"Already spoke to him," said Dimak. "I've keyed the guidebars to lead you to the security department."

It was on the top level, with the lowest gravity-which made sense, because if security action were required, officers dispersing from the main office would have a downhill trip to wherever they were going.

When they stepped inside the office, Major Uphanad was there to greet them. He offered his hand to all of them.

"Are you from India?" asked Mother, "or Pakistan?"

"India," said Uphanad, not breaking his smile at all.

"I'm so sorry for your country, said Mother.

"I haven't been back there since-in a long time."

"I hope your family is faring welt under the Chinese occupation."

"Thank you for your concern," said Uphanad, in a tone of voice that made it clear this topic was finished.

He offered them chairs and sat down himself-behind his desk, taking full advantage of his official position. Peter resented it a little, since he had spent a good while now as the man who was always in the dominant place. He might not have had much actual power, as Hegemon, but protocol always gave him the highest place.

But he was not supposed to be known here. So he could hardly be treated differently from any civilian visitor.

"I know that you are particular guests of the Minister," said Uphanad, "and that you wish your privacy to be undisturbed. What we need to discuss is the boundary of your privacy. Are your faces likely to be recognized?"

"Possibly," said Peter. "Especially his." He pointed to his father. This was a lie, of course, and probably futile, but.

"Ah," said Uphanad. "And I assume your real names would be recognized."

"Likely," said Father.

"Certainly," said Mother, as if she were proud of the fact and rather miffed that he had cast any doubt on it at all.

"So... should meals be brought to you? Do we need to clear the corridors when you go to the bathroom?"

Sounded like a nightmare to Peter.

"Major Uphanad, we don't want to advertise our presence here, but I'm sure your staff can be trusted to be discreet."

"On the contrary," said Uphanad. "Discreet people make it a point not to take the staff's loyalty for granted."

"Including yours?" asked Mother sweetly.

"Since you have already lied to me repeatedly," said Uphanad. "I think it safe to say that you are taking no one's loyalty for granted."

"Nevertheless," said Peter, "I'm not going to stay cooped up in that tube. I'd like to be able to use your library-I'm assuming you have one-and we can take our meals in the mess hall and use the toilet without inconveniencing others."

"There, you see?" said Uphanad. "You are simply not security minded."

"We can't live here as prisoners," said Peter.

"He didn't mean that," said Father. "He was talking about the way you simply announced the decision for the three of us. So much for me being the one most likely to be recognized."

Uphanad smiled. "The recognition problem is a real one," he said. "I knew you at once, from the vids, Mr Hegemon."

Peter sighed and leaned back.

"Your face is not as recognizable as if you were an actual politician," said Uphanad. "They thrive on putting their faces before the public. Your career began, if I remember correctly, in anonymity."

"But I've been on the vids," said Peter.

"Listen," said Uphanad. "Few on our staff even watch the vids. I happen to be a news addict, but most people here have rather cut their ties with the gossip of Earth. I think your best way to remain under cover here is to behave as if you had nothing to hide. Be a bit standoffish-don't get into conversations with people that lead to mutual explanations of what you do and who you are, for instance. But if you're cheerful and don't act mysterious, you should be fine. People won't expect to see the Hegemon living with his parents in one of the bunk rooms here." Uphanad grinned. "It will be our little secret, the six of us."

Peter did the count. Him, his parents, Uphanad, Dimak. and... oh, Graff, of course.

"I think there will be no assassination attempt here," said Uphanad, "because there are very few weapons on board, all are kept under lock and key, and everybody coming up here is scanned for weaponry. So I suggest you not attempt to carry sidearms. You are trained in hand-to-hand combat?"

"No," said Peter.

"There is a gym on the bottom level, very well equipped. And not just with childsize devices, either. The adults also need to stay fit. You should use the facility to maintain your bone mass, and so forth, but also we can arrange martial arts classes for you, if you're interested."

"I'm not interested," said Peter. "But it sounds like a good idea."

"Anyone they send against us, though," said Mother, "will be very much better trained in it than we will."

"Perhaps so, perhaps not," said Uphanad. "If your enemies attempt to get to you here, they will have to rely on someone they can get through our screening. People who seem particularly athletic are subjected to special scrutiny. We are, you see, paranoid about one of the anti-colonization groups getting someone up here just to perform an act of sabotage or terrorism."

"Or assassination."

"You see?" said Uphanad. "But I assure you I and my staff are very thorough. We never leave anything unchecked."

"In other words, you knew who we were before we walked in the door."

"Before your shuttle took off, actually," said Uphanad. "Or at least I had a fairly good guess."

They said their good-byes, then settled into the routine of life in a space station.

Day and night were kept on Greenwich time, for no particular reason but that it was at zero longitude and they had to pick some time. Peter found that his parents were not so awfully intrusive as he had feared, and he was relieved that he could not hear their lovemaking or their conversations about him through the divider

What he did, mostly, was go to the library and write.

Essays, of course, on everything, for every conceivable forum. There were plenty of publications that were happy to have pieces from Locke or Demosthenes, especially now that everyone knew these identities belonged to the Hegemon. With most serious work appearing first on the nets, there was no way to target particular audiences. But he still talked about subjects that would have particular interest in various regions.

The aim of everything he wrote was to fan the flames of suspicion of China and Chinese ambitions. As Demosthenes, he wrote quite directly about the danger of allowing the conquest of India and Indochina to stand, with a lot of who's-next rhetoric. Of course he couldn't stoop to any serious rabble-rousing, because every word he said would be held against the Hegemon.

Life was so much easier when he was anonymous on the nets.

As Locke, however, he wrote statesmanlike, impartial essays about problems that different nations and regions were facing. "Locke" almost never wrote against China directly, but rather took it for granted that there would be another invasion, and that longterm investments in probable target countries might be unwise, that sort of thing.

It was hard work, because every essay had to be made interesting, original, important, or no one would pay attention to it. He had to make sure he never sounded like someone riding a hobby horse- rather the way Father had sounded when he started spouting off about his theories of group loyalty and character to Dimak. Though, to be fair, he'd never heard Father do that before, it still gave him pause and made him realize how easily Locke and Demosthenes-and therefore Peter Wiggin himself-could become at first an irritant, at last a laughingstock.

Father called this process stassenization and made various suggestions for essay topics, some of which Peter used. As to what Father and Mother did with their days, when they weren't reading his essays and commenting on them, catching errors, that sort of thing-well, Peter had no idea.