Gurgeh looked up at it, mouth open. He resisted the urge to jump up. "Is that it?" he said.

The small machine stopped a couple of metres up. "That's all I'm allowed to talk about. I've asked you what I was supposed to ask you. Now I report back. Why, is there anything else you would like to know I might be able to help you with?"

"Yes," Gurgeh said, annoyed now. "Do I get to hear anything else about whatever and wherever it is you're talking about?"

The machine seemed to waver in the air. Its fields hadn't changed since its arrival. Eventually, it said, "Jernau Gurgeh?"

There was a long moment when they were both silent. Gurgeh stared at the machine, then stood up, put both hands on his hips and his head to one side and shouted, "Yes?"

"…. Probably not," the drone snapped, and instantly rose straight up, fields flicking off. He heard the roaring noise and saw the vapour-trail form; it was a single tiny cloud at first because he was right underneath it, then it lengthened slowly for a few seconds, before suddenly ceasing to grow. He shook his head.

He took out the pocket terminal. "House," he said. "Raise that drone." He continued to stare into the sky.

"Which drone, Jernau?" the house said. "Chamlis?"

He stared at the terminal. "No! That little scumbag from Contact; Loash Armasco-Iap Wu-Handrahen Xato Koum, that's who! The one that was just here!"

"Just here?" the house said, in its Puzzled voice.

Gurgeh sagged. He sat down. "You didn't see or hear anything just now?"

"Nothing but silence for the last eleven minutes, Gurgeh, since you told me to hold all calls. There have been two of those since, but—"

"Never mind," Gurgeh sighed. "Get me Hub."

"Hub here; Makil Stra-bey Mind subsection. Jernau Gurgeh; what can we do for you?"

Gurgeh was still looking at the sky overhead, partly because that was where the Contact drone had gone (the thin vapour-trail was starting to expand and drift), and partly because people tended to look in the direction of the Hub when they were talking to it.

He noticed the extra star just before it started to move. The light-point was near the trailing end of the little drone's farside-lit contrail. He frowned. Almost immediately, it moved; only moderately fast at first, then too quickly for the eye to anticipate.

It disappeared. He was silent for a moment, then said, "Hub, has a Contact ship just left here?"

"Doing so even as we speak, Gurgeh. The (Demilitarised) Rapid Offensive Unit—"

-Zealot," Gurgeh said.

"Ho-ho! It was you, was it? We thought it was going to take months to work that one out. You've just seen a Private visit, game-player Gurgeh; Contact business; not for us to know. Wow, were we inquisitive though. Very glamorous, Jernau, if we may say so. That ship crash-stopped from at least forty kilolights and swerved twenty years… just for a five-minute chat with you, it would seem. That is serious energy usage… especially as it's accelerating away just as fast. Look at that kid go… oh, sorry; you can't. Well, take it from us; we're impressed. Care to tell a humble Hub Mind subsection what it was all about?"

"Any chance of contacting the ship?" Gurgeh said, ignoring the question.

"Dragging away like that? Business end pointed straight back at a mere civilian machine like ourselves…?" The Hub Mind sounded amused. "Yeah… we suppose so."

"I want a drone on it called Loash Armasco-Iap Wu-Handrahen Xato Koum."

"Holy shit, Gurgeh, what are you tangling with here? Handrahen? Xato? That's equiv-tech espionage-level SC nomenclature. Heavy messing…. Shit…. We'll try…. Just a moment."

Gurgeh waited in silence for a few seconds.

"Nothing," the voice from the terminal said. "Gurgeh, this is Hub Entire speaking here; not a subsection; all of me. That ship's acknowledging but it's claiming there is no drone of that name or anything like it aboard."

Gurgeh slumped back in the seat. His neck was stiff. He looked down from the stars, down at the table. "You don't say," he said. "Shall I try again?"

"Think it'll do any good?"

"No."

"Then don't."

"Gurgeh. This disturbs me. What is going on?"

"I wish," Gurgeh said, "I knew." He looked up at the stars again. The little drone's ghostly vapour-trail had almost disappeared. "Get me Chamlis Amalk-ney, will you?"

"On line … Jernau?"

"What, Hub?"

"Be careful."

"Oh. Thanks. Thanks a lot."

"You must have annoyed it," Chamlis said through the terminal.

"Very likely," Gurgeh said. "But what do you think?"

"They were sizing you up for something."

"You think so?"

"Yes. But you just refused the deal."

"Did I?"

"Yes, and think yourself lucky you did, too."

"What do you mean? This was your idea."

"Look, you're out of it. It's over. But obviously my request went further and quicker than I thought it would. We triggered something. But you've put them off. They aren't interested any more."

"Hmm. I suppose you're right."

"Gurgeh; I'm sorry."

"Never mind," Gurgeh told the old machine. He looked up at the stars. "Hub?"

"Hey; we're interested. If it had been purely personal we wouldn't have listened to a word, we swear, and besides, it'd be notified on your daily communication statement we were listening."

"Never mind all that." Gurgeh smiled, oddly relieved the Orbital's Mind had been eavesdropping. "Just tell me how far away that ROU is."

"On the word «is», it was a minute and forty-nine seconds away; a light month distant, already clear of the system, and well out of our jurisdiction, we're very glad to say. Hightailing it in a direction a little up-spin of Galactic Core. Looks like it's heading for the GSV Unfortunate Conflict Of Evidence, unless one of them's trying to fool somebody."

"Thank you, Hub. Goodnight."

"To you too. And you're on your own this time, we promise."

"Thank you, Hub. Chamlis?"

"You might just have missed the chance of a lifetime, Gurgeh… but it was more likely a narrow escape. I'm sorry for suggesting Contact. They came too fast and too hard to be casual."

"Don't worry so much, Chamlis," he told the drone. He looked back at the stars again, and sat back, swinging his foot up on to the table. "I handled it. We managed. Will I see you at Tronze tomorrow?"

"Maybe. I don't know. I'll think about it. Good luck — I mean against this wonderchild, at Stricken — if I don't see you tomorrow."

He grinned ruefully into the darkness. "Thanks. Goodnight, Chamlis."

"Goodnight, Gurgeh."

The train emerged from the tunnel into bright sunlight. It banked round the remainder of the curve, then set out across the slender bridge. Gurgeh looked over the handrail and saw the lush green pastures and brightly winding river half a kilometre below on the valley floor. Shadows of mountains lay across the narrow meadows; shadows of clouds freckled the tree-covered hills themselves. The wind of the train's slipstream ruffled his hair as he drank in the sweet, scented mountain air and waited for his opponent to return. Birds circled in the distance over the valley, almost level with the bridge. Their cries sounded through the still air, just audible over the windrush sound of the train's passing.

Normally he'd have waited until he was due in Tronze that evening and go there underground, but that morning he'd felt like getting away from Ikroh. He'd put on boots, a pair of conservatively styled pants and a short open jacket, then taken to the hill paths, hiking over the mountain and down the other side.

He'd sat by the side of the old railway line, glanding a mild buzz and amusing himself by chucking little bits of lodestone into the track's magnetic field and watching them bounce out again. He'd thought about Yay's floating islands.