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you were picked up in a life-support capsule?”
    “I was told that much, but little else.”
    “They didn’t tell you how long you’d been drifting?”
    “I did overhear something to the effect that it might have been a while,” he said. “But nothing was officially mentioned.”
    “I don’t suppose you happened to ‘overhear’ anything else, did you?”
    “Little. Why?”
    “Because the science officer’s report was destroyed with the Midnight .” Along with any records of the conversation that had led him to her, she added to herself, rubbing a hand across tired eyes. The rush of adrenaline she had experienced over the last few hours had left her feeling more than a little exhausted. “Your recollections are all we have left to go on, I’m afraid.”
    Cane raised an eyebrow. “Well, I know I was picked up near an anchor point leading here. Not by chance, either: the Midnight apparently detected a distress signal. Where the signal came from, however, is a mystery; the capsule had no transmitter, and the signal vanished once they picked up the capsule on scan.” He shrugged. “I can’t explain it, and neither could the science officer.”
    Roche nodded, absorbing the information. “What else?”
    “Not much. He wanted to know more about the way the capsule worked. I gather it contained a lot of equipment not normally required for any sort of emergency coma.”
    “Such as?”
    “Biofeedback systems, I believe, but I really don’t know.” He shook his head. “I have no memory at all of any time before the capsule. If there was any.”
    Roche frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
    “Nothing.” A smile touched his lips but was gone a moment later. “It sometimes feels as though I was born inside the capsule,”
    “If you were, then you’ve grown up quick; you can talk, think, and move like an adult.” And a very adept one at that, she thought to herself. She could see his potential in the way he held himself: constantly primed, ready to act, and yet, paradoxically, always at ease with his situation. The way he had carried himself in the lander bay had been more than impressive. An army of soldiers like Cane would be hard to stop. “Perhaps you were a combat soldier?”
    “Maybe,” he said, but without conviction.
    A groan from behind them made them both turn. Roche instinctively reached for her pistol, then saw it was the old Eckandi, struggling in his chair. He was little more than semiconscious, and she noted with approval that Cane had locked the harness tight—something she should have done herself. Still, she kept the pistol ready. If the Surin had been a reave, who knew what the Eckandi—the Surin had called him “Veden,” she recalled—would be.
    Veden shook his head, opened his eyes. Taking in the interior of the lander with one quick glance, he turned to face Roche and Cane.
    “Where—?” His voice was thin and accented faintly, but clear. His wide-pupiled eyes were startled, flitting between Roche and Cane, their movement beneath the fine milky film that was peculiar to the Eckandar Caste causing Roche some discomfort. “Where am I?”
    “On the lander,” Roche replied. “Heading for Sciacca’s World.”
    “The Midnight ?” Without waiting for a reply he turned to the unconscious Surin strapped into the seat beside him. “Maii?” He made to move, then realized that he too was restrained. “What have you done to her?”
    Roche watched with interest the concern on the Eckandi’s face. “She’ll be okay.”
    “You know she’s a reave?” Roche nodded; Veden shook his head. “I can’t even begin to imagine how you managed to get past her.”
    Nor can I, Roche admitted to herself, but said: “We surprised you in the lander bay. Do you remember that?”
    “I remember you shot me.” Thin but distinct muscles tightened around the Eckandi’s eyes. “I remember that much.”
    “You fired upon us first,” said Cane.
    “What else was I supposed to do? We had