Something in the corner was rolling around belching fire and heat and the cloying odor of kerosene. Suddenly Venera realized that it was the black racing bike she had Griffin flying, and every-thing came together for her.

"You came through the window?" Mahallan grinned tightly. "It was his idea." A chaos of screaming men and clashing swords surrounded her. Venera was standing at the pivot-point of an actual sword fight, not one of those staged duels from her father's house that ended in a scratched cheek. Men were dying. For some reason she was shaking, which hadn't happened even when she shot the captain of the Rook. "How are we getting out of here?" she asked Mahallan. "Climb out the window and jump off the town? Then we're in the city, I guess we could fly back to the ships…" But Mahallan was shaking her head.

"We'd be easy targets in the open air," she said. "We have to get a vehicle."

"There." Venera pointed at the rattling, smoking bike. "Not sure we can get it up to the window," said Mahallan, "and anyway, it'll only carry three."

Venera pressed her hand. "I'm sure you can hold them off long enough for Chaison and me to escape."

The armorer stared at her. "I'm going to assume that you're joking."

"Sometimes I don't know myself." Just then a wall of Rook officers reared into view out of the dust. They were being forced back by a mass of men pouring in from the opened doors at the far end of the ballroom. The Slipstreamers were already outnumbered three to one and it was just going to get worse.

"This is hopeless!" shouted the handsome one,Travis. His sword was bloody and his hair matted to his forehead. "There's a whole army coming the way we need to go."

"We need to clear that hallway," said Chaison. "Oh, for a rocket."

"How about a jet?" It was Hayden Griffin, appearing again out of the dust. This time his face was in shadow and he looked savage with his sword and ripped leathers.

He ran to the corner and dodged the angry lunges of the downed bike until he could grab its handlebars. Then he was in its saddle, feet skidding across the floor as he tried to manhandle it into submission. "Out of the way!" he screamed. Travis turned, yelled, and grabbed the shoulder of the man next to him. They hit the floor exposing several startled Gehellen swordsmen.

"Aerie!" That wasn't the battle cry Venera had expected but she didn't care—the vision of Griffin opening the throttle all the way and shooting across the ballroom in a shower of sparks would stay with her for the rest of her life. Men flew through the air but the bike continued to accelerate as it crossed the hall. Venera screamed something that was half cheer, half obscenity, and reached for an enemy sword that had fallen at her feet. Travis and the other Rook officers were also screaming as they poured into the breach Griffin had made in the enemy's line.

The building shook to a deep whoomp! and a flash of light pierced the corridor down which the bike had shot. Mahallan gave a shriek and Venera thought, So much for my driver. But no, when they entered the corridor in a knot of Rook officers it was to find Hayden Griffin lying among the soldiers he had knocked aside. He levered himself to his feet as Venera placed the tip of her sword against the throat of an enemy who had the temerity to try to do the same. "Stay there," she said to the man cheerfully.

"Jumped off the bike when it cleared the doors," Griffin was saying to Mahallan. "Come on." He limped ahead. Mahallan just stood there for a moment, hands to her face.

Venera clapped her on the shoulder. "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's kill some men."

To her surprise Mahallan laughed and readied her pistol. "Yes!" They ran after the officers.

The end of the corridor was a mass of flame; the bike's kerosene tank had burst. Behind the flames cursing soldiers waited. Several fired random shots and one of the Slipstreamers went down with a bullet to the neck. Meanwhile Travis was vigorously kicking down the paneled sidewall a few feet from the fire. "This way!"

They piled into what looked like a servants' corridor. Chaison indicated left with his sword. "But that's where the soldiers are coming from!"Venera objected.

"It's the way to the entrance," he said. "I'm not about to end the day with my back to a wall." He ran in that direction without waiting for an answer.

Startled servants jumped out of the way; they were almost comical with their stiltlike legs and frightened looks. Venera felt powerful and alive, galvanized by the knowledge that she was probably going to the here. For the moment, following her husband through shouting and screams, she didn't care.

HE ONLY HAD time for quick glances as they ran, but what Hayden saw of the Gehellen's servants' rooms was strange and disturbing. There were pulley systems that people raised gravity-free could use to glide from room to room. They passed one nine-foot man—who couldn't have weighed more than one hundred fifty pounds-dangling helplessly from one of these, weak feet scuffing the floor frantically as he tried to get out of the way. Nobody hurt him. There were lots of rolling carts, crutches and soft seats, and most of the side rooms had big tanks of water in which men and women floated, exhausted, during their infrequent duty breaks.

"It's like a fucking hospital," muttered Travis as they passed a group of servants who cowered on their cots.

Gunfire ripped at them from up ahead. "They've blocked us," said Fanning with no trace of surprise.

Somebody cursed colorfully. Hayden turned to see an elaborately dressed man with a wine-stain birthmark gesturing from a side door. "This way, you fools!"

Fanning raised an eyebrow. "Well, follow the man," he directed. This man, a dignitary of some sort, had circled around through unknown means and now held open a door to the palace's formal spaces. Hayden found himself in a huge atrium with curving staircases sweeping up to either side. The portraits on the wall were double or triple life-sized. Fanciful beasts were carved into the banister posts. There was distant shouting, but so far no enemy feet had disturbed the deep red pile carpet. "Don't stand there gawking, up, up!" raged the dignitary. As he followed the mob of officers he added, "You might have thought to ask directions from the one man among you who's familiar with the layout of this place."

"Thought you were dead, Reiss," said Fanning with a shrug. "In there!" Hayden allowed himself to be herded through a stout-framed door in the cavernous upstairs hallway. This brought him into a tall galleried library whose far wall was entirely composed of beveled-glass windows. There was only one other door and immediately some men ran to secure it. "Now where?" Fanning asked Reiss.

While the two talked and gestured, Hayden sought out Aubri. She was standing with Venera Fanning, who looked calm and composed as always. "Are you all right?"

Aubri nodded. "I honestly didn't think that window-crashing tiling was going to work."

"I only did it because you didn't tell me not to. You're the technical one! I assumed you'd have said something."

"Oh."

Venera laughed. "You have to tell me how all of this came about."

Hayden was distracted by nearby shouting. Fanning was yelling at Reiss. "But we've got to keep moving!"

The ambassador stood his ground. "Admiral, sooner or later, we're going to have to jump off this town. There is no way to get to the docks. This library juts out from the edge of the wheel; it's the best jumping-off point."

"Trapped!" One of the men at the far door waved. "They're coming this way in force."

"This way too!"

"Well, that's just splendid," muttered Fanning.

"Richard, what is going on here?"

All conversation stopped for a moment. Two richly dressed women, unnoticed until now, stood with fans in their hands in the center of the room. When Reiss saw them he blanched (wine stain momentarily fading) and stammered, "L-Lady Dristow, what a surprise! I, I mean—"