gone absolutely still. It was a brick . Sealed in a plastene container. At first I thought it was a joke, but I'd seen the reaction of our guests. 'Atlantis?' asked Alex. Carmody smiled. 'From the Temple of Akiva. Rear courtyard. Removed in the thirty-second century by Roger Tomas, donated originally to the London Museum, and later taken to the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia. Eventually it wound up in Berlin. It's been around.' He reached into his jacket and removed a folded piece of paper. 'Certificate of authenticity, signed on behalf of the current owner.' He was facing Alex, but he was talking to Selotta and Kassel. 'I've gone over the bona fides thoroughly. A complete copy of the record is in the box.' He handed it to Alex. 'I hope it's satisfactory.' Nobody could ever say Alex was in the antiquities business purely for the money. Well, people had said it. In fact, they said it all the time. But it wasn't true. I'll concede he has an affection for the bottom line, but if you show him something like a vase that had once stood in Mesmeranda's villa, or maybe the chair that Remus Alverol had tossed across the room when news arrived of the massacre at Port Walker, his eyes positively lit up. That was what I saw at that moment, watching him gaze down at that brick. Placed by human hands in the courtyard of the goddess, probably on a sunny day like this one, twelve thousand years ago, removed forty-five centuries later by an archeologist who had himself become a legend. This was the single most valuable piece that we'd acquired in the four years we'd been in operation. And now he was about to-
- Give it away. He handed it to me. 'You were the one she took care of,' he said. And I passed it to her. 'It's yours, Selotta. For you and Kassel. I hope you'll keep it for yourself.' '-Rather than give it to the museum,' she said. 'Yes. It's for you . With our appreciation.' Carmody took pictures. Selotta, clearly flustered, shook her head in a human gesture and held up her hands to decline. 'I can't accept this, Chase,' she said. 'Not possibly. You and Alex arranged the tour for us. That's enough.' Alex was nothing if he wasn't a charmer. He smiled and glanced at Kassel. 'You're a lucky man to have so lovely a spouse,' he said. Kassel, perhaps surprised at being called a man, licked his lips with that long forked tongue in a gesture that suggested the details were wrong but it was okay. 'Please,' she continued. 'I can't imagine the price you must have paid. I can't let you do this.' 'It's okay, Selotta,' Alex said. 'It's something we wanted to do for you.'
The following day we caught the shuttle from Drake City and rode it up to Galileo. We had a farewell dinner in a Chinese restaurant. It was an era of occasional armed confrontations between Ashiyyurean and Confederate warships. While we dipped into the chicken and spices, an HV began to run a report of a new incident. A Mute ship had gotten too close to a Confederate world, and a destroyer had fired on it. The Mutes were saying it was an accident. The ship had gotten off course. In any case, no casualties were being reported by either side. That got us increased attention from the other diners. Kassel ignored it. 'Alex and Chase, you are welcome on Borkarat anytime. And we'd be happy to put you up at our place,' he said. We told him we'd bring some brew with us. We were leaving, too, of course. Headed back to Rimway. We paid up, this one on Kassel, who insisted. When Kassel insisted, he tended to sound as if he meant it. We took a last look at Earth. We were on the nightside, over Europe and Africa. Lights everywhere, from Moscow to the Cape. Electrical storms glimmered in the Atlantic. Here was where it had started. The great diaspora.
