“You—you!” Stella sputtered, clearly outraged about something. Ky looked at her. “You contemptible toad!”

“Now, Stella, sweetling, no need to blow a jet.”

“Don’t sweetling me, you—you—” She turned to Ky. “This… this miserable excuse spent two whole days lecturing me on the evils of my past, my luxurious and pampered past, convincing me that I was to blame for the inequalities of the universe because I’d never questioned where Vatta money came from, and all that time—”

“How do you suppose I knew what leverage would work, my dear?” Rafe asked coolly. “It takes one to know one; I knew what would sting me, and thus that it would sting you. And besides, you are so sweet when you feel guilty. As opposed to the way you are when you don’t.” He held up a finger. “And don’t say you’ll hate me forever, because you know you won’t.”

Toby, Ky noticed, was watching this with eyes wide.

“I still don’t have a last name,” she said to Rafe. “Not the one on your current ID, at least.”

“Oh. Yes.” For an instant, a patch of color appeared on his cheeks. He fished out the ID packet and handed it over. “It’s fake, of course, and only of moderate quality. I had it done in a rush before we left, to throw off pursuit, we hoped. Stella’s is fake, too, at the moment. It seems to have worked.”

“Ralph San Volan,” Ky said, reading it off.

Rafe shrugged. “I was using Murchison back on Allray, and running a shop selling antiquities and books.”

“And other things,” Stella put in. Ky could tell that she was still furious.

“And other things as necessary to keep my lines of contact open with the kinds of people ordinary ISC personnel cannot know,” Rafe said, glancing at Stella and then back to Ky. “You must realize that those people do not trust straight arrows.”

“I know that,” Ky said.

“Good. Because if I’m to be any use to you, I need to establish my lines of communication here.”

Ky ignored the presumption in that for the moment. She wasn’t sure she wanted him to try to be of use to her. “You’ve been here before?”

“Oh, yes. Some years back.”

“Just as a matter of curiosity, when does your partnership contract with Stella and Toby expire?”

“Um… not too long now, I think,” Rafe said.

Ky let her teeth show. “I suspect you know to the minute, Rafe. Let’s not play games.”

“But games are such fun. All right, in about twenty-three hours. Why? Are you going to ask me to extend?”

“I’m thinking about it. It seems to me that Vatta and ISC interests run together lately.”

“They may do. But my interests intersect ISC’s only in particular areas. Perhaps we should both think about it.”

“And discuss it in, say, four hours?” Ky said.

“As the captain wishes,” he said, all courtliness. Whoever he really was, someone had taught him manners, and more than one kind. Ky looked again at his gray hair. “How old are you really?”

“You want all my realities revealed?” he asked. “Very well—” And he scrubbed at his face with his hands. When he brought them down, a much younger man grinned at her, his face subtly reshaped, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “The hair’s not this gray or this thin, either, but I’d prefer to deal with that in a proper bathroom, if this ship has a proper bathroom. I’m only a year older than Stella in true biological time, but I’m much, much older in experience.”

Ky caught a movement of Stella’s hands, and glanced over to find the perfect cheekbones restored to the breathtaking beauty she remembered. Stella opened her hand. “Cheekpads,” she said. “And my hair’s not really this color. Rafe’s got black hair, if you want to know.”

Ky looked at Toby, who shook his head. “Rafe wouldn’t let me,” he said. “He says as fast as I’m growing, I’m not the same two days in a row anyway.”

“That’s a relief,” Ky said.

Chapter Twelve

Wait here,” Ky said, “while I get Toby settled, and see about finding you berths—I presume you’d rather stay aboard than onstation?”

“I would,” Stella said.

“Even though a Vatta ship was blown up in dock at Allray?” Rafe said.

“Even though,” Stella said.

“I will do as the captain prefers,” Rafe said, tilting his head at Ky, and leaving for now hanging between them, unsaid.

“Fine, then,” Ky said. “I’ll be back shortly. Come on, Toby.”

Toby followed her out of the rec area to Engineering; Martin trailed along. “I need to get back to dockside, Captain, if that’s all right.”

“That’s fine, Martin, go ahead.” He nodded and turned away. Ky walked on, wondering what she could say to comfort a boy who had lost his family and shipmates. Damned little comfort in the universe, but that wasn’t what he needed to hear. On the other hand, maybe he didn’t need comfort as much as something to do. Ky said, “Stella says you’re also in this partnership?”

“Yes, ma’am—Captain.”

“What do you think of Rafe?”

“Me? I’m just—”

“Old enough to be a partner, Toby. That’s old enough to assess the character of a partner, by law. What do you think of him?”

“I don’t exactly know. He’s—he knows a lot of things I think are probably bad things, but he’s been a good partner so far.”

“Does Stella trust him?”

“In partnership yes, but not before. She had me hold a weapon on him, before they—we—formed the partnership, when she was showing him what she carried.”

Ky turned and looked at him. “Trusts you, doesn’t she? Could you have shot him?”

“I—I think so.” He looked tense and worried, which was, Ky thought, exactly how he should look when he contemplated the possibility of killing someone.

“Good,” Ky said. “We’ll try to keep you out of such situations in the future, but just in case, I’m glad to know you’re that reliable.”

He said nothing, and she led him on into Engineering, where Quincy was leaning over Jim at one of the work spaces; Puddles lay at his feet, chewing vigorously on his leash. Quincy looked up. “Who’s this, then?”

“Toby Vatta,” Ky said. “Survivor of the attack on Ellis Fabery at Allray. News was wrong—they weren’t all killed.”

“How’d he—”

“My cousin Stella brought him,” Ky said, and cut off further questions with a warning glance. “Toby, this is Quincy Robins, one of the most senior engineers in Vatta, and from this point on your tutor. Quince, Toby was more than halfway through his apprentice voyage, and he says his instructors thought he had an aptitude for drives. Since I have no idea when we can get him home, we need to set up a complete educational course for him, find him bunk space, and get him fitted out with whatever he needs. Can you see to that? Order in whatever you need. I have some other urgent business.”

“Of course,” Quincy said. “Toby, is it? You’re in a growing stage, aren’t you? I recognize the signs.”

Toby nodded. “Is that a… a dog?”

“It’s a nuisance,” Quincy said. “Jim’s idea.” She glared at Ky.

“It’s a puppy,” Ky said. “Do you know anything about dogs?”

“I had a dog back home,” Toby said. “Before I left for ship duty. She was a mazehound. She didn’t look anything like that, even when she was born.” Ky had no idea what a mazehound was, but for the first time thought there might be a purpose in having a puppy aboard.

“This one’s supposed to be a Jack Russell terrier,” Ky said. “Whatever that is. His name’s Puddles.”

“We’ll need to stock extra rations, Captain,” Quincy said. “Boys this age eat like a regiment.”

“I’ll put it on the list,” Ky said. Quincy seemed to glow with a sudden burst of grandmotherliness, which was just what the boy needed, Ky felt sure. “Jim, come along with me.” Jim’s face took on a worried expression, but he got up quickly and followed her back to the rec room.

She heard the low murmur of voices, but not what they were saying; Stella and Rafe were both silent when she came in.