Chapter Two

Alex's mind was blank. Evan had agreed with him about taking Zane up on the offer, and they'd told the doctor over dinner, working out the details and boundaries of their proposed venture. But now that it was all agreed upon, it was starting to sink in. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring blankly out at the shipyards visible from his bedroom window, hoping his lack of sleep wasn't keeping Evan awake.

It wasn't his intention to be sitting there staring out at space without a single clear thought in his head. He'd planned on working out a strategy, or at least a first move that might begin their new job of finding out where the Sha'erah actually came from. He thought he could sit down, figure out a good place to start and some kind of cover story to work with, should they need one. But he was blank. Totally, completely, and utterly . . . blank.

He forced his eyes into focus and looked at his own reflection in the heavily shielded glass. "Come on, Alex, think." This wasn't any different than any other job, really. He was setting out to find something no one else had found. Sort of. Okay, something very few had ever found. But how hard could this be? He was used to finding things other people considered out of reach. All you had to do was take it one step at a time. Just like mapping out a route through a nebula.

"Right." Alex rolled his eyes and got up to use the bathroom. After washing his hands, he splashed cold water on his face and stared at the dripping reflection in the mirror. "You really don't know where to start, do you?" Not one clue. He splashed more water on his face and watched the drops fall back to the sink. "Okay, one step at a time." At least there was no competition this time. No other ships to beat to some destination. And he had an advantage with Evan right here.

"Okay, so start with what you know." He pulled a towel down and dragged it roughly over his face. There was some irony. Until the day he met Evan, he hadn't even believed, let alone known about any Sha'erah. But now he did. So, he had a place to start. Evan must know something of where he came from, even if he didn't realize it. Trouble was, he said he was five when Spencer took possession of him. How much did anyone remember from that long ago?

Zane had researched them for years, so he had to have some information Alex could build on. "It's a start." Alex flipped off the bathroom light and wandered back to the bed. He really should get some sleep, it was after midnight.

In the morning, he'd go over with Zane what he'd learned in his years of research. The doctor was getting his data together for them, full disclosure such as it was. "That'll be a first." Alex pushed the blankets aside and fell onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Could he really trust the man to tell him everything he knew, and not hold anything back? He'd been able to trust him so far, but that inquiry regarding the Ascalon's price had shaken his confidence.

"God, Alex, you've become a real paranoid, you know that?" Evan was right. He was paranoid, plain and simple. Everyone couldn't possibly be out to get him. Could they? After all, he hadn't lost his entire crew, just a large chunk of it. And while his mother was supremely annoying and self-centered, she hadn't betrayed him like his father had. Paulson Carpenter had been lying to him for years, but he knew the truth now. The man couldn't possibly expect anything from him in the future.

As his body tried to relax into sleep, Alex felt a slight chill come over his legs. He kicked both feet under the blanket and dragged it up to his waist, then hammered a fist into the pillow. The pills Dr. Zane had given him for his recent migraines were on the small table, along with a glass of water. He sighed, considering the possibility of Evan being kept awake by his inability to shut off his thoughts. Resigned, he opened the bottle and swallowed the required number of small pills, then lay back and waited for the inevitable drifting sensation.

Seconds after he realized he was falling into the soft respite of sleep, the morning chime was insisting it was hours later. Alex rolled over and stared at the chronometer, willing it to be wrong. Damn. From now on, he was going to give Evan the sleeping pills. There was nothing worse than dragging your brain and body out of a drugged sleep that hadn't started until midway through the night.

With a deep sigh and gritted teeth, Alex threw the blanket off and stumbled out of bed, heading for the bathroom. It was like a hangover without the headache, but he knew a shower and coffee would shake it off. He just needed the will to get that far.

After his teeth were clean he felt slightly more human. The shower helped finish off the transformation, so when he faced his reflection in the steamed mirror, it wasn't quite as horrific as he'd expected.

His stomach urged him to hurry, so he shaved quickly and found clean clothes, then headed out to the main living area in search of breakfast. As usual, Evan was there, already setting plates of food onto the table.

"Did you sleep okay last night?" Alex finished buttoning his shirt as he sat down. He couldn't help noticing the slight droop in the Sha'erah's eyelids as he set the last plate on the table.

Evan shrugged. "Not bad. Had a little trouble waking up this morning, though."

Alex wondered how much of that was his fault. "I didn't know if I was keeping you awake last night or not, but around one o'clock I took a couple of those pills." He shook his head and reached for the coffee. "I've had enough of those, I can tell you."

"The headaches are gone?" Evan didn't seem to care that his own sluggishness was his Keeper's fault.

Alex nodded, swallowing. "Haven't had one in almost a week." He waved his fork in the air. "I was just tired, and couldn't get Spencer out of my head, that's all. A couple of good nights' sleep and it was all taken care of."

"You're sure that's all it was?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." Alex concentrated on his breakfast to avoid any mental image of his father again. Memories of what he'd done still sent chills through his body. At night, he could hear the echoes of the Vision exploding in the silence of space.

Alex cleared his throat. "You said you remembered a room where you were taught the rules . . . Do you remember anything else back then?" He glanced at Evan and saw the man's jaw clench momentarily. A second later, he relaxed and shook his head.

"No, not really."

"Not really?"

Evan sighed, looking at the steam rising from his cup. "I remember . . . There were a lot of machines around, I think. No teachers, just programs running all the time. Lots of memorization." He looked up and met Alex's gaze. "We were either there in that one room or sleeping." He shrugged. "I think some of what we learned was done then, while we slept."

