"Either way, then. But we'll handle Stars' End. Honest. The fish really do know how to open the way. They found the key while we were there before."

"Huh?" He had not caught a hint from Chub. "The Sangaree, or Confederation... "

"They'd better come toting their guns if they want to steal it from us, Moyshe. Because they'll have a hell of a fight on their hands. There's a lot of us, honey. And we're looking for a fight. People have been pushing us ever since I can remember. We're tired of it. Once we get those weapons... "

"And sharks, darling. Don't forget the sharks. Oh, it's bound to be a gay party. How do I get transferred to a ground job?"

"You don't." She laughed. "I just heard a couple hours ago. You're going to be transferred to Security for the auction project."

She did not tell him that the auction project would be a pilot for a more ambitious program. If he and Storm performed well and faithfully they would be given joint chieftainship of their own espionage outfit. She did not think her own boss, Jarl Kindervoort, knew yet. The Ship's Commander seemed reluctant to discuss it with the man.

"Auction? That's Mouse's special haunt. How'd he get stuck with it, anyway?"

"It's going to be yours, too. Our new mindtechs will start coming aboard in a couple of days. And you'll move over to the project."

"Why?"

"Because you know The Broken Wings."

"Yeah. And I want to forget it." His previous mission, as a Bureau agent, had taken him to The Broken Wings. It had been a nasty affair.

"That's where the auction's going to be held. They already sent the permission request. It's just form from here on."

"Form? What you want to bet the place is crawling with Confies and Sangaree? You people stirred up some bad feelings... "

"She hit you pretty hard, eh?"

"What?"

"The woman. The Sangaree woman. That Marya Strehltsweiter."

"What? How did you?... Mouse. Shooting off his mouth."

"He didn't exactly volunteer it. And he told Jarl, not me. I found out when I was looking through the files for something else."

"All right." His heart hammered for no reason he could justify to himself. So he had gotten involved with the woman. He had not known she was Sangaree then. "It's over."

"I know. I knew that a long time ago. Mouse wrote that report after you shot her. I guess he thought it was important for Jarl to understand what you were going through."

That did not sound like Mouse. "She would've killed all of us. Sooner or later. I had to do it. I never shot anybody before."

"Especially somebody you still halfway cared about, eh?"

"Yeah. Can we drop it?"

"Did Mouse really do that? Inject her children with stardust?"

"Yes. Mouse plays for keeps. He doesn't have trouble with his conscience. Not the way I do."

"You really think the Sangaree will be at the auction?"

"They'll be there. They hold a grudge the way Mouse does. Amy, I don't want to get involved in that. I'm happy where I'm at. I like linking. Chub is a good friend. I was just scared there at first. I've been getting to know the other members of the herd... Hell, sometimes I go in just to bullshit with Chub."

BenRabi could relax with the starfish as he could with no human. He did not feel naked when he let the starfish see what he really felt and thought. Chub made no value judgments. His values were not human. He had, in fact, helped Moyshe make some small peace within himself.

Parts of his mind remained inaccessible to the starfish. Whole sections were hidden behind rigid walls. Moyshe could not guess what might lie there. He could sense nothing missing from his past.

Seiner life was changing Mouse, too, he reflected. Storm was becoming even more sure of himself, more bigger-than-life than he had always been. BenRabi could not pin it down. One or two nights a week playing chess together was not the same as sharing a minute to minute life under fire.

Mouse was an operative born. He had changed allegiance, but not professions. He had become part of Jarl Kindervoort's staff.

Flying easy. That was what benRabi had been doing since his release from the hospital. The only pressure he faced was Amy's near-militance in hinting about their getting married. Under Chub's ministrations his neuroses were scaling away. He had come to the Seiners with a great many.

"Not much more to see," Amy told him. The rearmost cameras were inside the asteroid. The tugs were guiding the cork back toward the entrance.

"What? Oh. I'd better go say good-bye to Chub."

He reached Contact almost as quickly as he had the day of the last battle. "Clara. Where's Hans?"

"He's off. We don't have anything going."

"I want to go in. They're telling me I'm going to be transferred."

"You can't. We're closed down, Moyshe. They'll be cutting power in a minute. Heck, the herd should be out of range by now."

"Clara, I probably won't ever get another chance."

"Ah, Moyshe. It's silly. But all right. Get on the couch." She prepared his scalp and the hairnet device in seconds. The helmet devoured his head almost before he could catch his breath.

He shifted to TSD, then onward.

The colors of the nebula were incredible. It was a dreary place to the eye, completely dark unless illuminated artificially. In this internal universe Moyshe could reach out and touch all the specks of it, the clouds of luminescent dust, the glowing asteroids majestically circling the nebula's center in their million-year orbits. He could even sense the protostar down in the nebula's heart, lying patiently in its time-womb, gathering the sustenance it would need to blaze for eons.

"Chub!" his mind shouted into the color storm. "Are you there? Can you hear me?"

For a time he thought there would be no answer. The herd lay far off the bounds of the nebula, beyond the pain threshold of its diminutive gravitation.

Then, "Moyshe man-friend? What is happening?"

The link was tenuous. He could barely discern the starfish's thoughts. He could not locate the creature with his inner sight.

"I came to say good-bye, Chub. They say I'm not going to be a mindtech anymore. You were right. They want me to go back to being what I was."

"Ah. I am saddened, Moyshe man-friend. I am saddened because you are sad. We have been good friends. I am pleased that you thought it important to let me know. So many linkers just disappear. Perhaps this last time we can break through those barriers, Moyshe man-friend."

But those corners of benRabi's mind would not yield.

"Moyshe." Clara's voice seemed to come from kilometers away. "They're going to shut the power off. You've got to come out."

"Farewell, Moyshe man-friend." BenRabi could feel the sadness in the starfish.

"Go softly, golden dragon," he whispered. "My heart flies with you down the long dark journey."

Chub's sadness welled up. Moyshe could not stand it. He pounded the switch beneath his left hand.

There was very little pain. He had not been under long. "I don't need it, Clara." He pushed the needle away.

"Moyshe. You're crying."

"No."

"But... "

"No. Just leave me alone."

"All right."

He heard the hurt in her voice. He struggled off of the couch, pulled her to him. "I'm sorry. Clara, I haven't known you very long. But you've been a good friend. I'll miss you. And Hans, too. Tell him to behave."

"I see that he does. He's my grandson."

"Oh. I didn't know." What had he heard about Hans's sister? Or was it mother? She had been lost with Jariel. Clara had never let on.

"There're a lot of things you don't know, Moyshe benRabi. About people. Because you never get around to asking."

"Clara... Clara, come visit. Will you?"

"Yes."

"Promise? Amy would love to meet you."

"I promise. Now get out of here before somebody calls the boss and wants to know what the hell's going on up here."