“I’ll let you have control of the Thing for five years,” he said. “During that time, you’ll give me—let’s say, thirty percent of your net.”

High, but not unfair, given the magnitude of the offer. Niko and her crew would be coming out way ahead. She didn’t trust this fortune, though. She said, “What other strings would there be?”

“I would expect you not to engage in anything illegal, like slavery,” he said.

“Small fear of that.”

He nodded and went on. “You’ll deposit my take every six months in an authorized Creditnet system. Lateness nets you a ten percent late charge, compounded weekly.”

Tough but doable. Niko nodded. Surely there was a catch coming.

“You will avoid the Arranti.”

That startled her. “How? No one can predict what they will do.”

He shook his head. “You mistake me. If you see one, even suspect one’s presence, you will leave.”

“Might I ask why?” she ventured.

“I do not trust their games. And that should be easy enough. What may be hardest is my third stipulation.”

“Which is?”

“Once a year, you will cook a meal for myself and some friends. I will provide the materials. Your total time for preparation and execution should be no longer than a week each time.”

“That’s an odd stipulation,” Niko said.

He smiled. “It will give me a chance to hear your stories each year. It seems to me you’ll have more than a few to tell. And I’d like to taste the food that should have gotten a Nikkelin Orb. In fact, I’m curious. You’ve rescued your friend and achieved your goal—what now?”

“I’d thought—” She looked around at the others. She’d been thinking about this for a while, but she hadn’t talked to any of them about it, not even Dabry.

They wanted to stay together, she knew that. Each of them had found a family here, of sorts. A ragtag, mishmash family, but a family nonetheless. And so she had come up with her plan.

“I don’t want us to settle down,” she said. “TwiceFar was interesting, but if we’re traveling with the Thing, we don’t want to create a permanent base.” She added, “Just yet, at any rate,” looking over at Arpat. The phrase five years hadn’t escaped her, nor that he hadn’t said anything about what would happen at the end of it.

Everyone was leaning forward now, intrigued and interested.

“So we take the food to the people,” she said. “Dock at a station, rent space, set up a pop-up kitchen, spend a few weeks giving them something new and different while we learn from them as well. Then we wander along, find someplace new.”