“He’s the one who grabbed them. If you wanted to, you know, press charges.”

“I don’t want to involve the police at all.” She filled the second cup. Her face was still oddly blank. “Is he dangerous in some way?”

“Sala? Probably not.” Eliana stared down at the surface of her tea. “But here’s the thing—he, ah, he was taking the documents to Ignacio Cabrera.”

Heavy silence filled the room. Lady Luna set her teacup down and folded her hands in her lap. “That’s not terribly surprising.”

There it was, the crack in her exterior. A line of panic shuddered through her features and then disappeared.

“Cabrera didn’t actually see them,” Eliana added. “The documents.”

“What did you say his name was again?” Lady Luna stared out the window. “The man who—who had them?”

“Pablo Sala. He works for the city. Engineer, like I thought.”

“Interesting. Thank you.” There was an uncanny coldness in her voice. “I’m sorry it did turn out that Mr. Cabrera was involved in this affair, however tangentially. I was hoping my suspicions would be wrong on that count. I’ll compensate for the danger. Twice what I said I’d originally pay.”

“That really isn’t necessary,” Eliana said, out of politeness rather than sincerity.

“I insist.”

Eliana decided not to feign politeness longer than she needed.

Lady Luna picked up her teacup and took a neat, elegant sip.

“I can go ahead and give you the papers now.” Eliana set the envelope on the table. “Didn’t mean to hold on to it for so long. I didn’t peek, I swear.”

“I know you didn’t.”

“What?”

Lady Luna didn’t explain, only set down her teacup and picked up the envelope. Undid the fasteners, slid the parchment out, nodded once.

“Everything is in order,” Lady Luna said. “Thank you.” She stood up, holding the envelope at her side. “If you wait here, I’ll fetch your payment. I really am so grateful for everything you’ve done.”

“No problem.” Eliana still wondered how in hell Lady Luna knew she hadn’t looked at the documents. She wished she had looked now. She wouldn’t have done anything about it; she just wanted to know.

Lady Luna left the parlor, her footsteps echoing down the hall. She took the envelope with her. Steam curled out of the teakettle. The room was so quiet that Eliana could hear her ears buzzing. Every now and then she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, her clothes neat but worn, her hair unstyled. She didn’t belong here. Never would either. This was the only way to live on Antarctica, in a private dome with its own generators. Otherwise you were better off on the mainland, where you didn’t risk dying just by going out in the open.

Eliana wondered if the mainland looked the way Southstar did, all those fields of golden grass. When she was a little girl, her daydreams had been informed by the mainland television shows that broadcast during the day. Blue oceans and jungles and palm trees. But then her mother had explained that only the northern part of Argentina looked like this, and that the programs were mostly from Brazil and dubbed into Castilian. The amusement park had been built by a Brazilian company, Autômatos Teixeira, and there were still a handful of people from Brazil living in Hope City, and they liked to watch programs from their homeland.

That was all a long time ago, though. Autômatos Teixeira had long since gone bankrupt, and the amusement park had given way to power plants in order to justify the existence of the city. “One day you’ll leave this place,” Eliana’s mother had told her. “And you’ll see palm trees for yourself.”

Eliana reached over and poured herself a second cup of tea. It was stronger than she was used to. No milk. Well. Winter must hit the private domes too. She imagined that when she was on the mainland, like her mother used to dream for her—and that goal was closer than it had been for a long time, with the extra money from Lady Luna—she’d have all the milk she wanted.

“Here we are.” Lady Luna stepped into the doorway. The brown envelope was gone, replaced by a slim checkbook and a pen. She sat down. “I assume this is all right?” she asked, holding up the checkbook.

Eliana nodded.

Lady Luna smiled. “I wasn’t certain when I came to visit you for the first time. I’ve never hired a private investigator before.” She flipped open her checkbook and began scribbling.

“My business is registered with the city.”

“Oh, I apologize. That was rude of me. It’s just—it’s not the world I’m used to.”

Liar, Eliana thought. Lady Luna might have an airy way of speaking, but it was weighed down by something indefinable, like she was only playing at being stupid. And the way she said it, not the world I’m used to—Lady Luna knew exactly that sort of world better than she let on.

And what world was that? Eliana wondered. One where you buy things in cash, where private investigators are criminals?

She reminded herself that she had broken into Sala’s house to get those documents.

“Here we are, dear.” Lady Luna ripped off her check and handed it to Eliana. She’d doubled her payment, just like she’d promised.

“Thank you.” Eliana folded up the check and slipped it into her purse. Lady Luna watched her over the top of her teacup, eyebrows arched.

Eliana stood up. “I should go. I don’t want to trouble you any more—”

“It’s no trouble. I really don’t mind if you stay and finish your tea.”

She seemed sincere. But Eliana shook her head. “It’s been a long day.”

“I can only imagine.” Lady Luna smiled and stood up, smoothing out her skirt. “Oh, one last thing before you go. I can’t express to you how thankful I am that you brought these documents back to me.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that.” Eliana grinned to show it was a joke. “It’s just my job, Lady Luna. You paid me, I did it.”

“Yes, but—” Lady Luna waved her hand, as if to dismiss her own words. “I’m throwing a little party in a few days, on Saturday. I’d be delighted if you could come.”

“A party,” Eliana said.

“Yes, it’s nothing much, just cocktails and music. But I have some friends who might be interested in meeting with you, who might have need of your . . . services, and I would love a chance to bring you some more business.” She smiled, and there was the Lady Luna that Eliana had seen on television so many times. “Oh, please say yes, Ms. Gomez. It’d mean the world to me if I could help you acquire a few more clients.”

“Fine.” Eliana held up one hand. “Yes. I’ll come.” She couldn’t believe she’d just agreed to it, but the promise of clients seemed genuine, and if they all paid as well as Lady Luna, then she might have her visa money by the end of winter. Besides, Eliana realized she had more of a desire to find out about Lady Luna’s documents than she cared to admit. “Saturday?”

“Yes, at eight o’clock. Nothing too formal. A cocktail dress would be fine.”

Eliana had to give Lady Luna credit for answering the question about the dress code before she’d even asked it.

“All right,” Eliana said. “I’ll see you then.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

SOFIA

Sofia and Luciano sat side by side at a table close to the Florencia stage. A human girl was swaying in time to a burlesque song from the mainland, too modern to be a danger. When Sofia had brought Ignacio Cabrera the information about the new icebreakers and he’d hired her as his new reprogrammer, those were the terms she’d established: he would not play any music from before 1936 in her presence.

Tonight was her first assignment in this new position.

“He’s late,” Luciano said.

“He’s always late.” Their table was empty. No plates, no silverware, no wineglasses. Sofia refused to play into the trappings of humanity. The desire to do so was a small program, one she could override if she concentrated hard enough.