"Subliminal training?" Alex had heard of that, but it was outlawed."I remember reading about something . . . The military tried that once, centuries ago. It worked so well they . . . " he swallowed. He remembered how the military had used subliminal training on a group of soldiers, but it worked so well, they'd ended up creating mindless fighting machines, incapable of thinking on their own, or disobeying any orders given by a superior. "They had to stop, I think, 'cause someone abused the idea. Typical military cover up type stuff." Alex shrugged and kept his eyes on his coffee, hoping Evan didn't read his expression.

"All I know is I was there, then I was with Spencer." Evan started clearing the empty plates. "Even if I could remember a face, or anything about the rooms, it wouldn't lead us to the source. It's a big universe."

"Yeah." Alex finished his coffee, then refilled the cup at the dispenser. He turned around to lean against the wall while Evan shoved the dishes into the receptacle. "Still, there is a source. You came from somewhere, and someone did the teaching. Zane must have some information we can use."

"I've looked at his files, there's not much there."

"He's met other Sha'erah, at least."

"So have I, that doesn't mean much."

"It's more than what I have."

Evan shook his head once and leaned against the counter. "All the Sha'erah he met had been sold at least once."

"Which means what?"

"It means the Keepers Zane knew bought their Sha'erah from other Keepers."

Alex raised one eyebrow in slow understanding. He sighed heavily and fingered the ring while he thought. "So, Zane never knew anyone who ordered a Sha'erah directly?" And he'd killed the only man he knew who had. Still, there had to be someone around who knew how to make contact with a dealer. "Okay, there has to be a logical way to figure this out."

"Does there?"

He ignored the comment and pushed away from the wall so he could pace around the living area. "You guys are expensive. Really expensive. And not exactly illegal."

"Of course not." Evan remained where he was, leaning on the counter with both arms crossed in front of his chest, watching Alex.

"So, if something's only available to the rich elite, you don't go to dark bars on the bad side of town to make a deal."

"You don't find dealers listed in the planetary directories, either."

"Question is, do the buyers make the contact, or the dealers?" Alex kept spinning the ring around his finger.

"Who usually makes deals for the rich?"

Alex looked up. Evan's question seemed as if it wasn't just tossed out, but actually expectant. A slow awareness was beginning to dawn. "Lawyers."

"If you can't find an original buyer, maybe you can find his middle-man."

Something tugged at the back of Alex's mind. Something he didn't think he wanted to pay attention to. "Did Zane do any tracing? Figure out who bought who from who?"

Evan shrugged. "I didn't see where he had, but I didn't read it all yet. We'll have to ask him."

Alex shook his head, dismissing the thought that flashed by. "That's probably no good. These buyers must be worlds away from each other, spread all over the galaxy. They're not likely to have any one person in common."

"Don't look at it that big." Evan unfolded his arms and stepped forward. "It's not the galaxy you're looking at."

Alex blinked, staring at the Sha'erah. He found it hard to keep up with the changes in direction their conversations frequently took, but more often than not, the detours led somewhere.

"If you find one dealer, or one buyer, you'll find a way to get to the source."

"Right, but how do I find one?"

Evan held his gaze for a long, quiet moment. "You know one."

Alex blinked. "Spencer's dead, Evan."

"Paulson Carpenter isn't."

When a slight breeze from the air circulation vents hit Alex in the mouth, he realized it was hanging open. He licked dry lips and swallowed. Miranda's words echoed inside his head. My father had one when I was young. "How do you know he didn't buy from another Keeper?"

Evan shrugged. "I don't, but the signs are there."

"Signs?"

He sighed and walked to the couch, but stopped when he reached one arm and sat on that instead, facing Alex. "I'm not sure if it's true, or just something Spencer made up. But when Harvey's Sha'erah was killed, I heard him saying he could never order another one."

"Order another one? You mean, he couldn't buy another one from wherever it is you all come from?" Alex pondered that idea. "But then, he wouldn't want to, would he? A new Sha'erah would be, what, five years old?"

Evan didn't reply.

"You're telling me, at five years old, you were fully capable of doing whatever Spencer wanted?" His blood grew cold. Harvey had owned an assassin.

"Capable, but not experienced. But Spencer said since Harvey's first Sha'erah was killed, he could never order another. If he wanted another Sha'erah, he'd have to buy one from another Keeper."

Alex felt sick, deep inside. Someone out there not only created human beings that could be bought and sold at will, but they had first-time buyer's rules? And all this went on in full view of anyone willing to see it. Which he hadn't, up until nine months ago. "That doesn't necessarily mean Carpenter bought his directly. He might have run out of money, and that's why he never bought a replacement."

Evan shrugged. "There's only one way to find out."

Carpenter. Alex shook his head and started pacing again, feeling the anger welling up inside. Paulson Carpenter had been in on this from the beginning, working for Spencer all along. He hadn't offered to fund the trip to the nebula because it was a good business venture and Alex stood the best chance of winning. He'd done it because Spencer told him to. Even back on the Terria Rose, when Alex was traveling to Cryian for the reading of his father's will, Paulson Carpenter had known the plan. Had Miranda been part of it, or was she just as ignorant as Alex had been for so many years?

"Are you going to be okay with this?" Alex walked to the couch. "We don't know what we're going to find, if we're successful. But whatever it is, nothing's going to change."

Evan looked away, shrugging slightly.

"Look, you don't need it, but you have my permission to express an opinion." Alex wasn't sure if he was hoping his friend would ask that they not do this, or agree it was a good idea. He knew finding the answers wasn't going to be worth losing what they'd fought so hard to gain. But he needed to find a way out from under all the mystery. Just this once.

Now it was Evan's turn to pace. He pushed away from the couch arm and walked halfway to the door before turning around. "You watched your own life turn upside down when what you thought was real turned out to be lies." He stopped and looked at Alex, black eyes sparkling in the room's white lights.

