Qiwi took in the configuration with practiced eyes, even as her mind considered the much more treacherous problems of political intrigue. Ritser Brughel's private domain, the old QHSInvisible Hand, was outward from the pile, less than two thousand meters from her taxi; she would pass less than fifteen hundred meters from its throat.Hmm. So, what if Ritser had kidnapped Luan Peres? That would be his boldest move ever against Tomas.And maybe it's not the only thing. If Ritser could get away with this, there might be other deaths.Ezr.

Qiwi took a deep breath.Just take one problem at a time. So: SupposeFloria is right and Luan still lives, a toy in Ritser's private space? There were limits to how fast Tomas could act against another Podmaster. If she complained, and there was any delay at all, Luan might die for real—and all the evidence could just...disappear.

Qiwi turned in her seat, got a naked-eye view of theHand. She was less than seventeen hundred meters out now. It might be days before she could wangle a configuration this slick. The starship's stubby form was so close that she could see the emergency repair welds, and the blistering where X-ray fire had struck the ramscoop's projection flange. Qiwi knew the architecture of theInvisible Hand about as well as anyone at L1; she had lived on that ship through years of the voyage here, had used it as her hands-on example of every ship topic in her schooling. She knew its blind spots....More important, she had Podmaster-level access. It was just one of the many things that Tomas trusted her with. Until now she had never used it so, um, provocatively, but—

Qiwi's hands were moving even before she finished rationalizing her scheme. She keyed in her personal crypto link to Tomas, and spoke quickly, outlining what she had learned and what she suspected—and what she planned to do. She squirted the message off, delivery contingent on a deadman condition. Now Tomas would know no matter what, and she would have something to threaten Ritser with if he caught her.

Sixteen hundred meters from theInvisible Hand. Qiwi pulled down her coverall hood, and cycled the taxi's atmosphere. Her intuition and her huds agreed on the jump path she must follow, the trajectory that would take her down theHand 's throat, in the ship's blind spot all the way. She popped the taxi's hatch, waited till her acrobatic instinct saidgo —and leaped into the emptiness.

• • •

Qiwi finger-walked down theHand 's empty freight hold. Using a combination of Tomas's authority and her own special knowledge of the ship's architecture, she had reached the level of the living quarters without tripping any audible alarms. Every few meters, Qiwi put her ear to the wall, and simply listened. She was so close to on-Watch country that she could hear other people. Things sounded very ordinary, no sudden movement, no anxious talk....Hmm.That sounded like someone crying.

Qiwi moved faster, feeling something like the giddy anger of her long-ago confrontation with Ritser Brughel—only now she had more sense, and was correspondingly more afraid. During their common Watches since that time in the park, she had often felt Ritser's eyes upon her. She had always expected that there would be another confrontaion. As much as it was to honor her mother's memory, Qiwi's fanatical gym work—all the martial arts—was intended as insurance against Ritser and his steel baton.Lot ofgood it will do, if he pots me with a wire gun. But Ritser was such an idiot, he'd never kill her like that; he'd want to gloat. Today, if it came to it, she'd have time to threaten him with the message she'd left Tomas. She pushed down her fear, and moved closer to the sound of weeping.

Qiwi hovered over an access hatch. Suddenly her shoulders and arms were tense. Strange, random thoughts skittered through her mind.I willremember. I will remember. Freaky craziness.

Beyond this point, her only invisibility would be in her Podmaster passkey. Very likely that would not be enough.But I just need a few seconds. Qiwi checked her recorder and data link one last time...and slipped through the hatch, into a crew corridor.

Lord.For a moment, Qiwi just stared in astonishment. The corridor was the size that she remembered. Ten meters farther on, it curved right, toward the Captain's living quarters. But Ritser had pasted wallpaper on all four walls, and the pictures were a kind of swirling pink. The air stank of animal musk. This was a different universe from theInvisible Hand that she had known. She grasped wildly at her courage, and moved slowly up the hallway. Now there was music ahead, at least thethump thump thump of percussion. Somebody was singing...sharp, barking screams, in time with the beat.

Like they had a life of their own, her shoulders cramped tight, aching to bounce off the wall and race back the way she had come.Do I need anymore proof? Yes. Just a look at the data system with a local override. That would mean more than any number of hysterical stories about Ritser's choice of video and music.

Door by door, she moved up the corridor. These had been staff officer quarters, but used by the Watch crew on the voyage from Triland. She had lived in the second room from the end for three years—and she really didn't want to know what that looked like now. The Captain's planning room was just beyond the bend. She flicked her passkey at the lock, and the door slid open. Inside...this was no planning room. It looked like a cross between a gym and a bedroom. And the walls were again covered with video wallpaper. Qiwi pulled herself over a strange, gauntleted rack and settled down, out of sight of the doorway. She touched her huds, asked for a local override connection to the ship's net. There was a pause as her location and authorization were checked, and then she was looking at names and dates and pictures.Yes! Ol' Ritser was running his own small-scale coldsleep business right here on theInvisible Hand. Luan Peres was listed...andhere she was listed as living, on-Watch!

That's enough; time to get out of this madhouse.But Qiwi hesitated an instant longer. There were so many names here, familiar names and faces from long ago. Little death glyphs sat by each picture. She had been a child when she last saw these people, but not like this...these faces were variously sullen, sleeping, terribly bruised or burned. The living, the dead, the beaten, the fiercely resisting.This is from before Jimmy Diem. She knew there had been interrogations, a period of many Ksecs between the fighting and the resumption of Watches, but...Qiwi felt a numb horror spreading up from the pit of her stomach. She paged through the names. Kira Pen Lisolet. Mama. A bruised face, the eyes staring steadily back at her.Whatdid Ritser do to you? How could Tomas not know? She wasn't really conscious of following the data links from that picture, but suddenly her huds were running an immersion video. The room was the same, but filled with the sights and sounds of long ago. As if from the other side of the rack, there came the sound of panting and moaning. Qiwi slid to the side and the vision tracked with near perfection. Around the corner of the rack, she came face-to-face with...Tomas Nau. A younger Tomas Nau. Out of sight, beyond the edge of the rack, he seemed to be thrusting from his hips. The look on his face was the sort of ecstatic pleasure that Qiwi had seen in his face so many times, the look he had when they could finally be alone and he could come in her. But this Tomas of years ago held a tiny, red-splattered knife. He leaned forward, out of sight, leaned down on someone whose moans changed to a shrill scream. Qiwi pulled herself over the edge of the rack and looked straight down at the true past, at the woman Nau was cutting.

"Mama!"The past didn't notice her cry; Nau continued his business. Qiwi doubled up on herself, spewing vomit across the rack and beyond. She couldn't see them anymore, but the sounds of the past continued, as if they were happening just on the other side of the rack. Even as her stomach emptied, she tore the huds from her face, threw them wildly away. She choked and gagged; gibbering horror was in charge of her reflexes.