Louis Nenda’s ship was undamaged. Inside and out, every piece of equipment was in working order. The main drive showed signs of overload, but it still tested at close to full power.

“I’m sure that overload happened while they were in orbit around Quake,” Darya said. “I told you, I saw them putting in every bit of thrust they had to try and get away from that silver sphere.”

“Yeah. But you also said they were accelerated away by the sphere at hundreds of gees, enough to flatten everything.” Hans Rebka waved an arm at the orderly interior. “Nothing flat here that I can see.”

“Which is not difficult to explain.” Kallik was crouched down on the floor by the Have-It-All’s hatch, sniffing and clicking to herself. “If the ship were to be accelerated by gravity or any other form of body force, neither it nor its occupants would be harmed. They would feel as though they moved in free-fall, no matter how high the acceleration appeared to an outside observer.”

“Which should mean that if the ship is undamaged, so are Louis Nenda and Atvar H’sial.” Rebka was inspecting the main control panel. “And the engines haven’t been powered down. They’re on standby, ready to fly this minute. Which leaves us with one question.” He stared at Darya and shrugged. “Where the devil are they?”

They had searched the Have-It-All from side to side and top to bottom. There was ample evidence that Atvar H’sial and Louis Nenda had been there. But there was no sign of them, and no suits were missing from the lockers.

“Master Nenda was certainly here,” Kallik said, “more than three days ago, and less than one week.”

“How do you know?”

“I can smell him. In his quarters, at the controls, and here near the hatch. J’merlia, if he were here, could place the time more accurately. He has a finer sense of smell.”

“I don’t see how that would help us. Not even if J’merlia could smell it to the millisecond.” Rebka was walking moodily around the big cabin, examining the decorated wall panels and running his fingers across the luxurious fittings. “Darya, I know you said that the sphere that carried this ship away was silver at first, then it turned to black—”

“Turned to nothing, I said. It was like a hole in space.”

“All right, turned to nothing. But couldn’t it have changed again? One odd thing about this place — wha’d’ya call it, Glister? — is that it’s a perfect sphere. Spherical planetoids don’t occur in nature. Hasn’t it occurred to you that it may be the same sphere, the one that you saw?”

“Of course I’ve had that thought. I had it before we even landed. But it only leaves a bigger mystery. Something sent a beam from near Gargantua, at Summertide, and the sphere that I saw ascended it. If this sphere was my sphere, what sent the signal?”

“All right, so maybe this isn’t your sphere.” Rebka seemed amused by her proprietary tone. “I’ll drop that, and ask you again: Where are they?”

“Give me a minute. I may have a logical answer; whether or not you like it is another matter.” Darya sat down on one of Nenda’s comfortable couches to organize her thoughts. As she did so she surveyed her surroundings, comparing them with the familiar, stripped-down, and spartan fixtures of the Dreamboat.

The contrast was great. The whole inside of Nenda’s starship was filled with alien devices and manufacturing techniques. The technology used here had been perfected long before by the Zardalu, before their thousand-world empire had collapsed, and been picked up piecemeal after that collapse to become the common property of the mix of species that now made up the Zardalu Communion.

But even more than it spoke of alien technology, the Have-It-All proclaimed another message: that of wealth.

Darya had never seen such opulence — and she was from a rich world. If Louis Nenda was a criminal, as everyone seemed to think, then crime certainly paid.

In one other area, her first view of the interior of Nenda’s ship was forcing a change in Darya’s thinking. She had first met Kallik on Opal and on Quake, and had seen her then as a callously treated under-being, little better than a shackled and servile pet of the Karelian human, Louis Nenda. But Kallik’s quarters on the Have-It-All were as good as Nenda’s own, and far better than anyone enjoyed in the worlds of the Phemus Circle. Kallik had her own study, equipped with powerful computers and scientific instruments. She had her own sleeping area, decorated with choice and expensive examples of Hymenopt art.

Even villains deserved justice. Darya filed that thought away for future reference. Nenda might act the monster — might be a monster — but his generous private treatment of Kallik was at variance with his public image. Nenda had certainly been crude, lecherous, coarse, and boorish with Darya. But was that the real Louis Nenda, or was it a pose?

“Well?” Hans Rebka was staring at her impatiently. Darya came back to the present with a jerk and realized that her thoughts had strayed off in a quite unexpected and inappropriate direction.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Point one: Nenda and Atvar H’sial were alive when the ship got here. Kallik is sure of that. Point two: There are no suits missing. Point Three: The air on the surface of this planetoid is breathable. Point four — not proved, but a good working assumption: This planetoid is hollow. Point five — another working hypothesis: The inside of Glister contains the same sort of air as there is on the surface. Put them together: if Louis Nenda and Atvar H’sial are still alive — or even if they’re dead — we know where they can be found.” She pointed at the floor.

“Inside Glister.” Rebka was frowning. “That’s what I decided, too, while you were sitting there daydreaming. I don’t much like that idea.”

“I never said you would.”

“It gives us another problem.”

“I know. To see if we’re right, we have to get inside. And we haven’t seen any sign of an opening or a hatch.”

“On the descent, we certainly didn’t.” Rebka sat down in the control chair. “But that’s not surprising — we had other things on our minds. There could be ways in just a hundred meters away, or there could be openings around the other side that we’ve never seen.”

“And we won’t find them sitting here.” Darya stood up. She was full of an irrational energy. “You know what? I want to find Nenda and Atvar H’sial, and spit in their eye for trying to kill us on Quake. But even if they didn’t exist, I’d want to find a way to the interior. And so would you. You pretend you’re not interested in Builder artifacts, but you’re the man who was all ready to risk a descent into Paradox, before you were sent to Dobelle. And this is an artifact. I’ve studied all twelve hundred and thirty-six of them, and I’m sure of it. Come on, let’s take a look outside.” Darya placed her hand on the control that would move her suit from full open to closed mode, then paused. “The air out there is supposed to be breathable. I might as well test it a little. Keep your eye on me.”

She headed for the lock, expecting to hear Rebka’s voice ordering her to stop. Instead he said in an amused tone, “I swear, if it isn’t one of you wanting to run off and do something crazy, it’s the other. Wait for me.”

“And me,” Kallik said.

“And don’t worry about the air,” Rebka added. “After the analysis was finished and came out positive I put my suit on partial transparency. Glister’s atmosphere is fine.”

“And you call me crazy.” Darya stepped through into the lock.

In the time they had been inside Nenda’s ship, Glister had made a quarter-turn on its axis. Gargantua was visible as a half-disk, while Mandel and Amaranth were hidden behind the planetoid. Darya emerged to an overhead dazzle of orbiting fragments and a cold, orange twilight. The air was odorless, tasteless, and chilly in her nose and lungs. Her breath showed as a puff of white fog when she exhaled.