"You're right," Alex felt the heavy weight of that reality pressing in on his mind. "Everything I thought was true, was a lie. It wasn't easy, and sometimes I wish I was still ignorant." He shook his head slowly and looked down at the ring on his finger. "But with your help, I got through it." He looked at Evan again. "I'm still getting through it. Knowing the truth, finally, is going to make me a better person." He knew, deep down, that was probably debatable. And if anyone had the balls to debate him on it, it was Evan.

"I'll have to get back to you on that."

Alex laughed shortly. "Perfect."

"So are you going to talk to Carpenter?"

"You're okay with this?"

Evan paused, then nodded very slightly. "With your help."

Alex smiled. It was another small step in the right direction. Though he wasn't at all sure what he'd do if and when Evan stopped thinking like a slave altogether. "I'll talk to Carpenter."

That turned out to be harder than he expected. Finding the man wouldn't be all that hard, but for Alex, finding it in him to look was. He figured the best stall was a visit with Doctor Zane, so he told Evan it would be better to interview the doctor, rather than simply reading his journals.

"People tend to remember different things when they're talking." It was a line, but Evan seemed willing to accept it.

Doctor Zane still resided in the Ascalon's crew quarters, staying on as the ship's physician as long as he was needed. That had changed the day he realized he could afford to purchase the ship out from under Alex, but the contract they'd drawn up would prevent that from happening.

"Did you get the files?" Zane smiled at the men as they sat, then offered them coffee. "I gave Evan full access to my PDA, everything I had collected through the years."

Alex raised one eyebrow and glanced at Evan, surprised the doctor had given up all rights to any privacy. "Don't worry, Doc, I believe you." As shocking as it was to find out Zane had investigated the ship's lease, he'd since gotten over any suspicions of the man. "Evan gave them a go-over already. I just wanted to chat a bit, see if there's anything you might know that you didn't think to write down." He caught the glance Evan threw his way and ignored it. "You said you'd met five other Sha'erah over the years, but there's no mention of where their Keepers obtained them?"

Zane shook his head. "Sadly, no. None of the five were the original owners, and they weren't exactly forthcoming about who they'd made the purchase from. Sha'erah aren't exactly like other collections, Alex. There isn't a list of who owns which one, or even which ones there are. People tend to make these transactions very privately, and withhold the names of both parties. I presume due to the amount of money involved."

"Did you ever try to buy one?"

Both Zane and Alex looked at Evan.

"No, unfortunately that wouldn't have worked. You see, I was known. Even on planets I'd never been to before, word of who I was and what I wanted seemed to reach everyone involved before I did."

"The rich know each other well." Alex fingered the ring with his thumb. "And, all things considered, they'd know me, too." He wouldn't be surprised if every Keeper alive today know all about Spencer's little trick. His bet with Signus Harvey must be legendary by now. "Going under cover isn't going to be possible. Evan can't hide who he is, and they'd see me coming a mile away."

"Besides, no Keeper buys a second Sha'erah." Evan shook his head. "Who could afford it?"

"I can say that out of the five pairs I met, I'm relatively sure at least one of them can still be found together." Zane produced his PDA and turned the unit on, scrolling through files until he found the one he was looking for. "Regian Kellman, of Murcadia. A very wealthy man, his family founded the planet and now he owns it. His Sha'erah's name is Thomas." He looked at Alex. "I'm sure they're still together, since Regian owns an entire planet. He wouldn't have had need to sell, and I shouldn't imagine their lives are anywhere near as dangerous as the others."

Alex wondered if danger and deceit were some kind of prerequisite for buying a Sha'erah. "That's a start."

"What about Carpenter?"

Alex turned to look at Evan, eyes narrowing. "He doesn't own one now, this guy does."

"Paulson’s right here. Murcadia's two weeks away."

"This Kellman guy's got enough money to have connections Paulson couldn't even touch."

"You're stalling."

"You're pushing." They stared at each other, green eyes meeting black, until finally Alex turned to Zane. The doctor was watching the exchange with a slight smile on his face. "You see what I go through trying to communicate with this guy?" At least Evan spoke in front of Zane, so Alex didn't have to explain what it was like.

Not to be outdone, Evan turned his attention to the doctor. "He's impossible to understand."

Zane shook his head, smiling at them with extreme tolerance. "The two of you communicate perfectly well, if you ask me."

"Yeah, well," Alex stood, glancing down at Evan. "we seem to muddle through. So, first things first." He switched his attention back to Doctor Zane. "Your first assignment is to find us transportation out to Murcadia. Evan and I will see if Carpenter's even on Scotian right now."

Evan stood, arching both eyebrows. "If he is?"

"Then we'll see."

"There's usually a passenger transport headed in that general direction once a week. I'll see what I can book for us." Zane smiled, then winked once at Evan.

Alex just shook his head in resigned frustration and led the way out of Zane's office. Since the doctor was purchasing the Ascalon in payment for his and Evan's investigation, Alex granted him permanent residence on board the ship. Most of his crew came and went with each new job, moving out within weeks of docking as they took on new jobs with other ships, or vacationed on various planets until the money ran out.

They reached a lift and Alex pressed the call button, glancing at Evan standing beside him.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He punched the docking level and stood, holding a hand pole to maintain his balance during the drop. "Just thinking about Carpenter." Alex stared at the closed lift car doors and felt his jaw muscles tighten. "I grew up thinking he was an honorable, forthright, upstanding man. A pillar of society with enough clout and power to build that company from nothing into the dynasty that it is today." He shook his head abruptly, still looking at the crease where both doors met. "I used to respect that man."

"This is his loss, not yours." The doors opened and Evan stepped out.

Alex stared after him, then hurried to catch up. "His loss? You mean the Turbidium."

