Uncle Corwin had moved to his estate at the southern edge of Capitalia nearly thirty years ago, a week after his fifty-seventh birthday and less than two years after his political enemies had forced him out of his governorship. That loss had ended his political career, a life he'd led as long as Jin had been alive, and even after all these years she still couldn't think about that without feeling a twinge of guilt for her part in the whole thing.
Corwin didn't blame her, she knew. Never had, for that matter. But knowing that was only minor consolation.
The gate opened as she and Paul walked toward it. Either Corwin had set it on automatic or else someone inside was keeping close watch. "Did you ever get hold of Jody, by the way?" Jin asked as they passed the gate and started down the twinkle-lit walkway toward the dark, looming structure ahead.
"Yes, while you were showering," Paul said. "She doesn't know what this is about, either. But I do know she's been trying to talk Corwin into coming in on her side on this proposed Caelian trip of hers."
Jin grimaced. Caelian had been the third world settled by the Dominion colonists who had come here nearly a century ago, right after beachheads had been established on Aventine and Palatine. The first two worlds, despite occasional bumps along the way, had eventually become unqualified successes.
Caelian, unfortunately, hadn't.
The planet had a hundred different bitter-edged epithets among the Cobra Worlds' population, most of them variants on the words money pit, home of damn fools, or hellhole. Out of a high-water population of nearly nineteen thousand, only forty-five hundred still remained, all of them too stubborn or stupid to give up and move back to Aventine or to one of the two latest additions to the Worlds.
But though most Worlders had written off Caelian as a dead loss, not everyone had. Every year or two some group of young visionaries would surface with a new plan for dealing with the deadly plant and animal life that was so determined to choke mankind off their world. Jody's friends Geoff Boulton and Freylan Sonderby were merely the latest in that long parade of idealists. "If she thinks Uncle Corwin's going to help her visit Caelian, she's sorely underestimated his senility level," she said.
Paul shrugged. "Perhaps."
The estate's grounds were compact but well gardened, and Jin could smell the delicate scent of budding bablar trees as they walked toward the house. Some gardens of this sort included pools, fish ponds, even small waterfalls, additions Corwin hadn't bothered with.
So why then did he call it the Island?
No one in the family knew, but that hadn't kept them from speculating about it. Jin had always thought it was a reference to the ancient no man is an island aphorism, but had never been able to coax a yes or no out of her uncle. Jody's theory was that it was a reference to an old Earth classic book, while Lorne believed it to be a not-so-subtle jab at the five islands in the lake west of Capitalia and their rather snobbish inhabitants. Merrick, typically, hadn't bothered with the question, declaring that his great-uncle would tell them when he was good and ready.
Jin and Paul reached the house, to find Jody waiting for them just inside the main door. "Mom; Dad," she said in greeting. She was silhouetted against the hall light, but Jin's optical enhancers were able to pick out the tension lines in her daughter's face. "I hear you had a bad day."
"It could get worse," Jin warned her, "depending on what's happening with your project."
"I showed Geoff and Freylan my trap design today," Jody said. "They liked it."
"What about your application?"
Jody shrugged. "You know governments. These things take time."
"But Uy hasn't denied it?" Jin persisted. She'd been hoping against hope that Caelian's governor would shut down the project at his end.
"Sorry," Jody said.
"I think," Paul put in wryly, "the day's just gotten worse."
"It won't be that bad, Mom," Jody insisted. "We really do know what we're doing."
"Do you?" Jin countered. "Do you really?"
"Yes, we do," Jody said. Her voice was low and earnest, matured and reasoned.
And grown-up. Despite all her emotional expectations to the contrary, Jin couldn't ignore the fact that her little girl had grown up.
"I imagine we'll be discussing it further tonight," Paul said. If he was feeling the same surge of emotion, Jin thought resentfully, he was hiding it well. "Meanwhile, you have your mother and father standing out in the cold Aventinian evening air."
"It's not that cold," Jody said, a hint of her little-girl dry humor peeking out through the adult she'd become. Nevertheless, she stepped aside out of the doorway. "Come on in—dinner should be ready soon."
"Who's cooking?" Jin asked. "Uncle Corwin, or Aunt Thena?"
"Merrick, actually," Jody said. "He said that as long as he'd called this dinner, it was his responsibility to feed all of us."
"As long as it's Merrick and not Lorne," Paul murmured.
"Trust me," Jody promised. "No one wants the day to get that bad."
When Merrick had first become a Cobra seven years ago, Jin remembered fondly, he'd sworn the whole family to secrecy about his culinary skills. Not because he'd been afraid the other Cobras would rib him about it, but because he'd been on enough field maneuvers during training to fear that he might be designated official unit cook and chained to the stove while the others dealt with the real Cobra work. So far, he'd managed to keep his secret.
The dinner conversation was as pleasant as the food. Jody, who'd always been good at taking hints, avoided any mention of Caelian, instead focusing her end of the conversation on the last few remaining details of her upcoming graduation ceremony. Lorne, after once again confirming that his parents had emerged from the Sun Center trouble mostly unscathed, shifted his part to news of the expansion provinces and the various social and business doings out in those hinterlands, peppering each story with the dry humor he shared with his younger sister.
