Lucia's ocular implant flashed the time across her retina. She had five minutes to make it to her quarters before daily ritual. A hurried descent in the lift, a light jog down another corridor, and she was entering her own rooms.

As the newest member of the crew, Lucia rated the smallest quarters on the ship. Living room barely big enough to turn around in, bedroom not much wider than her single bunk, efficiency bathroom, no kitchen. Lucia didn't really mind. The place did have a decent-sized window. At the moment, the view was currently black, star-strewn space. Every so often a point of light crept across the void-a ship or a shuttle. Flat pictures and full holograms covered every inch of wall space. People smiled, waved, made faces, or struck silly poses, and all of them bore similar features. Lucia had six brothers and sisters, a dozen aunts and uncles, nieces and nephews galore, and cousins beyond counting. She smiled fondly at a photo of her parents taken not long after their marriage. They were sitting on a porch swing holding hands. She would have to write them a letter soon, see if Ben would be willing to relay it to Bellerophon through the Dream. There was so much to tell them, though she knew Dad would be a little unnerved when he heard how close she and the others had come to getting caught while rescuing Bedj-ka. She could almost hear his voice, unsettled but touched with pride all the same: " You're just a little kid! My baby girl! You're going to give your poor old dad a heart attack one of these days with these adventures of yours! "

An alarm chimed softly and Lucia shook herself. It was time. Two steps took Lucia to the tiny altar set just below the window. On it stood a small statue of Irfan Qasad carved from smooth white marble. Her features bore a peaceful serenity that calmed Lucia whenever she saw them. In the statue's left hand was a scroll, symbol of communication. The statue's right hand was raised in a gesture of beckoning. Leaves and ivy were etched into her clothing, and a double-helix strand of DNA wound around her upraised arm. At the statue's feet sat a small gold platter and three squat candles. Lucia picked up a striker and lit the first candle.

"Great Lady, let the winds and the oceans, the nights and days, the Dream and the world, be all sweet to us." She lit the second candle. "Wondrous Mother, let us follow the path of your goodness for always, like the stars and planets moving in the sky. " She lit the third candle. "Guide and Goddess, let us know and appreciate the points of view of others. You who are the wise and benevolent lady of speech, shower your blessings on us that we may continue your work."

Lucia took up a stick of incense and lit it from one of the candles. The soft, sweet smoke stole over her, and she felt her muscles relax under the familiar ritual, one she had been performing since childhood. She pressed the base of the statue, and a quiet music filled the room like gentle bells. When the song faded, it seemed to Lucia that a quiet, benign presence filled the room and her heart. Lucia breathed a greeting.

"Welcome, Great Mother, and hear my prayer," she murmured. "Thank you for returning Bedj-ka to Harenn and for granting her the happiness she deserves. Let us find Father Kendi's brother and sister. Let them remain safe and whole until we can bring them to the safety of your bosom. Keep my family safe and well. Let Narmi's pregnancy go well and touch her child with your blessings. Distract the evil Vik and keep him from tainting our lives with his foul presence."

Lucia paused and took a deep breath, trying to remain calm while saying difficult words. Her throat threatened to close anyway. "And please, Great Lady, do not withdraw the blessing of Silence from your people. Do not allow your servants to scatter like the wind. The Children of Irfan do great good in the universe, and it would be wrong to let them fade away. I beg you, Kind One, to grant my Silent brethren entry into the Dream once again. I give thanks for your blessings and pray for your wisdom. Your will be in all."

She waited a moment, inhaling sweet smoke and mumming a soft chant. Irfan would not let her children die away. She was good and kind, a force for order and justice. Lucia simply had to have faith everything would work out. There was nothing else she could do. Several long breaths later, Irfan's peace and serenity settled over Lucia like a well-worn blanket. She sighed heavily. Everything would be fine, as long as she kept her faith.

Lucia picked up a small silver snuffer, put out the candles, and doused the incense. A few moments later she was down in the galley rummaging through the cabinets and refrigerator for sandwich fixings. She had already set an enormous pot of coffee on to brew, and the rich smell quickly permeated the room. Lucia's scarred hands laid out new loaves of brioche, thin-sliced ham, hard salami, crunchy water cress, sweet peppers, spicy benyai leaves, cheddar cheese, and an assortment of sauces ranging from milky-mild to tongue-blisteringly sharp. The Children of Irfan might be a monastic order, but the monks didn't practice asceticism in food or in living arrangements. The Pathway Church of Irfan didn't require it, either, and for this Lucia was grateful.

"At it again, I see," came Ben Rymar's gentle voice from the galley door. Lucia turned to face him.

"As Irfan so perfectly put it," she replied with a smile, " 'If I don't, who will?' "

"Definitely not me." Ben leaned casually against the doorframe. "Cooking is the anti-Irfan, as far as I'm concerned."

Lucia shook her head. "It's fun, you heathen."

"I'm glad someone thinks so," Ben said. "Mom didn't cook, either, and sometimes I think Kendi would be happy eating grubs torn from a rotten log. Ever since you joined the crew, we've been eating high off the hog."

"Thank you, kind sir," Lucia said, pretending to simper. "Just send Harenn the finder's fee for bringing me here."

Ben pulled up a chair and sat facing Lucia over the back. Lucia finished slicing bread, then dealt the round pieces out on the counter like cards and began piling generous portions of sandwich fixings on them. She felt comfortable with Ben in the galley, as if one of her brothers were stopping in for a visit.

"You and Harenn are pretty good friends," Ben observed. "How did you two ever hook up, anyway? I never heard."

Lucia picked up a bowl of sauce and a plastic spreader. "You know that I'm a licensed private investigator, right?" When Ben nodded, she went on. "Harenn hired me to look for Bedj-ka because I'm also a pilot and could more easily check out other planets. I wasn't able to find him, obviously, but Harenn and I got along really well. We'd both been jilted by our husbands, so we already had something in common."

"You used to be married?" Ben said. "I didn't know that."

"I was very young and it didn't last long," Lucia said. "One day Jax up and ran off. No reason, no explanation, nothing. Just divorce papers served from a distance. Later I found out Jax had been sleeping with some bimbina even before he and I got engaged." She thwacked an onion in half. "Men are pigs."

"Oink."

Lucia laughed. "Sorry. Sometimes I forget that you're a… I mean… oh, dear."

"Right."

"Anyway," Lucia hurried on, "Harenn and I became friends. Good thing, too-the PI business was getting a little thin even before the Despair came along. These days my one-woman agency exists only on paper. My contract with the Children is the only thing keeping me from having to move back in with my family. I love them, but they're a big and noisy bunch."