They were riding a diplomatic flight. We stayed with them until they boarded. They introduced us to a few of the other passengers, who were both Mute and human, and to the captain. Then it was time to go. We retreated back down the tube, they closed the hatches, and it was over. We made for the Belle-Marie , checked to make sure our luggage had arrived, and climbed on board. I went up onto the bridge, said hello to Belle, the AI, and began running my checkoff list. When I was satisfied everything was in order, I contacted the ops center and requested permission to depart. Minutes later we were on our way, gliding past the moon, adding velocity, and feeling pretty good. I could hear Alex talking in the cabin. Nothing unusual about that: He was having a conversation with Belle. We were looking at a four-hour flight, plus probably a day or two after we had made our transit out of hyperspace. It was a lot quicker than it would have been a few years back, when the Armstrong drive needed weeks to cover the same distance. I was making final heading adjustments before initiating our jump when I heard a third voice in the cabin. A woman's. Alex was checking his mail. I broke in. 'Alex, prepare for jump.' 'Okay,' he said. The last green light came on, indicating his harness was in place, and I eased us into hyperspace. Two minutes later he asked me to join him when I was free. I told Belle to take over, got out of my chair, and headed back. First thing I saw when I went into the common room was a female standing frozen, staring at Alex out of stricken eyes. It was a hologram, of course. She was young. Good-looking. Dark eyes and black hair cut short. She wore a white-and-gold blouse inscribed with the name HASSAN GOLDMAN above an arc of six stars. Something about her was familiar. 'Who is she?'
'Vicki Greene.' 'Vicki Greene? The Vicki Greene?' ' The Vicki Greene.' Vicki Greene, of course, was, and remains, an immensely popular novelist, a writer who specialized in horror and the supernatural. Voices in the night, demons in the basement: She'd made a substantial reputation by scaring the wits out of millions of readers across the Confederacy. 'I wasn't aware you knew her.' He lowered himself into his seat. 'I don't.' 'Okay. Pity. So it's a business thing. She wants us to find something for her?' 'Listen to this,' he said. He directed Belle to run the transmission from the start. The image blinked off, blinked back on. Greene looked at Alex, then at me, did an appraisal, and turned back to the boss. 'Mr. Benedict,' she said, 'I know this will strike you as odd, but I don't know who else can help me.' She was having trouble controlling her voice. 'Since you're not here, I'm asking your AI to forward this message. I'm in over my head, Mr. Benedict.' She was staring at him. Her turn to be terrified. 'God help me, they're all dead.'
Alex touched a control and froze her again. 'That's it,' he said. 'That's it ?' 'That is the sum of the transmission.' 'What's she talking about?' 'I don't know. I've no idea.' He took a deep breath. 'I'm wondering if we're looking at a woman in the last stages of a breakdown.' She had looked thoroughly spooked. 'Maybe she's been writing too much horror,' I said. 'It's possible.' 'And you've never met her?' 'No.' ' Who's all dead?' 'Don't know.' 'Maybe a bunch of fictitious characters.' I got coffee for both of us. 'You might want to recommend she see somebody.' 'It's been in the folder for several days.' 'That's because we told Belle not to disturb us.' He ran the artwork from her books. Etude in Black , which featured a young woman playing a stringed instrument in a spotlight while glowing eyes watched her from a dark curtain. Love You to Death , with a vulpine creature kneeling in sorrow at a grave site. Nightwalk , portraying a satanic figure in the clouds over a moonlit city. And three others with similar motifs: Wish You Were Here , Dying to Know You , and Midnight and Roses . 'What do you think?' 'Alex, she sounds like a lunatic.' 'She's in trouble, Chase.' 'You want my advice? Don't get involved.'
We couldn't send or receive a message while we were in hyperspace. We could have interrupted the jump, but there was really no point in that. So we waited until we arrived back at Rimway. Thirty seconds after we saw the stars again, he sat down and told Belle to record. 'Ms. Greene,' he said. 'I just received your message.' He stopped and looked in my direction. 'Chase, how far out are we?' 'About a day,' I said. 'Day and a half.' He turned back to his message. 'We've been away. I'll be in my office by the weekend. Meantime, if you want to talk to me, I'm within radio range now. Skydeck can put you through.' He sat quietly for several moments, then told Belle to send it and looked up at me. 'What's wrong, Chase?' 'Nothing.'
'Come on. Talk to me.' 'I think you should be more careful about getting involved in other people's problems. You're an antiquities dealer, not a psychologist.' 'If she's in trouble, I wouldn't want to walk away from her.' 'If she's in trouble she can call the police.'
