"Yes."

"We've convinced 'Ravna' that her precious Jefri is in imminent danger. Amdijefri has told her about all the Woodcarver attacks and how we fear an overwhelming assault."

"And that may really happen."

"Yes. Woodcarver really is planning an attack, and she has her own source of 'magical' help. We have something much better." He tapped the papers; the advice had been coming down since early winter. He remembered when Amdijefri had brought in the first pages, pages of numerical tables, of directions and diagrams, all drawn in neat but childish style. Steel and the Fragment had spent days trying to understand. Some of the references were obvious. The Visitor's recipes required silver and gold in quantities that would otherwise finance a war. But what was this "liquid silver"? Tyrathect had recognized it; the Master had used such a thing in his labs in the Republic. Eventually they acquired the amount specified. But many of the ingredients were given only as methods for creating them. Steel remembered the Fragment musing over those, scheming against nature as if it were just another foe. The recipes of mystics were full of "horn of squid" and "frozen moonlight". The directions from Ravna were sometimes even stranger. There were directions within directions, long detours spent in testing common materials to decide which really fit the greater plan. Building, testing, building. It was like the Master's own method but without the dead ends.

Some of it made sense early on. They would have the explosives and guns that Woodcarver thought were her secret weapons. But so much was still unintelligible — and it never got easier.

Steel and the Fragment worked through the afternoon, planning how to set up the latest tests, deciding where to search for the new ingredients that Ravna demanded.

Tyrathect leaned back, hissing a wondering sigh. "Stage built upon stage. And soon we'll have our own radios. Old Woodcarver won't have a chance… You are right, Steel. With this you can rule the world. Imagine knowing instantly what is happening in the Republic's Capital and being able to coordinate armies around that knowledge. The Movement will be the Mind of God." That was an old slogan, and now it could be true. "I salute you, Steel. You have a grasp worthy of the Movement." Was there the Teacher's contempt in his smile? "Radio and guns can give us the world. But clearly these are crumbs from the Visitors' table. When do they arrive?"

"Between one hundred and one hundred twenty days from now; Ravna has revised her estimate again. Apparently even the Two-Legs have problems flying between the stars."

"So we have that long to enjoy the Movement's triumph. And then we are nothing, less than savages. It might have been safer to forego the gifts, and persuade the Visitors that there is nothing here worth rescuing."

Steel looked out through the window slits that cut horizontally between timbers. He could see part of the starship compound, and the castle foundations, and beyond that the islands of the fjord country. He was suddenly more confident, more at peace, than he'd been in a long time. It felt right to reveal his dream. "You really don't see it, do you Tyrathect? I wonder if the whole Master would understand, or whether I have exceeded him, too. In the beginning, we had no choice. The Starship was automatically sending some sort of signal to Ravna. We could have destroyed it; maybe Ravna would have lost interest… And maybe not, in which case we would be taken like a fish gilled from a stream. Perhaps I took the greater risk, but if I win, the prize will be far more than you imagine." The Fragment was watching him, heads cocked. "I've studied these humans, Jefri and — through my spies — the one down at Woodcarvers. Their race may be older than ours, and the tricks they've learned make them seem all-powerful. But the race is flawed. As singletons, they work with handicaps we can scarcely imagine. If I can use those weaknesses…

"You know the average Tines cares for its pups. We've manipulated parental sentiments often enough. Imagine how it must be for the humans. To them, a single pup is also an entire child. Think of the leverage that gives us."

"You're seriously betting everything on this? Ravna isn't even Jefri's parent."

Steel made an irritated gesture. "You haven't seen all of Amdi's translations." Innocent Amdi, the perfect spy. "But you're right, saving the one child is not the main reason for this Visit. I've tried to find out their real motive. There are one hundred fifty-one children in some kind of deathly stupor, all stacked up in coffins within the ship. The Visitors are desperate to save the children, but there's something else they want. They never quite talk about it… I think it's in the machinery of the ship itself."

"For all we know the children are a brood force, part of an invasion."

That was an old fear and — after watching Amdijefri — Steel saw no chance of it. There could be other traps but, "If the Visitors are lying to us, then there is really nothing we can do to win. We'll be hunted animals; maybe generations from now we'll learn their tricks, but it will be the end of us. On the other hand, we have good reason to believe that the Two-Legs are weak, and whatever their goals, they do not involve us directly. You were there the day of the landing, much closer than I. You saw how easy it was to ambush them, even though their ship is impregnable and their single weapon a match for a small army. It is obvious that they do not consider us a threat. No matter how powerful their tools, their real fears are elsewhere. And in that Starship, we have something they need.

"Look at the foundations of our new castle, Tyrathect. I've told Amdijefri that it is to protect the Starship against Woodcarver. It will do that — later in the Summer when I shatter Woodcarver upon its ramparts. But see the foundations of the curtain around the Starship. By the time our Visitors arrive, the ship will be envaulted. I've done some quiet tests on its hull. It can be breached; a few dozen tons of stone falling on it would quite nicely crush it. But Ravna is not to worry; this is all for the protection of her prize. And there will be an open courtyard nearby, surrounded by strangely high walls. I've asked Jefri to get Ravna's help on this. The courtyard will be just large enough to enclose Ravna's ship, protecting it too.

"There are many details still to be settled. We must make the tools Ravna describes. We must arrange the demise of Woodcarver, well before the Visitors arrive. I need your help in all those things, and I expect to receive it. In the end, if the Visitors are treacherous, we will make the best stand that can be. And if they are not… well I think you'll agree that my reach has at least matched my teacher's."

For once, the Flenser Fragment had no reply.

The ship's control cabin was Jefri and Amdi's favorite place in all of Lord Steel's domain. Being here could still make Jefri very sad, but now the good memories seemed the stronger… and here was the best hope for the future. Amdi was still entranced by the window displays — even if the views were all of wooden walls. By their second visit they had already come to regard the place as their private kingdom, like Jefri's treehouse back on Straum. And in fact the cabin was much too small to hold more than a single pack. Usually a member of their bodyguard would sit just inside the entrance to the main hold, but even that seemed to be uncomfortable duty. This was a place where they were important.

For all their rambunctiousness, Amdi and Jefri realized the trust that Lord Steel and Ravna were placing in them. The two kids might race around out-of-doors, driving their guards to distraction, but the equipment in this command cabin must be treated as cautiously as when Mom and Dad were here. In some ways, there was not much left in the ship. The datasets were destroyed; Jefri's parents had them outside when Woodcarver attacked. During the winter, Mr. Steel had carried out most of the loose items to study. The coldsleep boxes were now safe in cool chambers nearby. Every day Amdijefri inspected the boxes, looked at each familiar face, checked the diag displays. No sleeper had died since the ambush.