He couldn’t believe it. "That’s impossible. The Dreamers consider this art. They would never destroy it."

"The whole bridge is shaking. It doesn’t feel stable."

They stared at each other. Then they scrambled to their feet and took off running for the northern cliffs. The cliffs were closer than the courtyard, but even so they had nearly a kilometer to go.

Suddenly the bridge lurched like a string shaken by a mammoth child. Flailing

Then it came: a great booming crack. Thunder roared as if a great mountainous rib was tearing away from the Giant’s skeleton. The bridge convulsed and they sprawled forward, slammed down onto the path. Rolling onto his side, Jato grabbed Soz and they held on to each other while the universe convulsed around them.

Within seconds the frenzied gyrations of the bridge eased. They managed to sit up, hanging onto each other while they stared back along the way they had come.

Meters away, the broken end of the Promenade hung in the air.

For one endless instant they stared at the jagged remains of that break. The shuddering edge shook off a chunk of itself, and the boulder dropped into the void below, hurtling into the shadows.

Carefully, so very carefully, they got to their feet and backed away, taking each step as if they were in a mine field. Only when they were well away from the break did they turn.

And then they ran.

The Promenade groaned in the onslaught of wind. They sped through a universe of wailing gales and convulsing rock, racing toward the shadowed bulk of a mountain that seemed an eternity distant.

Finally, mercifully, they were almost there. A few more steps-

A meter away from safety, the bridge pitched under their feet and slammed them against the wall. Stars wheeled past Jato’s vision as he flipped over the barrier. He grabbed at the air, at the rock, anything-

With a wrenching jolt, he yanked to a stop. He had caught a projection and was hanging from it, his body dangling against the outer side of the Promenade. He scrabbled for a toehold, but the bridge was shaking too much to let him get purchase. Far below, the chasm waited.

His hands began to slip.

"Jato!" Soz’s voice was almost on top of him. She had fallen lengthwise on the wall, with one leg hanging over the edge.

"Below you!" he shouted. His hands slipped again.

As she grabbed for him, he lost his grip. She caught one of his wrists-and the force of his falling yanked her off the wall. They dropped, dropped, dropped-

And smashed into ground. Soz landed on top of him with an impact that nearly broke his ribs. She rolled off and kept rolling, scrabbling for a handhold. He clutched her upper arm, but it jerked through his grasp, then her elbow, her lower arm, her wrist-and he locked hands with her, clutching in desperation while they slid downhill. He struggled to stop their plunge, but his fingers just scraped over stone.

Then he caught a jutting piece of rock and held on hard, his body straining with Soz’s weight. A scratching came from below-and she let go of his hand.

"Soz, no!" He grabbed at the air. "Soz!"

"It’s all right." Her strained voice came from below him. "You slowed me down enough so I could stop on a ledge. We’re on a shelf in the cliff, under the Promenade."

"How can you tell? It’s dark." Even the starlight was muted below the bridge.

"Got enhanced optics in my eyes," she said. He heard more scrabbling, and then she was pulling herself up beside him.

So they went, climbing the cliff centimeter by excruciating centimeter. Soz reached the landing at the end of the Promenade and stood up, her body silhouetted against the stars. He climbed up next to her, half expecting the ground to crumble. But they were solidly on the mountain now, at the top of a staircase that wound its way through the mountains down to the plateau.

They descended in silence. Gradually the wind eased, until it was no more than a whisper of its earlier violence.

Finally Soz said, "Someone knew we were up there."

"The drones." Jato wondered if Crankenshaft had set alarms in the city computer web to alert him when anyone looked at records of the trial. Whoever had set the Wind Lions against them would be desperate now, knowing they had to complete what they started lest Soz escape and report back to ISC.

"I hadn’t intended to get involved here," Soz said. "I was going to wait until I got back to headquarters to recommend they send an investigator."

Investigator? Jato stiffened. If ISC got into this, he could be retried in an Imperial court. "Soz, why? I’m serving the sentence they gave me."

She spoke quietly. "To find out why someone went to so much trouble to trump up that phony murder charge against you."

That threw him. Really threw him. Crankenshaft had been meticulous in setting up the evidence, specifically to fool people like Soz.

It was a moment before he found his voice. "How did you know it was false?"

She snorted. "I saw the holos of that kid you supposedly killed. He was hanging around the port docks, watching a ship unload cargo."

"‘That kid’ was a computer creation. He never existed."

"I know."

"But how?"

She motioned toward the starport. "In several holos you can see the ship he’s watching. It’s a Tailor Scout, Class IV. Eight years ago those Tailors were using non-standard flood lamps to light their docking bays. Kaegul lamps. Advertised as ‘the next best thing to sunlight.’ They emitted ultraviolet light as well as visible."

"Sounds reasonable."

She shook her head. "Their UV component was too strong. It caused sunburns. So that model fell out of use fast. Only a few ships ever carried it."

Jato whistled. "Dreamers have less melanin in their skin than most people. It makes them more susceptible to UV."

Quietly she said, "Any Dreamer who spent as long under those Kaeguls as they claimed that boy did would have been broiled raw. Those records are beautiful, near perfect. Probably 99.9 percent of the people seeing them would have been fooled. But they’re still fakes." Glancing at him, she added, "That’s not all."

"What else?"

"Combat."

"Combat?"

"See enough of it and you get good at recognizing the symptoms of shock." She watched his face. "You. In every holo. You hardly said a word throughout that entire trial."

The whole nightmare was a blur in his mind. "Nothing I said would have made any difference."

"But why, Jato? Judging from how the Dreamers treat you-forgive me for saying it, but they act as if they don’t like having you around."

"They think I’m revolting."

"So why make you stay?"

His voice tightened. "Because of Granite Crankenshaft."

"What is that?"

"Not what. Who. A Dreamer. He wanted me to be his model. For life. To sit for him with nothing in return but the ‘honor’ of living here. I told him no. I thought he was crazy."

She stared at him. "He framed you for murder because you wouldn’t be his model?"

"I don’t know why. He finds me as repulsive as everyone else here." Jato spread his hands. "He used blackmail because it’s more effective than abduction. As long as I cooperate, he won’t call in the Imperial authorities."

"All because he wants to paint your picture?"

"Not paint. Holosculpture. It’s on his web. I’ve never seen what he’s doing." He exhaled. "The stakes are high, Soz. His sculptures bring in millions. A few have gone for billions."

She drew him to a stop. "This Crankenshaft-does he have glittering hair?"

"I don’t know. It’s too short to tell."

"Black?"

"Yes."

"How about his eyes?"

"Grey, with red rings."

"Bloodshot?"

"No. The irises have red in them."

She blew out a gust of air. "This is making more sense."

"It is?"

"The Traders established this colony."