And Martina would never have been enslaved.

With the discovery of slipspace, humans and other intelligent life spread quickly through the galaxy, and the pokey colony ships vanished from living memory. They coasted slowly onward, their slumbering inhabitants confidently waiting to wake on a new, unspoiled world.

Then the slavers discovered them.

After almost a thousand years, all records of Martina, her family, and the other colonists had been lost or simply wiped. There was no proof that they weren't slaves, no one alive who even remembered they had existed. Dazed by the abrupt exit from cryo-sleep, the colonists had been unable to resist being shackled and herded aboard the slaver's ship. Later, they were hauled onto a space station and auctioned off. Martina had watched Utang being taken away by a slaver, though the slaver hadn't said why or where he was taking him. Then Martina had watched Evan and her mother being taken away by a woman in green. Martina had started to cry. Evan had said something to her, something about staying brave because he would find her one day, but she had barely heard him because she was crying so hard. Then he was gone.

Martina shook her head. It was all in the past-three owners ago, in fact. None of it mattered, and as long as she kept busy, either in the Dream or with her sketching, she didn't have to dwell on it.

Trouble was, she didn't have her sketchbook for drawing or her drugs for entering the Dream. There were the games and books on the computer, but Martina wasn't in the mood to read, and holographic games had never interested her. She rummaged around the computer terminal until she found the stylus, then searched the directory until she came across an art program. It activated at her command. Martina waved the stylus through the air, and it left a bright green trail in three dimensions. She nodded to herself. Three-dee art wasn't as fun as drawing, but it had its compensations.

Martina erased the trail and started sketching, just letting her hand go where it would. After a while, she realized she was creating pair a pair of rough portraits-a twelve-year-old boy with dark skin and eyes and a fifteen-year-old boy with equally dark skin but startlingly blue eyes. Evan and Utang. Annoyed with herself, Martina wiped the air clean and drew a series of animals. A falcon. A kangaroo. A koala bear. And all three reminded her of Evan. The koala had his eyes. The kanga mimicked his posture. The falcon shared his fierce expression. Angrily Martina wiped the holograms again and shut down the program. Then she sat down on the bed and drummed her fingers restlessly against her thighs.

All life, why was she here?

Gretchen slid through the crowd, avoiding elbows and insteps. Ken Jeung, head of the Collection's medical department, walked purposefully ahead of her. Jeung always walked purposefully, and somehow people always got out of his way. This made it hell to shadow him through the crowds on SA Station, and Gretchen's nerves were already wracked with the effort of doing so without attraction attention — his or Security's. The fact that he was short and dark-haired didn't make trailing him any easier, since he tended to blend in with other humans.

The shimmering lights of FunSec jumped and capered all around Gretchen. Laughter bubbled out of casinos along with the jingling of metal chits. The only illumination was provided by the thousands of moving, glittering lights that flashed the names of the establishments or projected giant holograms toward the faraway ceiling, providing street entertainment and, incidentally, slowing traffic as people stopped to watch. Gretchen suspected the latter effect was a way of making sure people didn't breeze past the casinos, theaters, and restaurants without looking at them. Currently, a three-story tall human salsa dancer in a red dress was doing a highly suggestive routine with a tall green alien, and both were getting a lot of attention from just about everyone except Jeung.

Gretchen stepped around a waist-high creature with long fur and stubby legs, dodged between two humans, and sidestepped something that reminded her of a walking tree. Humans were a majority on SA Station, but only barely, and Gretchen couldn't identify many of the non-humans. Most of the different species had their own enclaves, but a great deal of mixing went on in FunSec.

The travel corridor was so tall and wide Gretchen found herself thinking of it as a street, complete with sidewalks, doors, windows, and vehicle traffic. Restaurants scented the air with smells of fried food, baked sweets, and other aromas Gretchen couldn't identify. Humans and non-humans chattered among themselves and with each other while dry computer voices provided translations. Music boomed overhead to accompany the holographic dancers. Vehicles zipped up and down the street, hovering just above the metal flooring. Crowded walkways made zigzags and lattices far above ground level. The only greenery came from the occasional potted tree. The erratic lighting, designed to make FunSec always feel like a night-time fun spot, left large chunks of shadow, and Gretchen used them to her advantage while following Jeung.

Jeung turned a corner and Gretchen hurried to catch up. By now she was fairly sure of her quarry's destination, but she didn't want to take a chance on being wrong. Her suspicions were confirmed when she reached the next street and saw Jeung mount a short flight of red-carpeted steps that led to a set of gold-rimmed obsidian doors. A uniformed door attendant touched her hat and held the door for him. Gretchen ducked into an alleyway and tapped her earpiece.

"He's at it again," she said.

" Third time this week," came Kendi's voice in her ear. " And it's only Wednesday. The man defines the term 'habitual.' You think you can get in there and get some more info on our friend now that we know he's a regular? "

"Can't hurt to try. Gimme a few to let him get settled in with his thing of the evening and we'll see."

Gretchen settled back to wait. The door attendant let in three more humans-one man, two women-and let out two more-both men. A huge centipede pittered up the steps and was granted admission. It re-emerged again a few minutes later. Finally Gretchen judged enough time had passed. She put on a nonchalant air, crossed the street, and sauntered up the steps. The attendant touched her cap and opened the door.

Inside, Gretchen found everything looking like a brothel should. Plush red carpet, scarlet and gold wallpaper, big marble staircase, trays of drinks hovering obsequiously about, and various beings for rent chatting up potential customers. Lighting and music were soft, conversation muted. The furniture setup made nooks and crannies for private conversation, and there was even a small dance floor. Humans and non-humans mixed freely, most with some sort of beverage at hand.

Some of the non-humans were humanoid, with exotic pelts, antennae, ears, or skin tone. Many, however, weren't even bipedal. Creatures scuttled, slithered, glided, and even oozed around the common room. One looked like a giant turtle with a couch cushion on its back. A human man reclined on the creature, drink in hand. Another non-human seemed to be a three-headed snake with amazingly muscular arms. Its tail was twined sensuously around the waist of another human male. Gretchen couldn't decide if she wanted to laugh or barf. And Jeung was nowhere in sight.

"What are you drinking?" said a smooth voice at her elbow.