Merrick himself, Jin noticed, was being especially quiet tonight, carefully cutting precise pieces from his cacciatore and adding little to the table talk. At the head of the table, Corwin and Thena were equally restrained.
Finally, the meal was over. "Excellent, Merrick, as always," Corwin complimented the young man as the group stacked the dishes together. "A man who can cook will always be surrounded by friends."
"Thank you, Uncle Corwin," Merrick said gravely. "Coming from someone who gets to sample Aunt Thena's cooking on a regular basis, I count such praise very highly indeed."
"Diplomatic as always," Thena said with a smile. "Do bear in mind, though, that your uncle Corwin survived on his own cooking longer than he has on mine."
"Survived being the operative word," Corwin said, reaching over to take his wife's hand.
Jin watched them, feeling another twinge of guilt. Uncle Corwin hadn't married Thena until his fall from power, and while Jin couldn't see anything but good having come from their marriage, she still couldn't help wondering if Corwin saw the life of a husband and father as something of a consolation prize.
Especially now that their son Rave was himself grown and out of his parents' house. All Corwin had left was his wife, his home, and his memories.
"So cooking's the secret, huh?" Lorne put in. "I've always thought the best way to keep friends around you was to owe everyone money."
"Whatever works for you," Merrick said equably. "Speaking of debts, I did all the cooking. That means it's up to you two to go load the dishwasher."
"That seems fair," Corwin agreed. "Go ahead—we'll wait on dessert for you."
"Not a chance," Jody said, folding her arms across her chest. "I know this trick, and we're not falling for it. Whatever you and Merrick have cooking, Lorne and I are going to be in on it."
"Jody, that's no way to talk to your great-uncle," Paul warned.
"It is when he's trying to send us to the children's table," Jody countered. "In case some of you haven't noticed, the baby of the family is twenty-one now. We're full-fledged members of this family now."
"Which isn't to say there aren't things that concern one member and not another," Jin said.
"It's all right, Jin," Corwin said. "She and Lorne can stay."
"I respectfully disagree, Uncle Corwin," Merrick said firmly. "Not because we're trying to hide anything from you," he added, looking back at his brother and sister, "but because we're trying to protect you."
"I'm sure we both appreciate the thought," Lorne said. "But as a twenty-four-year-old, I sort of resent the implication that I need protecting." He looked over at his great uncle. "As a twenty-four-year-old Cobra, I definitely resent the implication."
"Resent it all you want," Merrick said. "We're not talking about jaywalking or disturbing the peace here."
"What are we talking about?" Lorne countered.
"Treason," Merrick said flatly.
Lorne seemed to draw back in his seat. "What?" he asked, his voice suddenly subdued.
"You heard me," Merrick said. "What we're talking about tonight is borderline treason."
"Only borderline?" Jody said. "Well, that's not so bad."
Merrick turned toward her—"It's all right, Merrick," Corwin said again. "Go ahead—give your mother the letter."
For a moment Merrick hesitated. Then, with a sigh, he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket. "I was unloading Jody's azaleas at the side of the house today when a courier came to the door," he said, pulling out a long, thin envelope. "He marched up to me and said, 'Cobra Broom?' I of course said yes, and he handed me this. I'm afraid I've already opened and read it." He held out the envelope toward his mother.
"Tell her the rest," Corwin murmured.
Merrick's lips compressed briefly. "The courier," he said, "was a Troft."
Jin froze, her fingers a millimeter from the envelope. "A Troft?"
Merrick nodded. "A Tlossie, I think. Like I said, I thought it was for me, so I opened it. Three minutes later, I was on the comm to Uncle Corwin."
Jin shot a look at Corwin as she took the envelope from her son. She opened it and pulled out the single slip of paper inside.
The note was short, consisting of just two handwritten lines in precise Qasaman script:
To the Demon Warrior Jasmine Jin Moreau:
Urgent you return at once to Qasama. Crisis situation
requires your personal attention.
There was no signature.
"What is it?" Lorne asked.
"Sort of a party invitation," Jin murmured, handing the note to Paul.
"It's what?" Lorne demanded. He half stood, reaching across the table and trying to snatch the note from his father's hand.
Without even looking in his direction Paul twitched the paper out of the other's reach, his forehead wrinkling as he read the note. Lorne stayed where he was, his hand outstretched, and after a moment his father handed it across to him. "Interesting," Paul said thoughtfully as Jody leaned close to Lorne to read over his shoulder. "I wonder how he got it to the Tlossies."
"How who got it to them?" Lorne asked, frowning at the note the same way his father had. "Who's it from?"
"Daulo Sammon, I assume," Paul said, cocking his head at Jin. "That is his handwriting, isn't it?"
