"Are you going to be okay, Trud?"

Silipan gave a frightened little shrug and chivied them out of the clinic. "Get on back to the temp—and don't let Vinh come after his ziphead." Then he turned and followed Reynolt.

Pham and Vinh hiked up from the depths of Hammerfest, alone except for the certain presence of Brughel's snoops. The Vinh boy was quiet. In a way, today had been the biggest kick in the face he had suffered in years, maybe since Jimmy Diem's death. For an n-times-removed descendant, Ezr Vinh had a face that was entirely too familiar. He reminded Pham of Ratko Vinh when Ratko was young; he had a lot of Sura's face. That was not a pleasant thought.Maybe my subconcious is trying to tell me something....Yes. Not just in the clinic, but all this Watch. Every so often the kid would look at him...and the look was more of calculation than contempt. Pham thought back, trying to remember just how his Trinli character had behaved. Certainly it was a risk to be so interested in Focus. But he had Trud's scams as a cover for that. No, even while they were standing in the clinic and Pham's mind had been totally concentrated on Reynolt and the Bonsol mystery—even then he was sure he hadn't looked anything but mildly dazed, an old charlatan worried that this debacle would mess up the deals he and Trud had planned. Yet somehow this Vinh had seen through him. How? And what to do about it?

They came out of the main vertical corridor, and started down the ramp to the taxi locks. The Focused murals were everywhere, ceilings, walls, floors. In places, the diamond walls had been planed thin. Blue light—the light of full Arachna—came softly through the crystal, darker or lighter depending on the depth of the carving. Because Arachna was always in full phase from L1 and the rockpile was kept in a fixed phase relative to the sun, the light had been steady for years. There might have been a time when Pham Nuwen would have fallen in love with that art, but now he knew how it had been made. Watch after Watch, he and Trud Silipan would come down this ramp and see workers, carving. Nau and Brughel had pissed away the lifetimes of nonacademic zipheads to make this art. Pham guessed that at least two had died of old age. The survivors were gone now, too, perhaps finishing the carvings on lesser corridors.After I take over, thingswill be different. Focus was such a terrible thing. It must never be used except for the most critical needs.

They passed a side corridor paneled in tank-grown wood. The grain swirled smoothly, following the curve of the corridor that led downward to Tomas Nau's private quarters.

And there was Qiwi Lin Lisolet. Maybe she had heard them coming. More likely she had seen their departure from the clinic. Either way, she had been waiting long enough that she stood with feet on the floor, as if in normal planetary gravity.

"Ezr, please. Can we talk, just for a moment? I never meant these shows to hurt—"

Vinh had been drifting ahead of Pham, silently pulling himself along. His head snapped up when he saw Qiwi. For an instant it seemed he might float on by her. Then she spoke. Vinh pushed hard against the wall, diving fast and directly toward her. The action was as bluntly hostile as swinging a fist at another's face.

"Here now!" Pham blustered, and forced himself to hang back in seeming impotence. He'd already waylaid the fellow once today, and this time the scene would be quite clear to the snoops. Besides, Pham had watched Qiwi work outside. She was in better condition than anyone at L1, and a natural acrobat. Maybe it would do Vinh some good to learn he couldn't off-load his anger on her.

But Qiwi didn't defend, didn't even flinch. Vinh twisted, delivering a powerful, openhanded slap that sent them spinning apart. "Yes, we'll talk!" Vinh's voice was ragged. He bounced after her and he slapped her again. And again Qiwi didn't defend, didn't even raise her hands to shield her face.

And Pham Nuwen pushed forward before he'd really thought. Something in the back of his mind was laughing at him for risking years of masquerade just to protect one innocent. But that same something also cheered.

Pham's dive turned into an apparently uncontrolled spin, one that just accidentally slammed his shoulder into Vinh's gut and smashed the younger man into the wall. Out of sight of any camera, Pham gave his opponent a piece of elbow. An instant after the impact, the back of Vinh's head smacked against the wall. If they had still been down in the carved diamond corridors, that might have caused serious injury. As it was, when Vinh came off the wall, his arms were flailing weakly. Little droplets of blood sprouted up from the back of his head.

"Pick on someone your own size, Vinh! Cowardly, scummy piece of vermin. You Great Family Traders are all alike." Pham's rage was real—but it was also rage against himself, for risking his cover.

The wits slowly percolated back into Vinh's eyes. He glanced at Qiwi, four meters down the hallway. The girl looked back, her expression a strange combination of shock and determination. And then Vinh looked at Pham, and the old man felt a chill. Maybe Brughel's cameras hadn't caught all the details of the fight, but the kid knew how calculated Pham's assault had been. For an instant the two stared at each other, and then Vinh shrugged free of his grasp and scooted back down the ramp toward the taxi locks. It was the scuttling retreat of a shamed and beaten man. But Pham had seen the look in his eyes; something would have to be done about Ezr Vinh.

Qiwi started after Vinh, but dragged herself to a stop before she had gone ten meters. She floated in the of the corridors, staring off in the direction Vinh had gone.

Pham came near. He knew he had to get out of here. No doubt several cameras were watching him now, and he was just no good at staying in character around Qiwi. So what to say that would get him safely gone? "Don't worry, kid. Vinh is just not worth it. He won't bother you again; I guarantee it."

After a moment, the girl turned to face him. Lord, she looked so much like her mother; Nau had been running her nearly Watch-on-Watch. There were tears in her eyes. He couldn't see any cuts or blood, but bruises were beginning to show on her dark skin. "I really didn't meant to hurt him. God, I don't know what I'll do if Trixia d-dies." Qiwi brushed back her close-cut black hair. Grown-up or not, she looked as lost as during the first days after the Diem "atrocity." She was so alone she would confide in a windbag like Pham Trinli. "When...when I was little, I admired Ezr Vinh more than anyone in the universe, except my parents." She glanced at Pham; her smile was tremulous and hurt. "I wanted so much for him to think well of me. And then the Emergents attacked us, and then Jimmy Diem killed my mother and all the others....We are all in a very small lifeboat. We can't have any more killing." She gave her head a sharp little shake. "Did you know that Tomas has not used coldsleep since the Diem massacre? He's lived every second of all these years. Tomas is so serious, so hardworking. He believes in Focus, but he's open to new ways of doing things." She was telling him what she had wanted to tell Ezr. "Benny's parlor wouldn't exist without Tomas. None of the trading and bonsai would exist. Little by little we are making the Emergents understand our ways. Someday, Tomas will be able to release my father and Trixia and all the Focused. Someday—"

Pham wanted to reach out and comfort her. Pham Nuwen might be the only living person besides the murderers who knew what had really happened to Jimmy Diem, and who knew what Nau and Brughel were doing with Qiwi Lin Lisolet. He should give her a gruff brush-off and leave, but somehow he couldn't do that. Instead he hung in place, looking embarrassed and confused.Yes. Someday. Someday, child, you will be avenged.