happened back in the hospital compound. Somehow Vendacious was a traitor, but how… memories wriggled past the pain. "You did murder Scriber, didn't you? Why?" Her voice came louder than before, and she choked on blood dribbling back down her throat.

Soft, human, laughter came from all around her. "He learned the truth about me. Ironic that such an incompetent would be the only one to see through me… Or do you mean a larger why?" The three nearby muzzles moved closer still, and the blade in one's jaw patted the side of Johanna's cheek. "Poor Two-Legs, I'm not sure you could ever understand. Some of it, the will to power maybe. I've read what Dataset has to say about human motivation, the 'freudian' stuff. We Tines are much more complicated. I am almost entirely male, did you know that? A dangerous thing to be, all one sex. Madness lurks. Yet it was my decision. I was tired of being an indifferently good inventor, of living in Woodcarver's shadow. So many of us are her get, and she dominates most all of us. She was quite happy about my going into Security, you know. She doesn't quite have the combination of members for it. She thought that all male but one would make me controllably devious."

His sentry member made another round of the window slits. Again there was a human chuckle. "I've been planning a long time. It's not just Woodcarver I'm up against. The power-side of her soul is scattered all over the arctic coast; Flenser had almost a century headstart on me; Steel is new, but he has the empire Flenser built. I made myself indispensable to all of them: I'm Woodcarver's chief of security… and Steel's most valued spy. Played aright, I will end up with Dataset and all the others will be dead."

His blade tapped her face again. "Do you think you can help me?" Eyes peered close into her terror. "I doubt it very much. If my proper plan had succeeded, you would be neatly dead now." A sigh breathed around the room. "But that failed, and I'm stuck with carving you up myself. And yet it may all turn out for the best. Dataset is a torrent of information about most things, but it scarcely acknowledges the existence of torture. In some ways, your race seems so fragile, so easily killable. You die before your minds can be dismembered. Yet I know you can feel pain and terror; the trick is to apply force without quite killing."

The three nearby members snuggled into more comfortable positions, like a human settling down for serious talk. "And there are some questions you may be able to answer, things I couldn't really ask before. Steel is very confident, you know, and it's not just because he has me with Woodcarver. That pack has some other advantage. Could he have his own Dataset?"

Vendacious paused. Johanna didn't answer, her silence a combination of terror and stubbornness. This was the monster that killed Scriber.

The muzzle with the knife slid between the blankets and Johanna's skin, and pain shot up Johanna's arm. She screamed. "Ah, Dataset said a human could be hurt there. No need to answer that one, Johanna. Do you know what I think is Steel's secret? I think one of your family survived — most likely your little brother, considering what you've told us about the massacre."

Jefri? Alive? For an instant she forgot the pain, almost forgot the fear. "How…?"

Vendacious gave a Tinish shrug. "You never saw him dead. You can be sure Steel wanted a live Two-Legs, and after reading about cold sleep in Dataset, I doubt he could have revived any of the others. And he's got something up there. He's been eager for information from Dataset, but he's never demanded I steal the device for him."

Johanna closed her eyes, denying the traitor pack's existence. Jefri lives! Memories rose before her: Jefri's playful joy, his childish tears, his trusting courage aboard the refugee ship… things she had thought forever lost to her. For a moment they seemed more real than the slashing violence of the last few minutes. But what could Jefri do to help the Flenserists? The other datasets had surely burned. There's something more here, something that Vendacious still is missing.

Vendacious grabbed her chin, and gave her head a little shake. "Open your eyes; I've learned to read them, and I want to see… Hmm, I don't know if you believe me or not. No matter. If we have time, I will learn just what he might have done for Steel. There are other, sharper questions. Dataset is clearly the key to all. In less than half a year, I and Woodcarver and Pilgrim have learned an enormous amount about your race and civilization. I daresay we know your people better than you do — sometimes I think we know them even better than we know our own world. When all the violence is over, the winner will be the pack that still controls Dataset. I intend to be that pack. And I've often wondered if there are other passwords, or programs I can run that would actually watch for my safety -"

The babysitter code.

The watching heads bobbed a grin, "Aha, so there is such a thing! Perhaps this morning's bad luck is all for the best. I might never have learned — " his voice broke into dischords. Two of Vendacious jumped up to join the one already at the window slits. Softly by her ear, the voice continued, "It's the Pilgrim, still far away, but coming toward us… I don't know. You would be much better safely dead. One deep wound, all out of sight." The knife slide further down. Johanna arched futilely back from the point. Then the blade withdrew, the point poised gently against her skin. "Let's hear what Pilgrim has to say. No point in killing you this instant if he doesn't insist on seeing you." He pushed a cloth into her mouth and tied it tight.

There was a moment of silence, maybe the crunch of paws in the brush right around the cabin. Then she heard a pack warble loud from beyond the timbered walls. Johanna doubted that she would ever learn to recognize packs by their voices, but… her mind stumbled through the sounds, trying to decode the Tinish chords that were words piled on top of one another: