But finally Samm looked across the table to Janos. He lowered his voice. "Can we get away from Alexei here? Can we catch another train north?"

"Which one?" asked Janos. "The thing about Wonderland Station is that every southbound train on Luna ends up here. And every northbound train starts here. Only one train goes farther south—the branch line to Gagarin and the ice mines; it's another two hours and a hundred klicks southeast. And another ten minutes to the actual south pole. But that's a dead end. You'd have to come back the same way."

"So if Gagarin is a dead end, then why does Alexei want us to go there? Wouldn't it make more sense to head north from here?"

"I'm not sure what his thinking is," Janos admitted. "You know how he is. 'Is much big good idea. You will see. Trust me, I make you rich.'" Once again, his mimicry was perfect.

"His thinking is to get us out of the way," I said.

Janos looked at me. Samm said to him. "Maura figured it out too."

"Figured what out?" demanded Patty.

"Shh," said Samm. "Your mommy figured out what a good girl you've been. You can have an extra scoop of ice cream."

"That's not what you're talking about," she said.

"Pattycakes." I leaned over and put my hand on top of hers. We both wore the same awful shade of pink nail polish, the only color Al-exei had thought to order. Even as the words came out of my mouth, I hated saying them. "This is a grown-up thing, sweetheart. But after we figure it out for ourselves, I'll explain it to you, okay?"

Surprisingly, she agreed. She smiled up at me, suddenly patted my tummy, and said, "Nice monkey. You be good now." Then she turned back to her thick slice of bread, spreading it lavishly with butter and jam. I found myself smiling. This kid actually had a good head on her—his?—shoulders.

And then I found myself wondering about that. This whole gender thing was confusing. Ever since Bobby and I had put on dresses we were both acting like we were part of the same family. Why was that? Were we playacting? Or were we finally taking ourselves seriously? If we kept this up, Douglas would never let either of us be a boy again.

BREAD-AND-BUTTER ISSUES

I turned my attention back to Mickey and Douglas. In their costumes, it was easier to think of them as Samm and Janos. They were glumly picking at their salads. Occasionally one or the other would start a sentence, then stop in mid-phrase and shake his head. "Never mind."

"Well, why can't we just catch another train?" I asked. "There are trains coming through here every half hour. It's a major hub. The catapult is on the equator."

Janos stared off into space for a bit, figuring numbers in his head. "That's almost a day and a half on the train. Luna is bigger than you realize. And the trains only go sixty klicks an hour. If you need to go faster, you fly. And that's expensive." He shook his head. "No, I think we're looking at a different problem. If the bounty marshals really are looking for us, they don't have to look all over Luna, do they? They know we're trying to get a colony contract. We could have bids in our mailbox now—but I can't log on without the risk of being traced. Once we accept a bid, we're under colony protection, but we can't find out what bids we have without giving away our position. So we're effectively stalemated. Wait, there's more—" He stopped me from interrupting.

"Once we get to the catapult, we're effectively under starside jurisdiction, whether we have a contract or not. That's to protect our freedom to choose free of duress. So all we have to do is get to the catapult. But that also simplifies the problem for the bounty marshals. They only have to wait at the catapult and watch for new arrivals.They don't have to hunt all over Luna."

"Yeah? And what about the Gramma from Hell?" I asked. I inclined my head slightly toward the far side of the restaurant, where she sat with her husband. They seemed to be facing away from us, but so what? They didn't need to watch our every move. They only needed to see what train we left on.

Janos shrugged. "They might be freelancers—or part of a larger team. If someone is actually going to this much trouble, the reward must be enormous."

"Yeah, that makes sense," I said, patting my tummy. Just how much was a lethetic intelligence engine really worth? Billions? Trillions? Who knew? Supposedly, a well-informed engine could predict stock-market fluctuations with more than 90 percent accuracy. With that kind of information available, with the engine doing its own buying and selling on the web, how long would it take to earn back its own cost? I'd heard that even the lethetic engines themselves couldn't predict the full range of their eventual capabilities.

"But if they've identified us, why haven't they detained us?" asked Samm.

"They might be waiting for Alexei."

"But they don't know that Alexei is with us, do they?" I said.

"Look at the big picture. He's not at Geostationary, he's a Loonie, and his fingerprints are all over our escape. Especially that business with the pod. It wouldn't take an elevator scientist to figure out that he's taking us somewhere." He scratched his chin. "They're just waiting for him to show his bony face. That's what they're waiting for. Then they'll swoop down. Or, maybe … "

"Maybe what?"

"Maybe they want to give us room to run. Maybe they want to see what Alexei has planned. He represents a lot of money that nobody is collecting user fees on. Well, he is—but no legal authorities are. Maybe they're not after us. Maybe they're after Alexei. Maybe he's using usas his cover. Think about that. So they let us run with him because we make it harder for him to disappear. We're just too easy to follow."

"This was a stupid idea," I muttered. Meaning everything.

"Maybe not," said Janos. "We're on Luna. We're not on Earth. We're not on the Line. We're under Lunar jurisdiction—until we can get to starside jurisdiction. As soon as we accept a bid … " His voice trailed off.

"What?" demanded Samm.

"Maybe. Maybe not. It's a loophole." He helped himself to another slice of bread and began thoughtfully buttering it. He took his time. Lunar bread is lighter and fluffier than the same loaf baked on Earth; bread rises higher in low gee, so the loaf isn't as dense and the slices are softer—another one of those little differences you don't realize until you bump into them.

Finally, he said, "We could check the mail. If there's a bid—and there should be at least three—we accept it. It doesn't matter where. We accept it. That puts us under starside jurisdiction, and the marshals can't touch us. Once we get to the catapult, we have the legal right to cancel the bid in favor of a better one."

"Will that work?"

"The problem is, once we accept that bid, we only have five days to change our minds. And the catapult is effectively two days from here. So we arrive with very little margin. If we cancel, and we don't have a replacement bid, we lose starside protection. And most colonies won't issue a bid if they know you've already accepted one somewhere else. They've all had enough bad luck with folks playing one against the other that they won't play that game anymore. At least, not openly—and then, you'd have to be someone pretty special. So … it's doable, but it's dangerous."

"I don't like it," said Samm. "Remember what Judge Griffith said. Choose carefully. We can't take chances."