"Not just that." Evan continued to walk toward the main hatch where the Ascalon was connected to the massive docking bay. "You're still the best and fastest explorer in this section of the galaxy. He's lost the option to hire you for any other discoveries he wants for his company, insuring his loss from now on. He has to know that."

Alex considered his friend's words as they walked.

"That, and he's lost your respect." Evan shrugged. "It was his choice. He made the wrong one and he'll have to live with it."

"Well, you're a hell of a lot more charitable than I am. I just wanna kill him." They reached the end of the airlock tube and stepped out onto the deck of the Scotian orbital station inside the sealed monolith. Suddenly Alex's own words registered. "I didn't mean that literally."

Evan glanced at him, one eyebrow raised, but said nothing.

"Okay, so I wouldn't exactly be too upset if he met with some unfortunate accident, but I'm not asking you to do anything."

"I know you aren't, you said you wanted to."

"I do, but not literally." Alex sighed and searched the area for the nearest public directory.

"You know, if you don't want to meet with him, you can send me."

Evan's tone was so calmly matter-of-fact, Alex had to stop and look him in the eye to see if he might be hiding something. The black eyes meeting his could have hidden anything and never given a hint of what they knew.

"Tempting." Alex swallowed, then caught a glimpse of what he was looking for and started walking toward it. Sending Evan in his place to get information would certainly put the fear of God into the man, after what he'd done. Unless . . . "You don't think he could have worked for Spencer and not known it, do you?" They reached the kiosk, but Alex paused before calling up the planetary pages.

Evan didn't answer right away, and seemed to be focused on something else for a moment. Finally he gave one shoulder a slight lift. "It's possible."

Alex made a slight snort of disgust. "That's not what I wanted to hear."

"Look what Spencer accomplished, right under our noses." Evan's normally dark expression grew even darker. "I was his Sha'erah, since childhood. And even I didn't know he owned Carpenter's business, let alone even knew the man."

A sudden twinge of guilt tugged at Alex's conscience. He could imagine Evan's guilt simply by the look on his face, and realized the Sha'erah must feel just as guilty and betrayed as he did. Well thanks, Dad, for screwing usbothover so thoroughly. To cover his discomfort, Alex pointed to the input pad. "Carpenter's private residence won't be listed."

Evan nodded and placed his left palm over the pad. Within seconds, a number appeared on the screen, with a impetuously blinking warning that they were viewing private information.

"Thanks." Alex copied the number into his PDA, then dialed. "It's busy."

"I can cut in," Evan offered.

"No, I'll leave a message. I want the upper hand this time." Alex quickly reviewed possible meeting places in his head, then settled on one he thought would do. When the option opened up on the screen, he accepted and looked into the recorder. "We need to talk. Meet me at the Scotian Arms, in one hour. Don't make me come looking for you." He typed in a time, then added the verbal confirmation. "Deliver message five hours from now."

"Affirmative." The polite, mechanical voice chirp.

"Why so late?"

Alex shoved the PDA back into the inside pocket of his jacket and grinned. "Cause right now, we're going to go see Mother again."

Evan's expression was clearly readable this time as astonishment and confusion vied for his face. "Your mother? Why?"

"I want to know all she knows about Carpenter, and everything else, for that matter." Alex nodded toward the shuttle docks, still grinning mischievously. "Besides, if I'm going to rip Paulson a new one, I need to practice being a hardass. Who better to practice on?"

"I think that's debatable."

Evan strode purposefully toward the nearest dock with a shuttle ready to load while Alex once again found himself staring after the man. With a short laugh, he caught up. "It's debatable that I need to practice, or that mother's the best training ground?"

"Have you always been that defiant around her?" Evan neatly avoided answering the question as he boarded the shuttle.

"Defiant?" Alex slipped into the seat opposite the Sha'erah and shrugged. "That wasn't defiance, yesterday morning. I was just frustrated."

The shuttle was only half full, but the passengers onboard had all noticed Evan. Already they were switching between outright stares and embarrassed attempts not to look. It frustrated Alex almost as much as Evan's silence in the company of strangers. He knew he could continue his side of the conversation, and use the Sha'erah's inherent refusal to speak in so much mixed company as his own conversational advantage. But he also knew himself well enough to realize how much that would add to his growing anger.

One businessman accidentally caught Alex's eye as he pretended to be glancing around the passenger compartment for the nearest exit as the recorded safety program droned on. It took every bit of willpower he had not to read the man the riot act. Alex pursed his lips with the effort not to speak, then focused all of his concentration on the silver ring as he twisted it around his finger.

By the time the shuttle landed, he was surprised he hadn't accidentally twisted the silver metal right off.

"How can you stand that?"

Evan glanced around as they exited the transport. "What?"

"Them." Alex waved a hand at the backs of the other passengers as they moved on about their business. "The way they stare at you all the time."

"They don't all do that. Only the ones who know what I am, and just because they've probably never seen one before."

Alex made a face and flagged down a car. "That doesn't make it right."

"I didn't say it was right, but it's normal. I'm used to it."

"And that makes it okay?"

"Is this about people staring, or your mother?"

Alex pulled the back door of the car open and pointed. "Just get in." He hated being so transparent. Was that what made it so easy for other people to take him for a ride? "Driver, we need number twelve Amber Street."

The driver nodded and pulled easily into the light traffic. Alex sat back and stared out the window at the various other vehicles and buildings they passed. The sun was shining, declaring an early summer much to the delight of the residents, promising grand vacation weather for the crewmen and women of the Ascalon who called Scotian home. Alex knew he probably could have negotiated a vacation and still accepted the job for Zane, but he didn't want to put this off. There was an urgency about it he could feel bubbling under the surface, a need to resolve the mystery of the Sha'erah once and for all, before he felt he could do anything else. Including relax.

"Why the Scotian Arms?"

