"Two left," I said, moving into the freeborns' view. "Even odds. Still want to play?"

One of them risked a look over his shoulder, maybe to see if there were more where I came from, or maybe to check on his companions. The noise they were making should have told him their state. The other kept his eyes on us. The expression on his bloodied face told me Maeve had taught him to keep his eyes on her. I could have blind-sided his nosy partner, but I gave them a chance to answer my question.

The nosy one gulped and shook his head. The two freebirths backed away. The two still on their feet helped the exterior decorators up, and the four of them managed to rouse their leader enough that they only had to half-drag him away into the darkness.

"Nice timing, friend," Maeve said. She tossed hair back out of her eyes and got her first good look at me. "Brian!"

I was pleased to see her expression of relief change to one of gladness. "It looked like you needed help."

"They lost the first bid and upped the stakes." She shrugged and winced. "They were drunk enough. No real threat."

"The medical center is down the street. I was headed there anyway.",

"Don't need a doc," she said, rubbing the side of her head. She looked surprised to find blood on her fingers. "I would have handled them."

"Sure." I offered her the medpack from my belt. "Sure."

She smiled sheepishly as she took my offering. "Thought you were on duty tonight."

"Things were slow." I made a point of looking elsewhere while she tended her cuts and scrapes. "You fought well."

"Good reflexes," she said with a shrug. Then she smiled, a twinkle in her eyes reflecting memories of other times. I wished I could have been a part of those times she seemed to recall with such pleasure. Then the moment was gone and she returned to the present. "They should have known better, but everyone thinks they're better than the ones who tried before."

That didn't sound good. "You've been attacked before? The Wolf should be told."

She shook her head.

"Not his business. Not my style." She laughed, but she couldn't hide the concern in her eyes. "Come on, Brian. You're not a spheroid. You grew up in the Dragoons like I did. You ever go crying to your sibparents when another sibko gave you an impromptu test behind the barracks?"

"Of course not. It wouldn't be honorable."

"Or smart." Her expression demanded agreement and I complied with a nod. She shrugged again. "That's all that happened here. A few freebirths thought they were better than me just because they've got blood parents. I was just educating them."

"They didn't seem to be grasping the lesson too well."

"I guess it was a large class for just one teacher. I'm glad you came along."

Her smile melted me. "So am I."

"You said you were headed for the med center? The Wolf ordering up a new crop?"

"No. Not that. I was ... I was just ..." I found myself wanting to tell her the real reason I was going to the med center, but her offhanded remark had struck too close to the truth and I was wary. I wanted to tell her, to share with her, but I was afraid. I tried telling myself that it was the scent of her in my nostrils and the heat of her nearness on my skin that made me, so unsure of myself. I wanted to believe that she would understand, but I couldn't be sure. I'd never met anyone who had understood, but then, I had never told anyone outside my sibko about what I did, and I hadn't even told all my mates. James would have laughed his derision. Maeve might scorn me the same way.

"Just what?"

Her eyes that had been steel when turned toward those who would harm her were clouds of soft gray now. They made me believe that she cared. Fearing that I might have misread her, I throttled up my courage.

"I was going to the wombs." Her brow wrinkled briefly in puzzlement. I quailed.

"Why?" she asked quietly.

"It's where I go when I have to think." There. I had said it. She could taunt me now. Better I had told James; I could have punched him. Waiting for her scorn, I realized my eyes were closed in anticipation of her harsh words. Wouldn't a warrior react harshly to someone who still ran back to where he had been birthed whenever he was troubled?

"Me, too," she said.

I looked at her. Her face was expressionless, tranquil. The pools of her eyes were cool depths. I could have drowned in them. The heat of my embarrassment was quenched. I was only too happy to agree when she asked if she could come along. I hadn't been sure I wanted to be alone, and I was not about to pass up the chance to spend some off-duty time in her company.

The womb halls were mostly dark; all the scientists having returned to their quarters for the night. Only a skeleton staff was on duty and they stayed at their monitors, leaving only to take their breaks in the lounge. We walked the corridors unchallenged. I knew our close connections to the Wolf were enough authorization for our presence, but had anyone noticed us, we would have been reported. I didn't want that, and I didn't need to ask Maeve if she agreed with my clandestine approach. Her stealthy tread as we neared the building had told me that she knew the unwritten rules concerning night visits to the wombs.

We made our way to the visitors' gallery outside chamber 17. Beyond the transpex was my birthplace. Or so I had decided. We were never told which of the womb chambers had been ours. If the particular gallery made any difference to Maeve, she never said.

Through the transpex we could see the iron wombs in the chamber. It was night cycle, but we didn't turn on the lights. We didn't need to; the chamber had light enough for our purposes. Most of the soft illumination came from the floor strips marking the aisles with dots of amber. The wombs themselves were firefly structures of monitors and status lights. There were no red lights. All was calm, quiet.

For a while, we sat without saying anything, content to soak up the peace of the place. Haltingly, we began to talk. At first we spoke about the little matters of our work, like returning to quarters after a contract or the problems of explaining to a tech how your 'Mech just feelswrong. Low-key shoptalk. She told a funny story of how a sibmate had gotten himself a year's worth of extra duty and that got us onto how our sib-mates were doing. From there we moved on to growing up in a sibko. I guess it was almost inevitable, given where we were.

She was a delight and I hoped I didn't bore her. I was startled-to notice how close together we were now sitting on the bench when she surprised me with a sudden shift of topic.

"You said you come here when you need to think. I don't think you wanted to relive your childhood. That's best done elsewhere and with your sibmates. What were you coming here for?" She rushed on before I could answer. "You can tell me to shut up, if you want. If it's business and you can't talk about it, I'll understand."

"No, it's all right. It's not business. Or at least not exactly." I knew my smile was lopsided, but I hoped it was reassuring. "I saw an old communique today. About the gene pool."

"You know your parents?" She was eager, excited by the possibility. Obviously our talk had brought such speculation to the front of her mind. She had told me that hers was an unnamed sibko and now it seemed that she had transferred her own hopes of learning her parentage to my situation. In her eyes I saw unfeigned joy for what she believed to be my good fortune. I had to disappoint her.