Jason still seemed dazed so she tugged him into motion, straight across the street to the warehouses on the waterfront. "Where are we going?" Jason asked. "What's that noise?"

"We're going to hide in that warehouse," Kira said. "The noise is police using their clubs to rap out a simple code and exchange information with other police in the area."

"They communicate over distance by using wooden clubs?" Jason seemed impressed again.

"Yeah, guy who came from Urth in a big silver bubble ship." She knelt by the door into the warehouse. "Oh, sweet, this is an easy one."

"What do I do?"

"Try to look like a wall." Kira worked frantically, knowing that she had only seconds to pick the lock. The welcome click came and she pulled it open. "Inside."

She shoved him in first, sliding through after and closing the door. She caught a glimpse of a pair of patrol officers running down the street, but neither seemed to be looking toward the warehouse.

Closing the door, Kira beckoned to Jason and wove her way through the barrels and crates crowding the warehouse. She kept going until they reached the large doors giving access to the quay.

Someone was talking on the other side of the closed door leading to the water. "If they shut the street down we won't be able to get our workers in here. You'll have to wait."

A gruff woman's voice answered. "We have to make the tide or lose most of a day."

"We can't load you without workers! If the police seal off the street because of whatever caused that gunshot The Son of Taris will have to wait just like everybody else."

The Son of Taris must be a ship, Kira realized. One eager to sail. She ran from crate to crate, looking for any marked with that name.

There. Several crates, one of them more than a lance-length wide and about as deep. "Here, Jason. This crate is our ticket out of Dorcastle. The shipping label says it's a big metal casting so there should be a lot of packing in there. Help me get it open."

She grabbed one of the pry bars left leaning against another crate and passed a second one to Jason. The argument outside was continuing, more voices joining in, while sound from the street was growing in volume as more police arrived and excited crowds of workers gathered. Kira could only pray that whatever noise she and Jason made breaking into the crate would be masked.

Kira levered the pry bar, Jason helping with his, the top of the crate rising with a protesting squeal from the nails holding it shut. Kira waited, but the argument outside continued with no sign the noise had been noticed.