— 55 —

Amber Soul ate ravenously for three days. Then they grabbed the first ship out to the Barbican. Turtle spent the time aboard explaining what had happened, where they were, and what they had to do to get away. Then he explained again. Then he zeroed in on the gray areas where she did not comprehend. Then he just hoped for the best.

And there was the thing she wanted to hear over and over again. "Your race inhabits a system called M. Meddinia, the fourth planet, a Closed Treaty World. Your people don't leave there often. Nobody could figure how you got to Merod Schene."

Then she would want to hear all about the member of her race who had been on the Cholot Traveler. He could tell her nothing but the name: Seeker of the Lost Children.

The passage to the Barbican was easy. The Deified managing the ship noticed nothing. The transfer to a Horigawa Hauler was more difficult, but Amber Soul covered them perfectly.

But they did register on several intruder sensors and got STASIS and a few technicians grumbling about ghosts and glitches.

The journey in the belly of the Hauler was as easy as the first leg. Running empty, the crew had no cause to check the holds.

Midnight became the problem. Her nerves were not up to this. Turtle had to keep calming her. "One more leg and we're safe. Two at the most. We go off the Horigawa onto some other Hauler. Get off that at a station down the Web and just disappear. Maybe find a phantom and make a move just to get thoroughly lost. They can't turn over the whole universe looking for us."

"But where are we going to go? What are we going to do? We don't have any documentation. We don't have any credit."

For Turtle, with his timeless perspective, those were not problems. Given ten years he could develop either anywhere. He had done it often before going inert in Merod Schene.

They might not turn over the universe, but WarAvocat would alert STASIS and Canon garrisons everywhere. He represented a real threat now. He had to go to ground fast.

Where? That would be determined more by Midnight and Amber Soul than by his own desires. He thought of heading Yon. There were Ku Outside. But that was too far. He thought of Amber Soul's homeworld. But the Guardships would suffer no qualms seeking him there, treaty or no.

The Horigawa Hauler left the Web at the obscure, planetless system N. Kellrica. It meant to collect transhipped luxury goods destined for the Barbican.

Midnight told Turtle, "Amber Soul doesn't want to leave."

"We have to get off here. This is a very minor nexus station. Perfect for losing our trail. Security will be feeble."

"There's something here that scares her."

"There is something about them all that will frighten us. We're fugitives, Midnight. They will hunt us. We do not have the option of choosing which fears we want to face. Tell her to come on."

Amber Soul came. In a state approaching petrification. Had security not been nonexistent, Turtle would not have gotten her off the Hauler let alone all the way around station to the only other vessel docked, the Sveldrov Traveler Gregor Forgotten.

He had not counted on finding himself with no options but one. From what he overheard along the docks, though, it was a bad season for the old station. There might be no other ship in for months. He could not turn back. The Horigawa Hauler had departed.

A Hauler would have been preferable. A Traveler was more difficult to hide aboard.

Amber Soul did not want to board. Turtle could make no sense of her objections. Midnight shrugged. "She doesn't understand herself. She says she doesn't remember, but it's evil. She's been there before. Something like that."

"Damn! We have no choice. Unless we're ready to sit here till VII Gemina comes. She doesn't want to go back there, does she?"

"No."

"Then we have to do this. And she has to hide us while we're aboard."

Amber Soul managed. But her mental state continued to deteriorate. Her thoughts, that leaked over at times, were flooded with terror and misty memories of something terrible long ago.

Something was very wrong. Amber Soul walked the edge of madness, continuously terrified. Still she could not explain. But it was that Traveler. That specific Traveler.

Midnight fell into a bleak mood of her own. She had begun to suffer because of her design specs. It had been too long since she had seen a man.

Turtle could lead neither out of shadow.

He began to suspect that there was indeed something sinister about the Traveler. Yet the passage began with promise. The crew remained unaware that they had been joined by unregistered companions. Till Amber Soul went into a sudden paranoid frenzy that ended with one of her psychic screams.

In her last moment of consciousness, she sent mind pictures of things writhing and people screaming for mercy where there was none while shadows murdered them brutally.

It made no sense, but it felt real, like something Amber Soul actually had seen.

Turtle understood only that because of the outburst he was not going to get away.

— 56 —

Chief Timmerbach released the final coupling. Centripedal force eased Glorious Spent away from M. Carterii 4A. He had little to do. So he worried.

Had the Majhellain techs been thorough? Should he go ahead and incarcerate Hanhl Cholot? Should he backtrack and try to brownnose that prick Haget into letting him off?

Nova light.

"Guardship breaking off the Web," some genius said.

"Bet I could have figured that out for myself."

A less confident voice announced, "Chief, that's our old buddy IV Trajana."

Timmerbach's stomach went into freefall. He stepped to nav comp and brought up back course data. "Shit."

Hanhl Cholot—or whatever—said, "Take us back to dock, Chief."

"Like hell. I'm not dragging anybody else across their sights."

"That's an order, Chief. If you won't execute it, I'll replace you with someone who will."

"I doubt it." Timmerbach's bridge people continued turning the Traveler, laying it into the groove headed toward the Web.

Cholot started to bluster.

Timmerbach said, "Master-at-Arms."

A hard-looking woman approached Cholot. "To your stateroom, sir." She showed him a pacifier.

"Hey, Chief. Check this."

Timmerbach turned away as Cholot walked out ahead of the Master-at-Arms. "What?"

"Pair of fighters off the Guardship headed this way like they want to see if you can burn holes in vacuum."

Timmerbach sighed and slumped into his command chair. He had no reserves left. He was accursed, and he accepted it. He wanted to go to sleep and shut the universe out.

But he could not. He had an obligation to passengers and crew and House. He kept Glorious Spent in the groove, headed for the Web.

He understood why IV Trajana was here. Web geometry. The strands they had taken leaving that anchor point converged again here. That bastard Haget had seen that. He must have deadmanned the Traveler. "Should have known better. You can't beat them."

The fighters spread out. Timmerbach's last hope vanished as they began curving in. One took station ahead. The other came in on his quarter in firing attitude, snapped three sudden shots that scrubbed three Web tractor vanes. Glorious Spent could not run away.

"Guess that's a message, eh? All right. Guide on that lead fighter."

What the hell could he do? How was he going to deal with this? IV Trajana was not VII Gemina.

The fighter guided him straight to the Guardship, to an empty rider bay. The Guardship grabbed hold. It began accelerating, headed for the strand leading back the way the Traveler had come.

Warning lights flared. Main cargo hatch gave way. Timmerbach heard noises in the passageway. He faced the hatchway.