I used a camera at the hotel. The first disk I made would go through Outbound Enterprises. “John, I’m all right. I was on a dead island eating fish for a while.” A slightly belligerent tone: “I haven’t heard a word from Adelaide or Milcenta. I know Milcenta better than you do, and frankly, I believe they must have separated by now. Home looks like a new life, but I haven’t given up on the old one. I’ll let you know when I know myself.”

So much for the ears of Ms. Machti.

Time lag had me suddenly wiped out. I floated between the sleeping plates…exhausted but awake. What should I put in a real message?

Carlos’s tape was a wonderful lesson in communication. He wants to talk to Feather. The children are not to be put at risk. Beowulf is presumed dead. C’est la vie; Carlos will not seek vengeance. But he wants Sharrol alive. Feather is not to come to Home without Sharrol. Carlos can enforce any agreement. He hadn’t said so because it’s too obvious. A frozen Feather, arriving at Home unaccompanied, need never wake.

And he had the money! Not just his own funds, but the money Feather knew about, “family funds”: he must have reached civilization ahead of her and somehow sequestered what Feather had funneled through the ARM. If Feather was loose on Fafnir, then she was also broke. She owned nothing but the credit that would get her a hyperwave call to Home, or herself and Sharrol shipped frozen. Though Carlos didn’t know it, even Sharrol had escaped.

Nearly five months. How was Feather living? Did she have a job? Something I could track? With her training she might be better off as a thief.

Yah! I tumbled out of the sleepfield and tapped out my needs in some haste. She hadn’t been caught at any capital crime, but any jail on Shasht would record Adelaide Graynor’s retina prints. The caller ran its search…

Nothing.

Okay, job. Feather needed something that would allow her time to take care of a prisoner. She had to have that if she had Sharrol, or in case she recaptured Sharrol, or captured Beowulf.

So I looked through some job listings, but nothing suggested itself. I turned off the caller and hoped for sleep. Perhaps I dozed a little.

Sometime in the night I realized that I had nothing more to say to Carlos.

Even Sharrol’s escape wasn’t information unless she stayed loose. Feather was a trained ARM. I was a self-trained tourist; I couldn’t possibly hunt her down. There was only one way to hunt Feather.

It was still black outside, and I was wide awake. The caller gave me a listing of all night restaurants.