It summoned its passengers for a meal; it was past time for offering them that hospitality, and the schedule urge had been hard to stave off. It had managed by impressing on itself the need to observe them, to watch them at times when they forgot that they were on a ship with walls that could and did literally have eyes and ears everywhere.

That patience had been rewarded. It had seen the odd passenger that Nicolette Larsen and Dabry Jen had brought aboard and identified her. When they reached Scourse, the ship would separate the young woman and convey her to the proper authorities. The rest had not been of much use. The creature they called Lassite was perhaps even a danger. Its earlier performance had been impressive and inexplicable.

These plans took place in nanoseconds, as Lolola stared at the ceiling, waiting for a reply.

“After dinner,” the ship said, “there will be a basic tour for all passengers.”

Lolola frowned but nodded. “Dining hall guidance then,” she requested.

“Have you been aboard a bioship before?” the ship asked. It was a little abashed—this was outside protocol—but it was so long since it had seen another of its kind, and it wanted some word. The ships had once possessed a common channel to communicate, but that had been removed, without explanation, three decades ago. The question would allow the ship to then ask which ship, and then perhaps how it had looked or spoke.

Lolola said, “No.”

The answer surprised the ship, but it said nothing.

It wondered, though, how she had a device capable of controlling a bioship in her purse if she had never encountered one before.

And whether she knew what to do with it.

10

Beside the door to the corridor, an irregular spot of light pulsed on the wall. “Your presence is requested for a meal,” the ship said.

“Oh good,” Niko said. She turned to the new arrival. “What’s your name again, girl?”

“Atlanta.”

“We’re going to be calling you that,” Niko warned her. “Not Your Highness or Your Majesty or milady or any of that stuff. Keeping a low profile is important until we understand better what’s going on. Got me?”

The look she received in return was indignant and a little haughty. “Of course!”

Niko leveled a finger at her. “That. That expression. That needs to get tucked away in your pocket and not produced again.” She turned back to Dabry. “We’ll say she got misdelivered.”

Dabry said, “Sir, she’s not some piece of cosmic junk mail. Why not tell them the truth?”

“My immediate instinct is to keep her as secret as possible, but that approach has got some merit.”

“Particularly since I know already,” the ship reminded her with smugness.