"You just go to sleep, and then wake up in a future somebody else picked for you. No dreams," Miles agreed. "Blink out, blink back in. Like anesthesia, but longer." An intimate preview of death, and doubtless a lot less traumatic when the blink out part wasn't accomplished by a needle-grenade blowing out one's chest, Miles had to allow. He spread his palm on the drawer-front. "What happens to all the poor frozen people"-or frozen poor people-"if this place is discovered by the authorities?"

A brief, humorless grin ruffled the beard-thatch. "Well, they can't just let us thaw and rot, then bury us. That's illegal."

"Murder?"

"Of a sort. One of the grades of murder, anyway."

So this place was not as futile an effort as Miles had first guessed. Somebody was thinking ahead. How far? Who might find the future legal responsibility for these frozen souls on their hands? The municipality of Northbridge? Some unwitting entrepreneur, buying the rediscovered property for back taxes without inspecting it first? Cheating death, indeed. "Illegal at the moment, then. What happens if the law changes?"

Tenbury shrugged. "Then several thousand people will have died calmly and without pain, in hope and not despair. And won't know the difference." He added after a thoughtful pause, "That would be an ugly sort of world to wake up in anyway."

"Mm, I don't suppose the authorities would go to the trouble and expense of reviving folks just to let them die again immediately. Blink out, and…?stay blinked." There were worse ways to arrive at an identical fate. Miles had seen many of them.

"Well, I need to get back to work," Tenbury hinted away his uninvited visitor. "I hope this helped you."

"Yes, yes it did. Thank you." Miles let Tenbury shepherd him back through the shop to the first corridor. "I suppose I'd better go feed Jin's pets. I did promise the boy I would."

"Odd kid, that. I had hopes for a bit he might apprentice to me, but he's more interested in animals than machinery." Tenbury sighed, whether in regret or bafflement Miles was not quite sure.

"Um…" said Miles, staring up the darkened corridor.

"First door on your left," said Tenbury, and thoughtfully held his office door wide to light the way till Miles had found it in the gloom. The stair rail and a careful count of the turns guided Miles after that. He emerged again in the basement near the cafeteria, and from there found his way back up to Jin's roof via the interior stairs.

Emerging into the daylight and greeted by milling chickens, he thought, Damn, but I hope the boy makes it back here soon.

?

The big downtown tube-tram transfer station was just as confusing going back as forward, Jin found when he'd taken his second wrong turn. The crowd made him nervous, and it was only going to get worse as the time edged toward rush hour. He needed to get out of here. Scowling, he turned around a couple of times, reoriented himself, and made his way upstream through an entry corridor, bumping a lot of folks going the other way.

What was in that big thick envelope Counsel Vorlynkin had handed to him? It crackled against his skin. Entering the second-level rotunda, he dodged out of the way of a woman with a pram, then leaned his shoulders against a pillar and fished out the letter. To his disappointment, it wasn't sealed with a bloody thumbprint, but it was certainly sealed. No peeking. He sighed and thrust it back inside his shirt.

He finally found the right escalator, and rode it up two flights to the top-level gallery. He was worried about his animals. Would Miles-san take proper care of them? You never could tell, with adults. They pretended to take you seriously, but then laughed behind your back at the things that were important to you. Or said that because you were just a kid, you would forget it all soon. But Miles-san had seemed to genuinely like Jin's rats, letting Jinni sit on his shoulder and nibble at his hair without flinching. Jin could tell when grownups didn't really appreciate how sleek and funny and friendly rats could be, and they didn't bite hard at all unless they were accidentally squeezed, and who could blame them for that?

The squeeze on Jin's shoulder made him jump and yelp. If he'd been equipped for it, he might have bitten the hand as well, but all he could do was twist and stare upward. Straight into the face of his worst nightmare.

Brown hair, a pleasant smile, the blue uniform of municipal security. Not just a tube-tram safety officer; their uniforms were green. A real policewoman, the sort who'd come for his mother.

"What's your name, child?" The voice was friendly, but the undertone steely.

Jin opened his mouth: "Jin…" Oh, no, that wouldn't do. Lying to grownups made him scared inside, but he managed, "Jin, um, Vorkson."

She blinked. "What kind of name is that?"

"My Dad was a galactic. But he's dead now," Jin added with hasty prudence. And half truth, for that matter. He tried not to think about the funeral.

"Does your mother let you come downtown alone? It's school hours, you know."

"Um, yes. She sent me on an errand for her."

"Let's call her, then."

Jin held out his skinny wrists. His stomach felt cold and quivery. "I don't have a wristcom, ma'am."

"That's all right. You can come along to the security booth, and we can call her from there."

"No!" In a panic now, Jin tried to wrench away. Somehow, he found his arm cranked up behind his back, hurting. His shirt tail came loose, and the envelope dropped to the pavement with a loud slap. "No, wait!" He tried to dive for it. Without releasing his arm, the woman scooped it up first, staring at it with a deepening frown.

She murmured to her own wristcom, "Code Six, Dan. Level One."

In moments, another policeman loomed. "What ho, Michiko? Catch us a little shoplifter?"

"I'm not sure. Truant, maybe. This young fellow needs to come to the booth and call his mother. And get ID'd, I think."

"Right."

Jin's other arm was taken in an even stronger fist. Helplessly, he let himself be marched along. He was wild for a chance to break away, but neither grip slackened.

The security booth had big glass windows overlooking the rotunda. It was cool inside, and when the door shut a wonderful silence fell, which usually would be a relief to Jin, but not now. A lot of screens were running, and Jin realized that some of them were from vidcams that looked right into people's faces as they went up or down on the escalators. He hadn't noticed them among the noise and confusion and hurry of the place. The woman plunked him down in a swivel chair. His feet didn't quite reach the floor.

The wide man, Dan, held up a light pen. "Let me see your eyes, child."

Retina scan? A red flash. Jin squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as he could, and clapped his palms over his face for good measure. But it was already too late. He heard the man moving away to his comconsole.

"He's scared, Dan," said the woman. Jin peeked through his fingers to see her holding up the envelope, squeezing and rattling it like a birthday present. "Think the reason might be in here?"

A ping from the console. "Aha. I believe we have a match. That was quick." Officer Dan looked up and asked, "Is your name Jin Sato?"

"No!"

"It says here he's been missing for over a year."

Without letting go of Jin's arm, the woman edged around to look at the holoscreen. "Good heavens! I'll bet his family will be relieved to get him back!"

"No, they won't! Let me go!"

"Where have you been hiding for a whole year, son?" Officer Dan asked, not unkindly.

"And what is this?" Michiko asked, hefting the envelope and frowning.

"You can't have that! Give it back!"

"So what's in it?"

"It's just a letter. A, a very personal letter. I'm supposed to deliver it. For, for some men."