“We are currently five scilliants from the station and clear of danger. Proximity suggests an Arranti is in nearby game-space, but focused on the station.”

Niko shivered. Was that the explanation for the destruction of the station? It had to be something big like that, or else someone would have spotted whatever it was coming and evacuation would have happened in a more orderly fashion. TwiceFar was known for being a little chaotic, but bureaucracy always had held firm.

The idea that it might get caught up in Arranti games had been the last thing from her mind. Her earlier words to Dabry ran through her head: Heavy portents could mean anything from our critic getting a stomachache to the whole place getting blown up by an Arranti who thought it would advance their game.

She could have sworn she’d been naming an impossibility, but had some prescience ticked her brain?

“Very well then, set course for Gamelon-Twelve. We can find out where his clone is located there.”

“What if he has more than one?” Milly said.

“Beyond the fact it is highly illegal to have more than one, most people don’t want to run the chance of two getting accidentally activated and conflicting. Or someone using them as a weapon.” Niko shook her head, running through plans in her head.

They could catch their breaths there and call in a few favors, plus Niko could check with the insurance network. She intended to charge Arpat Takraven’s next incarnation for taking his fancy ship to him as well, but she’d need to contact him first, make sure that he’d make good on his previous existence’s promise. She would have the tape of him entering the restaurant, at least—well, perhaps, if that had been archived, she thought, wondering about the station—but better yet, she would have Lolola. Surely the critic would corroborate his presence, as would the fact that they now occupied his ship.

“Course change denied. Current course remains Scourse.”

“What? No one goes to Scourse on business. It’s a prison planet,” Niko said.

“Change course immediately,” Lolola said. “A savage place like that? With criminals?” She shuddered.

The critic had been quiet most of the time, clearly shaken by Arpat’s death and more than willing to cling to the group that seemed to have a way off the station. Niko wondered what the critic actually thought of all this. She remembered Dabry’s eggplant, now long gone, and its components, the neat, fan-shaped slices, probably floating in space, with a twinge of regret. So much for a Nikkelin Orb.

“It probably wouldn’t have brought in that much business anyway,” she muttered to herself.

“Course change denied. Current course remains Scourse.”

“Why are we going to Scourse?” Niko asked.

It might have been Niko’s imagination, but the ship’s tone seemed smug. “To deliver you as thieves to the authorities for attempting to steal this vessel.”

8