“What do you mean?” Fift asked Grobbard. “You mean it was part of the show? That Thavé’s in on it, with the Cirque? That ze was waiting for someone to give zir a cue so ze could deliver zir lines . . . ?”

“Perhaps,” Grobbard said. “Or perhaps ze was simply forewarned? Knew it was happening? And found a way to insert zir own message before the show?” Ze shrugged.

Fift reached Shria and curled an arm around vir waist. One of the Vails, holding one of Shria’s arms, yanked back an anonymized blue leg to kick vem. Fift’s heart was pounding, but ze flowed zir own leg out and lightly, gently placed zir foot against the foot of the Vail. The Vail paused. Shria roared.

Panaximandra was saying something else, but Fift couldn’t hear over the crowd bellowing, “FREEDOM!”

The ball bounced at the bottom of the chute, carrying Fift up with it. Ze braced zirself for the buffering second touchdown, and sank into the goop.

“I can’t believe the two of you are sitting here calmly talking about that,” Squell said. “In the middle of this! Fift, you tell that Shria vailchild to bring you back here this heartbeat!”

“VALOR!”

The other Vail struck Shria in the head and ve stumbled back, dragging Fift with vem. Ze lost zir calming hold on the first Vail’s foot, but ze kept hanging onto Shria. Ze kept zir head down.

Ze ducked out of the ball’s mouth and watched it slurp up, drawn back up into the drop chute. Ze started shaking. “Martial Staidity,” ze said. “Kumru.”

“Are you listening to me?” Squell said. “Are you away from that crowd?”

“CONQUEST!”

Shria lost vir footing and fell. Vir body was shaking with sobs. Fift crawled over vem, covering vir head, vir chest, trying to be water. They wouldn’t kick a Staid, would they? Not on purpose? Shria yanked vir head away. “Shh, Shria,” ze said. “Shh. Come on: curl up, play dead.” Something snapped against the side of zir head and zir ears rang again. A body fell on them, and Fift sank down with the weight.

Shria yanked vemself out of zir grasp. Fift tried to flow out from under, and caught vir arm. “Shria,” ze said. “We—”

“LET GO OF ME!” Shria screamed.

“Fift,” Father Grobbard said. “Please answer your Father Squell.”

Fift leaned zir head against the ridiculous active-display wall above the running floor. If the feed were on and ze could have seen zirself, it would have looked like ze was leaning zir head on air, a bodylength from a spiky, twisted garnagh tree. Behind zir, ze heard the ball rebound. “Shria,” ze whispered, “please.”

“Shria!” Ze screamed, losing zir flow-like-water relaxation. “Please!”

Shria was up on vir feet again, and ve was roaring, striking the anonybodies with elbows and knees.

“BABIES!”

Father Grobbard raised zir eyebrows. “Fift?”