“Togay!" Leie cried imploringly. But the tall, strong-jawed woman looked at her sternly and shook her head. With an expression of satisfaction, Baltha motioned at the two guards, who stepped alongside the fiver and took her elbows. Leie's shoulders slumped as she was led away. All seven women descended the southward set of stairs, leaving behind a dusty, silent emptiness.

Creeping as quietly as possible, wary of the betraying reach of shadows, Maia followed.

A single electric cable continued down to the lower level, bulbs spaced far apart. Maia let the reavers and their captive get some distance ahead before hurrying after in short bursts, ducking into dark doorways whenever any of the women seemed to even hint at turning around. After they passed into a side corridor, she sped at a dead run, stopping at the edge to cautiously peer around.

The group halted at the first of several metal-bound doors, where stood another pair of guards. This time, one of them was armed with a vicious-looking firearm, the likes of which Maia had seen only once before in her life. This was no hunting rifle, being misused in pursuit of human beings. Rather, it was an automatic killing machine, built for spraying death in mass doses.

There was low conversation, a rattling of keys. As the door flung open, Maia glimpsed figures within, stirring in surprise. Her sister was shoved through. A reaver laughed. "Be nice to yer new friends, virgie. Maybe you can shuck your nickname b'fore drownin' with 'em!"

"Shut up, Riss," Baltha said, while Togay locked the door. Then, all except for the second pair of guards, they filed twenty meters or so down the hall, into the chamber next door. From an angle, Maia saw ranks of benches lining one wall of the room. Baltha and the others could be glimpsed walking around inside, frustration evident on their faces each time they reappeared in view. Shouts of anger and recrimination could be heard. One time, Baltha's voice rang out loud enough for Maia to make out clearly, "Back in the city aren't gonna be happy about this. Not happy t'all! …"

Maia was concentrating so hard, she only noticed the sound of footsteps after they echoed behind her for some time. Her hackles shot up when she realized, turning around quickly, ready to run. A single form could be seen approaching, entering and leaving succeeding pools of light. It soon manifested as a heavyset woman with a pocked complexion, whose reddish hair was bound by a like-colored bandanna. She carried a bucket in each hand, and wore a broad grin along with a stained apron. The smile kept Maia stationary, frozen with indecision.

"Zooks, you don't haveta perch so close, ya little query-bird. I could hear 'em arguin' all th' way to the main hall! What're they up to now? Found their man o' smoke, yet? Or do they plan t'keep us up all night, lookin'?"

Maia forced a smile. Pretending to be her sister would work only until word of Leie's arrest spread … a matter of minutes, at best.

"All night it is, I'm afraid," she answered with what she hoped was the right note of blithe resignation. "What's in the buckets?"

The reaver shrugged as she drew near and set the pails down with a sigh. "Supper for th' vrils. Late 'cause of the excitement. Some say what's the point, given the luck planned for 'em. But I say, even a man oughta get fed 'fore joinin' Lysos."

Maia's nostrils flared. Time was even shorter than she had thought. As soon as the scullery drudge entered the prison cell and saw Leie, all would be lost.

"I know why yer here," the older woman confided, moving a little closer.

"Oh yes?" Maia's hand crept toward her belt.

A wink. "You're, hopin' for clues. Peep on th' boss women, then off quick, after the reward!" The middle-aged var laughed. "S'okay. I was a younger, too — full o' frosty notions. Ye'll get yer clanhold yet, summer-child."

Maia nodded. "I . . . think I already found a clue. One all the others missed."

"S'truth?" The scullery wench leaned forward, eyes glittering. "What is it?"

"It'll take two of us to lift it," Maia confided. "Come, I'll show you."

She gestured toward the nearest dark doorway, motioning the bluff, eager woman ahead. As she followed, Maia's right hand slipped the cudgel from her waistband and brought it high.

Afterward, despite all her valid reasons for acting, she still felt guilty and mean.

The dim room wasn't quite empty or devoid of hints at its past life. Bare rock shelves and flinders of ancient wood planking testified that once upon a time, a substantial library might have stood here. Except for curled bits of former leather bindings, all that remained of the books was dust. After dragging the cook's unconscious body inside, and hurriedly fetching the buckets, Maia swapped coats and borrowed her victim's bandanna, which she tied low, almost over her eyes. She finished in time to hear muttering voices and footsteps approach. From the shadows, Maia counted figures moving past, back toward the foyer of stairs. Six women, still arguing. From close range, Maia glimpsed seething anger in Baltha's eyes.

"… won't be happy to get nothin' out o' this but a little box full of alien shit. Some bugs taken from an outsider's vrilly gut may help knock down a clan or two, but we needed a political deal too, for protection! Without his tech-stuff, it won't matter how many smuggy clones die . . ."

Their voices faded. Still, Maia forced herself to wait, though she knew there was little time left. Soon, the first group — that had found her aboard the Manitou — would report "Leie" missing. That would set folk wondering how a fiver could manage to be two places at the same time.

With a pounding heart, Maia pulled the bandanna down further, picked up the food pails, and stepped out of the dim room. She approached the corner, turned, and made herself shuffle at a droopy, desultory pace toward the two burly vars guarding the sealed door. Trying to calm her frantic pulse, Maia reminded herself that she had one advantage. The wardens had no reason to expect danger in the form of a woman. Moreover, her arrival so soon after the leaders' departure implied she must have passed them on the way here. That, too, should reduce vigilance.

Nevertheless, she heard a wary click, and glimpsed the warrior with the automatic weapon lift it in the sort of tender but firm embrace women usually reserved for their own babes. Maia had only heard rumors of such mass-killing machines, until she was four, when she had first learned how much lay hidden in the world.

Unbeckoned — a brief, recollected image of a stone portal, grinding open at long last to reveal what the Lamai mothers and sisters wanted no one else to see. In light of so many things Maia had witnessed since, what had seemed so awful on that day had been, in fact, dreary, mundane. The irony was enough to make one laugh. Or cry.

Maia had no time or concentration to spare for either. She trudged forward, keeping her head down, and in a low voice muttered, "Grubb stuff for th' vrils."

Laughter from the one cradling the gun. "Why're we still botherin'?"

Maia shrugged, rocking from side to side, as if in fatigue. "Why ask me? Just lemme get rid o' the stink."

The second guard laid her trepp bill across one shoulder, and with her free hand took up jingling keys. "I dunno," she commented. "Seems a shame to waste all these boys. There oughta be frost, sometime soon. We can pass it 'round, then make a big, pretty fire . . ."

"Oh, shut up, Glinn," the guard with the assault rifle said, as she positioned herself behind and to Maia's left, ready to spread fire at anyone who tried breaking out. "You'll just get yourself all worked up and—"

Maia had been rocking in anticipation. As the door pushed open, she took a step, then swung the righthand pail in an arc, passing in front of her and then toward the guard with the gun. The riflewoman's eyes barely registered surprise before it drove into her gut, doubling her over without a sound. One down! Maia thought elatedly.