"What?" Alex looked up and realized Evan had raised the privacy screen between the driver and passengers, creating a sound proof environment.

"The Scotian Arms. Is there a reason you picked that as a meeting place?"

Alex shrugged. "It was kind of an unconscious choice, really. It's in the higher class section of town, but right in the middle of a neighborhood owned by a rival company." He glanced out the window to judge their location.

"Good idea." Evan nodded appreciatively. "An atmosphere he's comfortable with but a setting where he'll have few allies. You've given this some thought."

Alex looked up at Evan, surprised. "Actually no, I didn't. But I suppose I should. I'm not even sure I can face him without getting violent."

The Sha'erah's eyes flashed with suppressed anger. "You should let me deal with him. He probably won't be any help anyway, considering."

God, it was tempting. Just let Evan meet up with Carpenter in some back alley somewhere, and give the man his due without having to see him. Or at the very least, let him scare some humility into the double-crosser, put the fear of God into him, maybe scare out the information they were hoping to find.

Okay, so what does that say about you? You're really that willing to ask something like that of Evan, just because you know he would?

"No, I need to do this." Alex swallowed, looking down at the ring around his finger. Evan was the only one who hadn't betrayed him. The only one he trusted, with anything. It didn't matter that he wore the ring of a Keeper, not any more. That wasn't why Evan did what he did, or was the person he was. He couldn't ask Evan to do his dirty-work and still live with himself.

"I'm not letting you meet with him alone, just so you know." Evan's tone was unswerving.

"I know. And I'm counting on that."

The car arrived, pausing at the security monitor where Alex announced himself. With only a slight hesitation, the gates opened and allowed the car access to the long driveway. They climbed out, and Alex asked the driver to return in three hours. He couldn't possibly tolerate his mother longer than that, and they had an appointment in the city.

Alex felt the familiar irritation creeping up the back of his neck as he approached the large, white doors. There was a headache he got every time he was near his mother, a pain between his eyes and in the muscles of his jaw that would linger throughout the day, especially if they had one of their arguments. He hadn't intended for that to happen the other day, but her attitude toward Evan, especially then, set him off into one of his moods.

Before he could reach the large, gilded handle of the door, it opened far enough for Sylvester to glide out. The robot adjusted its height so the two visual inputs were level with Alex's eyes.

"I'm afraid Madame Duvia is not in at this time, Alexander. Shall I record a message for you?"

"No thank you, Sylvester." Alex brushed past the hovering machine and entered the house. "When will she be returning?"

"I'm afraid not until this evening." Sylvester hurried in behind the men, then halted directly in front of Alex in a vain attempt to slow his progress. "She didn't tell me you'd be calling."

"That's because I didn't tell her." Alex glanced around the vast entryway, then held out one hand. "Discount." Sylvester instantly shut down and dropped from the air, landing neatly on Alex's open palm. He tossed the mechanical butler to a couch. "Never did like that thing."

"It's just doing its job," Evan scolded. "Do you want me to call another car?"

Alex shook his head, then heard his stomach growl slightly. "Nah, we might as well hang out here as anyplace. You hungry?" He didn't wait for an answer but noticed Evan hurrying to catch up as he wandered through the large house in the direction of the kitchen.

It was a massive room, cold and uninviting with every cooking surface and storage unit known to mankind. And, as usual, quite well stocked. Evan started for one of the cupboards but Alex waved him away.

"Uh-huh. It's my turn. Just have a seat."

"But . . . " Evan stood there, one hand still raised, unsure of what to do.

"No buts." Alex had to grin at the expression he was being awarded. He put a hand on Evan's arm and pushed him toward a chair at the long, low table used for chopping and mixing when the counters filled. "I'm serious. I don't think I've fixed a meal in, what, nine months?" Actually, it was more like nine years, considering. "I owe you at least one."

"You don't owe me anything." Evan's eyes flashed again and his jaw set defiantly. "I am -- "

"Hungry." Alex interrupted. He pointed to the table. "Sit!" Before the Sha'erah could complain again, he turned his back on the man and began searching the pantry. "You know, my mother hasn't ever set foot in this room. I'm not sure she knows where it is." He found plenty of meats in the refrigerated unit, then went in search of some cheeses. It looked like she'd recently entertained, and the kitchen was still well stocked with prepared leftovers. Just as well, since his cooking left a lot to be desired. Making Evan his first meal without benefit of the catering units onboard the Ascalon would be soured if he had to get too creative. Sandwiches, salads, the occasional slab of animal flesh cooked over a flame. Those were his limitations. He was willing to bet Evan had none.

"Madame Duvia entertains often, but only hires help for those occasions. The rest of her meals are dependent on Sylvester."

"That thing has no arms."

Alex laughed, nodding. "I know. Just a few stylus projections. But that's all he needs for dialing up a delivery. So half this food goes unused if the hired help doesn't help themselves." He found several selections of cheeses and pulled each one out to stack on the large tray he was loading up. "Looks like they didn't get too greedy last time."

"You don't like your mother much, do you?"

Alex's face flushed. He shrugged, his back to Evan. "I dunno. I used to, for the most part. She just has this ability to get under my skin, you know?"

"No, not really." Evan returned to the counter and picked up the large tray Alex had loaded, then carried it to the table while his Keeper searched for the breads. "She's always been like this, hasn't she?"

"All my life." Alex found the breads and condiments, then remembered to look for the leafy greens he enjoyed on all of his sandwiches. "When I was a kid, it didn't seem to bug me."

"But something changed." Evan took the jars and containers from Alex's arms so he could go back for drinks.