"Actually, I don't know," Jin said, struggling to keep her mind focused as memories three decades old came flooding back. Daulo Sammon, Obolo Nardin and his treacherous Mangus plot, the earnest but deadly young Shahni agent Miron Akim—
"What do you mean, you don't know?" Lorne asked.
With an effort, Jin pushed back the memories. "The only thing I ever saw him write was an order at the family mines," she explained. "It was written very quickly, on a pad balanced on his arm in a blustery wind. I never saw what his writing looked like when he was being careful."
"On the other hand, who else down there ever knew your full name?" Jody pointed out. "It has to be Daulo, doesn't it?"
"There were a few others who knew my name," Jin told her. "But I doubt any of them would want to see me again."
"Except maybe for revenge," Merrick said.
"Thirty-two years later?" Jin shook her head. "Highly unlikely."
"But not impossible?"
Jin grimaced. "No."
"Let's try it from the other direction," Corwin suggested. "Any idea what the crisis situation might be that the note mentions?"
Jin snorted. "On Qasama? It could be any of a hundred things."
"Give us a couple of possibilities," Paul said.
"Well, there was a strong tension between the cities and the villages when I was there," Jin said. "Largely because the cities had mostly gotten rid of their mojos while the villages still held onto some of theirs."
"Using the birds as bodyguards?" Merrick asked.
"Partly that, and partly as added protection against the krisjaws and spine leopards," Jin said.
"Though if the plan worked, I would assume the mojos will have deserted even the villagers by now," Corwin reminded her. "And of course, once the local spine leopards all have them as symbionts, the predator attacks should also stop, making mojo bodyguards unnecessary."
"Lot of if and should in there," Lorne warned.
Corwin shrugged uncomfortably. "Life is uncertain," he conceded.
"Actually, I think the shift was already starting," Jin said. "But even if you write the mojos out of the equation it doesn't necessarily follow that the cities and villages will have started getting along."
"Witness the tension between our own cities and expansion regions," Merrick murmured.
"Exactly," Jin said. "And feelings and memories run a lot deeper on Qasama than they do here."
"What other possibilities for trouble might there be?" Paul asked.
"Like I said, it could be any number of things," Jin said. "Obolo Nardin's effort to subvert the Shahni with his Mangus Project might have had a resurgence somewhere. Some Troft demesne might be poking around Qasaman internal affairs again. Or someone might have been inspired by Nardin and be trying his own plan for revolt or subversion."
"So far, none of this sounds like a problem they'd want your help with," Lorne pointed out.
"Except maybe the Troft thing," Jody said. "The Qasamans can't know nearly as much about the ins and outs of Troft culture and politics as we do."
"Not necessarily," Jin said. "They've obviously made contact with at least the Tlossies." She gestured toward the paper Lorne was still holding. "Or at least Daulo has. And Qasamans learn very quickly."
"Yes, let's talk about the Tlossies for a minute," Paul said. "Merrick, did this courier say anything about how he'd obtained this note?"
"Not a word," Merrick said. "I had the impression he had no idea what the envelope was, that he'd simply been hired or ordered to deliver it. He did give me a card with contact information, but it wasn't for him personally."
"How do you know?" Lorne asked.
"The status curlies around the card's border didn't match those on his abdomen sash," Merrick explained. "Not nearly as elaborate, either, which means the card is from someone considerably higher in social rank."
"I spent an hour earlier trying to match the curlies to known Tlossie traders, but the search came up dry," Corwin added. "Whoever the card's from, he's apparently no one who's done serious business here."
"Have you tried contacting him?" Jody asked.
Merrick shook his head. "I assumed that whether or not we went that far would be up to Mom."
A brief silence settled over the room. Jin stared at the note lying beside Lorne's dessert fork, acutely aware of the precarious ledge she was now standing on.
The ledge all of them were standing on. Merrick's earlier warning that they were edging onto treason hadn't been hyperbole—the Cobra Worlds Council had imposed a strict interdiction on travel to Qasama, and they meant it. Even getting on a starship with intent to travel there could conceivably land Jin a multiyear prison term.
And the knowledge that she was planning such a trip could likewise land everyone in this room in that same prison on conspiracy charges.
But the legality of the matter wasn't really the question. The question was what was the right thing to do.
Qasama . . .
They were still waiting for her, she realized suddenly. "Well, it can't hurt to ask," she said, motioning to Merrick as she pulled out her comm. He hesitated, then slid a small business-sized card from his pocket and handed it to her. Jin glanced at the number and punched it in.
It was answered on the fifth ring. [The evening, it is good, Jasmine Moreau Broom,] a recorded Troft voice said, the alien cattertalk as crisp and precise in its way as the Qasaman handwriting on the brief note. [The voyage, if you intend to make it, will depart from Pindar three days from the delivery time of the package. All that is necessary, it will be provided.]
There was a click, and the connection was broken. "Well?" Paul asked as Jin closed the comm again.
"It was a recording," she said. "I'm to leave from Pindar in three days, at—Merrick, what time was the note delivered?"
"Just after two."
"Three days from now at two o'clock," