The worm wasn’t spewing mass. So its other end wasn’t buried in the middle of a star, or anyplace obviously dangerous. One of the half-dozen new theories squirting out on tightbeam held that maybe this was a multiply-connected wormhole, with many ends, of both positive and negative mass. In that case, plunging down it could take you to different destinations. A subway system for a galaxy—or for a universe.

Since it must have been made in the Big Blossoming, there were myriad possibilities. As some early biologist, maybe Darwin, had said, “One example proves a species behind it.” Maybe…

So: no threat, and plenty of possibilities. Interesting market prospects. She was with Claire, who shrugged and said, “Have your advocate talk to my advocate.”

“It’s a unique natural resource—”

“And it’s mine.” Claire grinned. “You specified a flyby, no constraint on possession.”

He was lean and muscular and the best man Rachel had seen in months. Also the only man she had seen in weeks. Fraq was male, mysterious, elegant, but…

“I can have a team board you, y’know.” He towered over them, using the usual ominous male thing.

“I don’t think you’re that fast,” Claire said.

“What’s speed got to do with it?”

“I can always turn off my grapplers.” She pulled out a switch she had in her jacket pocket. “If it’s not mine, then I can just let everybody have it.”

“Why would you—” Claire made to press a pad on the switch and he blurted, “No, don’t!”

It wasn’t the right switch at all, but he didn’t know that. “If I release it, the worm takes off—antigravity, sort of.” Rachel knew this was an oversimplified dynamic, but kept quiet. This guy was great on theory, but this was experiment—and intimidation.

He blinked. “We, we could catch it.”

“You couldn’t even find it. It’s dead-black now.” She tapped the switch, letting a malicious smile play on her lips.

He flinched. “Please don’t.”

“I need to hear a number. An offer.”

His lips compressed until they paled. “The wormhole price, minus your fine?”

Her turn to blink. “What fine? I was on an approved flyby—”

“That solar flare wouldn’t have blown for months!” His mouth twisted, eyebrows flared, eyes big. “You did a real job on it—the whole magnetic arcade went up at once! People all the way out to the asteroids had to scramble for shelter. It struck here within hours, well before you returned.” He looked at Rachel and Claire and a silent Fraq steadily. Rachel could not decide whether he was telling the truth. Maybe that didn’t matter. This was headbutting, done by pros. Instructive…

Claire was frowning. “So their costs—”

“Could run high. Very high. Plus advocate fees.” He smiled, ever so slightly, eyes now gleaming.

Erma was trying to tell them something, but Claire turned the tiny voice far down, until it buzzed like an irritated insect.

A silence. Rachel knew Claire had endured weeks of Erma-sim—plus irritating calls from everywhere, pouring in all along the flight back—in an ever nastier mood. They were so down in water, isotopes for the reactor, a dozen other things, that they’d had to cry for help. Luckily, a supply luggo freighter was doing a delta-v Oberth maneuver near the sun. It had caught up to them and done a mass transfer, mostly water. So…