"Yeah, I grew up." He found several different brands of beer and picked out four of his favorite, then carried them to the table and sat down. "And she didn't." Alex waved Evan's hands away from the bread and started cutting thick slices. He might only be making sandwiches, but he was determined to be the one making them. "I guess when I was younger, all this pretense didn't bother me so much. Hell, it was fun. I benefited from being in the best circles, going to the best schools." His knife mangled a slice of bread so he started over. "That's how I know Paulson Carpenter."

"He's known you all your life?" Evan held the large loaf steady for the second cut, which was a success. "Did he know Spencer Marcase was your father, even then?"

"Yep." Alex had to concentrate not to let his anger ruin the rest of the loaf. He finished cutting the slices and set the knife down in preference of something less dangerous for the condiments and cheeses. "I used to think he was so cool, knowing who my father was and not holding that against me. Ironic, isn't it?" He handed Evan the first sandwich and began making his own.

"How did he know?"

Alex shrugged. "I dunno, he just always did." He could sense trouble brewing on the edge of his memory, as if the conspiracy went even deeper than he already knew. One quick glance at Evan showed him the Sha'erah was considering the same possibility, but appeared reluctant to voice it.

"It could be that more people than you realize knew." Evan seemed to take a different tone on purpose, as if he willingly wanted to change the subject before they could discover anything more. "Spencer's name was well known, just not mentioned on nicer planets like this one."

It was as good an explanation as any, and one Alex was more than willing to accept. He opened two of the beers and pushed one toward Evan. "I can't drink four of these." It occurred to him he rarely ever saw the Sha'erah drink alcohol of any kind. "They're good brands, not very strong but flavorful."

Evan accepted the beer cautiously and read the label before taking a sip. With a half shrug, he nodded. "It's not bad. But if you like these, there's a brand found on Norwany III you'd like. Rare, expensive, and illegal in a lot of systems. They use it as currency in some places."

"Really?" Alex raised one eyebrow. "I never would have figured you for a connoisseur."

"I'm not," Evan quickly added. "It's just . . . Your father used it sometimes to entertain a guest or impress someone now and again. He sent me out to locate a case or two now and again. There's really no reason for it being so expensive or rare, it's easily manufactured and not complicated at all."

Alex raised his bottle in a toast. "Well here's to supply and demand."

"It's ridiculous economics." Evan made a snort of disgust and returned the toast. "But it seems universal."

"Yep. That's how the rich stay rich and the rest of us work for them."

"Alexander, I wasn't aware you'd come visiting," Sylvester glided into the room, spinning its optical sensors from Alex to Evan and back again. "Madame Duvia is - - "

Alex held out a hand. "Discount." He set the machine on the table when it fell silent again. "Only works for an hour at a time."

They ate lunch and discussed the pros and cons of various planetary economics. It was the best way for Alex to keep his mind off his meeting with Paulson Carpenter and the issue of how he was going to handle himself. Evan seemed perfectly willing to play along, and explained the details of the brewing process of the rare brew Spencer often used, as well as he was able. When they finished, Alex shoved the leftovers back into their proper places, picked up the last of his beer, and offered Evan a tour of the house.

"You grew up here?"

They were walking up the massive, curved staircase to the second level, passing copies of expensive pieces of art along the way.

"Well, I was raised here." Alex looked at a painting as he passed, wondering if it was new or not. "I think the jury's still out on if and when I grew up." He caught a quick flash of Evan's reflection in the surface of the frame and could have sworn he saw a grin being quickly erased. "I used to slide down this banister head first, when mother wasn't home, of course."

They reached the top of the wide stairs and Alex turned to the left. The hallway was equally wide, and almost painfully white from carpet to ceiling. Heavily gilded curtains hung from every window, smothering the light before it could reach inside. Looking around the house now, it was hard for Alex to believe he'd been a kid here. Running around with dirty knees, taking Sylvester apart to see what made him hover. Even living surrounded by all this white and staying sane didn't seem possible to him now. Maybe that was one reason he got so irritated with his mother, he couldn't stand her home anymore.

"Which room was yours?" Evan scanned the hallway and the multiple doors on either side, all white.

"This one, to the left." Alex pointed, then opened the door. "It's just a guest room now."

They walked into another white room with gold accents. One large bed dominated the space, lightly canopied with a thin, white netting wrapped elegantly around the four posts rising up from each corner. There were thickly cushioned chairs in every corner, a discrete door on the far side that led to the private washroom, and large, curtained windows with a view of the wooded park in the distance.

Evan walked through the room to the windows and looked outside, then glanced around the room shaking his head. "I thought most parents kept . . . " He looked at Alex. "Things. Stuff from their children."

Alex laughed shortly and sat on one of the chairs. "Most do, I guess. Ever since marriage contracts and child rearing became vogue again a few hundred years ago. But mother never could get the hang of that, no matter how chic it was." He shook his head and looked around. "No, the day after I moved out she had this room remodeled. Not that I minded, though." With one arm, he indicated the entire house. "There's only so much white you can stand."

It occurred to Alex he'd been complaining about something Evan never had the chance to experience. It also occurred to him just how incredibly opposite the Sha'erah looked to him in Madame Duvia's starkly white house. Alex was never one to wear white, leaning typically toward the blues and greens. But Evan, standing there in the white carpeted house with white walls, white furniture, looked so much the opposite of what Alex had known most of his life, it was startling.

The fun they could have had as kids, running around this house causing havoc! Evan was only about three years younger, at the most. Spencer must have ordered him the very year he'd left.

"The car will be here in five minutes."

Alex looked up and realized he'd drifted into a mental fog. "Yeah, right." With a resigned sigh, he stood and left the room. "Paulson’s never seen you before, has he?"

"Alexander! I wasn't aware you'd arrived," Sylvester appeared suddenly, hovering in front of Evan.

