“If you have the only phone in the world, it might as well be a salt shaker. If I have a phone and you have a phone we can talk to each other, but nobody else. Now, if everyone has a phone, all sorts of things are possible. You can’t do business without one, you can’t even live without one. Lock yourself out of your home? You call a locksmith round to let you in. Want to go to a restaurant? Call your friends and tell them where to meet you. And so on. The usefulness of a phone relates not to how many people have got them, but to how many lines you can draw between those people. And the Clan’s one real talent is—” she shrugged—“forget cargo, we can’t shift as much in a day as a single ox-drawn wagon. The real edge the Clan has got is its ability to transmit messages.”

“Like phones.”

Miriam could almost see the light bulb switch on over her head. “Yes. If we can just break out of this loop of killing, even if it costs us, if we can just start trading…think about it. No more messing around with the two of us running errands. No more worries about the amount we can carry. And nobody trying to kill us, which I’d call a not-insignificant benefit—wouldn’t you?”

“Nice idea,” said Olga. “It’s surely a shame the other side will kill you rather than listen.”

“Isn’t that a rather defeatist attitude?”

“They’ve been trying to keep the civil war going,” Olga pointed out.

“Are you sure they did not intrigue it in the first place? A lie here and a cut throat there, and their fearsome rivals—we families—will kill each other happily. Isn’t that how it started?”

“It probably did.” Miriam agreed. “So? What’s your point? The people who did that are long since dead. How long are you going to keep slaughtering their descendants?”

“But—” Olga stopped. “You really do want him alive,” she said slowly.

“Not exactly. What I don’t want is him dead, adding to the bad blood between the families. As a corpse he’s no use to anyone. Alive, he could be a go-between, or an information source, or a hostage, or something.”

Miriam finished with her soup. “Listen, I have to go to the office, but tomorrow evening I need to be in Niejwein. At the Castle Hjorth. Lin, whoever he is, was from out of town. Chances are we can get there from here without being noticed by anyone in this world, at least anyone but Inspector Smith. This afternoon I’m going to the office. I suggest that tomorrow morning we catch the train to New London. That’s New York in my world. When we get there—how well do you know Niejwein? Outside of the palaces and houses?”