The two of them were waiting on the elevator that would take Marce down to the lobby. The newly hired crew for the Yes, Sir were told to collect there in order for their papers to be processed and then to be bussed to port, to head to the ship. That was convenient for Marce, who could blend in with the rest of the new crew.

But it also meant that these were literally the last moments he would spend with his sister, possibly in his entire life.

“Tell Dad I’m sorry I didn’t get to say good-bye,” he said, to Vrenna.

“I will. He’ll understand. He won’t be happy, but he’ll understand. He’ll be okay.”

“And how about you? Are you going to be okay?”

Vrenna smiled. “I’m pretty good at being okay. If nothing else, I’m good at keeping busy. And the thing is, rumor has it that no matter what, everyone on End is going to be really busy soon. I have an agenda, anyway.”

“What’s on the agenda?”

“The first thing is to dangle Ghreni Nohamapetan off a building for kidnapping my brother.”

Marce laughed at this, and then the elevator bell dinged and the door opened.

Vrenna grabbed her brother in a fierce hug, gave him a peck on the cheek, and then pushed him, gently, into the elevator. “Go on,” she said. “Go tell the emperox everything. Save everyone if you can. And then come back.”

“I’ll try.”

“Love you, Marce,” Vrenna said, as the door started to close.

“Love you, Vrenna,” Marce said, just before it did.

Marce had twenty floors to get his emotions in check.

The elevator opened up to a couple dozen people milling about and three people in official House of Lagos crew uniforms. One of them looked over to Marce as the elevator opened up. “What the hell are you doing in the elevator?” she asked.

“I was looking for a bathroom,” Marce said.

“Well, there’s not one in there. Get out of that.”

Marce got out. The crew member held out her hand for his papers; he handed them over.

“Kristian Jansen,” she said, looking at them.

“That’s me.”

“Any relation to Knud Jansen?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I shipped with him once. He was from End, too.”

“There’s a lot of Jansens.”

The crew member nodded, and then held up her tablet. “Thumb.” Marce pressed his fake thumb on the tablet, which scanned the print on it. The crew member then held up the tablet close to Marce’s eyes. “Don’t blink.” The camera on the back of the tablet scanned Marce’s contacts.

“Well, you really are Kristian Jansen, and you don’t have any outstanding warrants or debts, your guild union dues are paid up, and your personnel ratings are good,” the crew member said. “Welcome aboard.”

“Thank you, uh…”

“Ndan. Petty Officer Gtan Ndan.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”