Before it could utter another word, Evan held out his hand. "Discount." He set the machine gently on a cushioned chair while Alex chuckled and returned to the conversation without skipping a beat. "Not that I'm aware of. His name never meant anything to me." Evan followed Alex down the winding staircase. "But, he could still know who I am. I don't trust him."

"Well, neither do I." Alex quickly checked to make sure Sylvester was going to return to normal functions in another hour, then headed out the large double doors into the early evening sun.

"I mean tonight. How do you think he's going to react, knowing you know his secret?"

Alex stopped in the driveway and looked up at Evan. He had to squint against the sun streaming in through the trees, but when he did he could see the Sha'erah was seriously concerned. He knew he should be, too. "You mean, will he be angry and vengeful because the Turbidium isn't his?" Alex shrugged. "I don't know."

"That's what has me worried. You're meeting him against your own wishes, because you know how angry you are. But can we predict how angry he is?"

He was right, of course. Alex was thinking in terms of his own indignation and emotions, as usual, and not taking into consideration the other side of the story.

"I'd be happier if you'd let me meet with him, alone. Then bring him to you once I know he came alone."

"And you thought I was paranoid." Alex grinned, but had to hold up a hand quickly to prevent the immediate rebuttal he saw forming on Evan's face. "Before you refuse to even let me go, relax. I don't think he'd be stupid enough to try anything in a public place. And, more importantly, I think he does know you, or about you, well enough to know he'd be dead if he tried anything."

Evan seemed to consider that idea. "He did have a Sha'erah, you said?"

The car arrived, stopping so the passenger door was directly in front of Alex. He climbed in and gave the driver their new destination, then raised the privacy shield so he could continue the conversation and not end up speaking to himself.

"Yes, apparently he did."

"Good." Evan nodded decisively. "Then he'd know it would be suicide to try anything against you."

Alex found that observation both egotistical and reassuring. He could handle himself in almost any decent fight. But if someone simply wanted him dead, they'd probably succeed. "Okay, so why don't we keep you as my ace in the hole? Just hang back somewhere, not too far off, and we'll see how things go. That way Carpenter still won't know you by sight, just in case."

"If I like what I see when we get there, fine."

"This is one of those times you're just going to dictate what I can and can't do, isn't it?"

Evan looked puzzled. "Of course."

"Of course." Alex rolled his eyes and sat back in the seat of the car.

The trip across town took only twenty minutes in light traffic as most of the local residents made the commute home in the opposite direction. Scotian was a pleasant little planet, with a robust industry and strong economy largely supported by a vast ecological tourist network. They came mostly for the water sports and mountain climbing, but more and more people found the heavy forests and lack of any large natural predators to be a great temptation.

But Scotian also had its elite section, with shopping of the highest order, surrounded by restaurants and bars that were written up in all the major cruise line pamphlets. It was to this section of town they headed, into an area dominated by businesses built and operated by the Garnsey family. Paulson Carpenter's most powerful rival. Alex felt keeping the man away from his own section of town would help, but beyond that, he really hadn't given any of this much thought at all.

He wondered if maybe, deep down, he knew he didn't have to.

"If he's going to show on time, he'll be here in thirty minutes." Evan glanced around the area as they climbed out of the car.

The building Alex arranged the meeting in was the top level of a large restaurant, where patrons could sit and drink for social and business reasons in relative privacy. It was dark, an element Evan didn't like, but it also had only one exit, and very few places to hide.

Add to that the fact that it was less than half occupied, and Evan finally relented.

"How about you sit at the bar? That way he won't see you." Alex knew that decision was going to be up to the Sha'erah, since no matter what anyone told him about them following orders blindly, Evan hadn't yet.

"I'll sit at the bar, if you're at this table." Evan pointed to a small table not more than five feet from the corner end of the bar. "He'll have his back to me."

Alex nodded, happy just to have won that much. "Fine. Wish me luck." He started for the table with a slight shrug of his eyebrows.

"You don't need luck, you have me."

He stopped and turned, expecting to see Evan close to laughing, belying the complete seriousness of his statement. But he'd already turned to walk to the bar. "Right." Alex went to the table and sat, facing the bar with his back to a tall planter that was home to a wide palmed fern spreading up and out, offering good privacy for quiet conversations.

If Paulson did know anything, and wasn't keen on sharing, he could always have Evan get the information in his own particular fashion. And if Alex felt the need to pummel the man into the ground, he was confident the Sha'erah would at least keep him from succeeding. So it was true. He had no use for luck at all.

A waitress approached, and Alex ordered a glass of whiskey he had no real intention of drinking. It was either play with the glass and watch the ice move around, or twist the ring around his finger until the friction began to heat the metal. He was antsy and angry at the same time, and couldn't figure out which feeling should win the battle. When the whiskey arrived, he sat forward at the table, resting both elbows on the hard surface so he could stare into his reflection in the ice. It was his father's face again. Every time he got broody or angry, that was the face other people saw. Dark despite his green eyes, and somewhat rough due to the square jaw and slight touch of goatee that constantly developed in the hollow just below his lower lip. Lately he'd taken to keeping it there, since his mood had been just as rough these past several days.

Unlike Evan, Alex had to feel angry in order to look the part. Although, the Sha'erah's appearance seemed less and less strange to him these days. Really all that set him apart to the casual observer were the tattoos. The dark hair and black eyes, and constant use of the color black in every bit of his clothing could be any dark, dangerous man you wouldn't want to meet in any situation. It was only in getting to know him one realized he hardly ever smiled and took life way too seriously.

Alex looked at one cube of ice and saw Evan's distorted reflection. The lack of expression was a misnomer. He'd found the man to be full of feelings, as repressed as they might be. He damn sure had a sense of humor, if irony was your style. And for all the preaching about who was Sha'erah and Keeper, figuring out just which one of them was really in charge was another mystery!

