"I truly believe in the Komarr project," Wing told him, with apparent sincerity.  And a touch of euphoria, though Miles couldn't tell if it was induced by the wine or the closing of the negotiations; to Wing, he suspected, they were interchangeable.  The man harbored an almost Jacksonian passion for winning in the Deal.  "In fact, I've switched all my own stock and options from WhiteChrys to WhiteChrys Solstice.  I've even placed my own cryo-contract with the new facility, that's how much I'm behind it.  So you see I've put my money and my life where my mouth is."  His dark eyes almost sparkled with this revelation.

And Miles, connections boiling up at last, thought, Ye gods.  I think you've just handed me your head.

Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

The wolf spider was perky and sharp in a black coat with white stripes and neat dots, like an aristocrat in a historical holovid dressed for a night on the town.  Jin could clearly count all eight eyes in its fierce little face, two bright black buttons looking back at him, with four more below in a row like a smile, and another on each side of its head.  Beneath its—no, beneath her abdomen clung a bundle of fine white fluff, like a tiny cotton ball—an egg case?  Was she going to be a mama spider?  Prone on the floor of the musty garden shed, Jin stiffened with excitement, then drew slowly backwards, careful not to startle her into scuttling into the cracks in the floor or walls before he could find something to capture her in.  She was a good size for her breed, over three centimeters, quite as long and wide as the end joint of Jin's thumb, so she was certainly a grownup spider.  She seemed to wait patiently for him.

Jin stared around the shed in some frustration.  It was taking a lot longer to walk from his aunt and uncle's outlying northwest suburb to the near south side of the city than he had imagined.  It was partly from Mina lagging and complaining as soon as she'd grown tired, just as Jin had expected, but mostly he was afraid he'd got turned around and lost during their long trudge last night.  Streets curved unexpectedly, mixing him up, and the towers of the city center, glimpsed now and then from a hill or clear space, looked much the same from any direction.