He swiveled, looking over his shoulder, as if someone was approaching. But there was nothing there. Nevertheless, he backed away from me. “Later,” he said softly.
“Hey! You can’t stay for five fucking minutes?”
I woke to the full glare from the daylights in the street outside blasting through my window, turning my narrow bed into a sweat box. I was gasping as I drew myself up against the headboard and clutched the damn sheet against my chest.
Noam had spoken to me! It was a coherent conversation. It even had some of the hallmarks of conversations we’d had in the past, where he irritated me and I sniped back. Our mother-son relationship had always run deep underground.
I shuddered. Only now that I was awake did I grasp the significance of the dream, the clarity with which I have been able to see him. Dreams weren’t supposed to be like that. They were fragmentary, fleeting impressions. Sub-conscious detritus, as incomplete and stained as a midden. Only Noam had been as clear as any hologram.
I used the corner of the sheet to dry my face, then cast it to the floor, stalked into to the tiny bathroom and took a long shower.
By the time I emerged from the shower, I was starving hungry once more. It seemed like I was always hungry these days. I remembered the phenomenon from previous rejuvenations. I also knew that eventually, the hunger would slow down.
My newly revised metabolism could handle it, so I was not stinting myself. Not yet.
Even though it was still very early, and Juliyana was still deeply asleep, I stood at the basic printer, and had it produce a breakfast a king would not be embarrassed about. I pushed aside the pads and the screen emitter on the table and dug in.
I was only halfway through the meal, my stomach still rumbling, when I discovered I should have stayed in bed. My pad dinged for my attention. It was a real-live phone call.
From Farhan.
I hovered my hand over the pad for nearly twenty seconds before I connected. After all, he was family.
Farhan’s brows shot up as the image assembled. “I honestly didn’t think you would take the call.”
“If you’re going to spend money on an interstellar phone call, it seems only polite to answer it.”
He was staring at me, taking in the details of my renewed appearance. I sat still, letting him look. After all, he had stared for years as my complexion faded.
“This is why you took the dividends?” he asked. “If I had known this was why you wanted the money, we could have come to an arrangement. You know the family has a scheme—”
“Which would tie me to the family barge for twenty-five years plus,” I shot back. “I’m sorry, but right now I need to be able to move freely.”
“I thought you had no interest in rejuvenating,” Farhan said. He was still staring at me, his gaze moving over different points of my face.
“I don’t suppose it will help if I tell you I will return the money later. Right now, though, I need to hang onto it. There something I must do.”
“You mean, whatever you and Juliyana are up to.”
“Yes.”
“I was really hoping you would be reasonable about this.” His voice was strained. “You know I have to drop the load on you for this. I’m accountable to directors and shareholders…”
I really hadn’t been expecting anything else. “You aren’t going to explain to me yet again about the family reputation and how I’m destroying it?”
“As you seem to have a complete lack of regard in that respect, I will not bother myself with a repetition,” Farhan said. “Although I will state that I am disappointed, Danny. I thought I knew you well. Apparently, I don’t.”
He glanced at the corner of his screen. “Ten seconds left. I will save myself the energy and the money, as you have absconded with the family spare—”
The call cut off. An alert flashed to say the channel had been closed.
I pushed the pad away. By rights, I should have lost all my appetite and pushed the breakfast away, too. Instead, I pulled the plate back toward me and finished everything.
By the time Juliyana came downstairs, possibly woken by the smell of crisp bacon and maple syrup, all the plates were empty. The coffeepot was half-empty. She poured herself a mug from what remained and drank deeply.
She studied my face and the tools of our search pushed carelessly aside. “What’s happened?”
“We’ll have to move on, today.”
She considered that, sipping coffee. “Okay, then.”
I looked up at the ceiling. “Did you take a long lease on this place?”
“Day by day, payable once a week. I paid six days ago, so we can leave without alerting anyone. I’m guessing from your expression that it’s time to use the new IDs.”
“You pack.” I stood. “For both of us. I’ll head for the spacer bars and see what passage I can pick up for us.”
“Where do you plan to head next?”
“Wherever the first reasonable offer is heading to.”
Juliyana upended her mug, draining the coffee. She tossed the mug at the recycle maw and straightened.
I grabbed my jacket once more and headed out into the street. I walked swiftly through the still, quiet suburb to the main station concourse.
It was my intention to hit all the bars and restaurants, brothels and storefronts where spacers liked to hang out when they were on-station. The owners of these places earned the gratitude and loyalty of spacers, because they acted as clearinghouses for information which could not be included in any data network.
The freight of the Empire was left in the hands of civilian cargo lines. They were supposed to hold carry cargo, for their ships were fast and regularly subjected the crews to high-gee conditions. For that reason, spacers, like the Imperial military, were required to keep up their crush shots.
It wasn’t long before enterprising ship captains realized they could sell empty space in their crew’s cabins to any