He laughed shortly to himself and raised the glass in a toast. "You're quite the enigma."

"No one's called me that in a while."

Alex looked up, startled, and located the source of the feminine voice. He set the glass down and quickly glanced around the tall, slender woman. With a snort of disgust, he realized she'd come alone. "Just like your father to hide behind his daughter."

"Now, now, Alex." Miranda Carpenter slid gracefully into the empty seat without an invitation, then tossed her head elegantly so the red hair would shift off her shoulder. "It's not like that at all."

Alex could feel his blood boiling beneath the surface. He let his frustration show on his face, unconcerned that a woman of such wealth and breeding might take offense at such a masculine attitude. "Really? Nothing seems to be what I thought it was any more. Why don't you explain it to me?"

Miranda rested a hand delicately on Alex's arm. "But don't you see? Nothing's any different than it was, Alex. Nothing." She looked up, glancing over his shoulder. When she didn't find what she was looking for, her eyes darted around the room from side to side. "Except of course, for him." Still unsuccessful, she returned her attention to Alex and smiled. "Where is he, by the way? Is he here?"

Alex resisted the impulse to look up at Evan, still seated at the bar watching them closely. Miranda had looked everywhere she could without having to turn her head, so she'd missed the Sha'erah seated behind her. "Is that why he sent you?"

Miranda clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Really, Alex. Didn't you find life a lot simpler before you started wondering about all these little details?"

"That's all this is to you?" Alex glared at her and tightened his grip on the whiskey glass so she would feel the sudden anger reflected in the tension of his arm. "You knew all along that your father really worked for mine, didn't you?"

Miranda shook her head and for the first time broke eye contact. "No, I didn't, actually. Not until we heard about the accident. I'd found a few files that didn't make sense to me, and then it started adding up."

"It wasn't an accident, Miranda."

"It wasn't Father's fault, either. He worked for the man backing your ship, remember?"

Alex's features tensed with anger, as did his voice. "He worked for the man who caused that explosion. As far as I'm concerned, he's just as guilty."

Miranda fidgeted with the lay of her blouse. "He didn't know, he promised me he didn't know." She looked back up, meeting his eyes. "Look, Alex, I thought my father was the be-all-end-all in the business world. I found out he's really just a high paid employee, and who his boss is. Or was. He's . . . Spencer Marcase is dead, isn't he?"

Alex had to grind his teeth long enough to contain his anger. He looked away and saw the reflection of his father's face in the ice. "He's dead."

"Then, my father is his own man. Now, anyway." She leaned forward, resting her hand on his arm again and smiling as if all was suddenly quite well. "So you see, there's nothing more to worry about."

Alex shook his head sharply and sat back, pulling his arm out from under Miranda's hand. "So that's it for you? It's that easy to just ignore everything your father did, all the lies, and go right back to life as usual?"

"Yes, it is." She sat back as well, setting her arms on the chair's rests. "Don't you see, Alex? Nothing is different. You've respected my father all this time, and all this time he's been working for your father."

Alex started grinding his teeth very slightly again, flexing the muscles of his jaw.

"And all that time, you were happily ignorant. We both were. And now, nothing has changed aside from your perspective."

"So it's only a lie if you find out about it?" This whole situation was so ironic. Every word she was saying was true. It had all being going on for years and years, probably since before he was born, so nothing had changed. Only now, he knew. And now that he knew, he was responsible for that information. And for his own actions regarding it.

"It doesn't change any of the facts, Alex. It doesn't change my father, or his respect for you. Why should it change your respect for him?"

It must be the money. She was raised surrounded by it. And not the false pretense of it like he was, but the real thing. That had to be what was insulating her from a normal, human reaction. Or at least what Alex felt should be a normal, human reaction. "Eighty-six people died, and you think I should still respect your father?" Alex leaned forward again, glaring at Miranda. "If I had known the truth, those people would still be alive!"

"The truth about my father, or the truth about yours?"

The question made Alex blink.

"Are you angry at my father for having known and worked for Spencer Marcase? Or is this all just your own anger against your own father, Alex?"

"That's what this is about?" Of course, he should have known her concerns wouldn't range any further than her own interests. "You're only here to find out how angry I am at your father, aren't you? What my intentions are toward him. Is that it? None of this bothers you at all. The lies, the deceit, nothing? You were happy before you knew, so you figure you can just ignore it and continue along in your happy little life, unaffected by it all."

Miranda sighed. "Yes, Alex, you're right. I'm here to find out what your intentions are toward my father, and to try and talk some sense into you about all this. I think you're over- reacting. What's done is done. And you profited from the entire situation. You have your father's Sha'erah, Alex! He's worth more than the price of your ship and the Vision put together! My father was left with nothing, and he still paid your crew's wages. He's an honorable man."

Disgusted, Alex pushed his chair back and stood. "I came here to talk to Paulson. Where is he?"

Miranda reached up and took hold of Alex's left wrist. "Please, Alex, sit down. He isn't coming, not until I speak with him."

"Then we have nothing more to talk about." Alex glared down at her but didn't pull his hand away. "You tell him I need to see him."

"Why? So you can read him the riot act for doing what he's always done? What do you want with him, Alex?"

"I want information." Alex pulled his hand away then and glanced over her shoulder at Evan. The Sha'erah stood but stayed where he was. "He owes me that much."

Miranda nodded. "I'll tell him. But I can't make any promises."

Alex moved around the table and looked down at her as Evan stepped over to his side. "I'm not going to kill him, Miranda, if that's what you're worried about."

She turned in her chair to look at him in the dark bar, opening her mouth to speak. But her words were forgotten when she caught site of Evan standing there.

Alex tossed a credit chip onto the table to pay for the whiskey. "I don't work for my father."

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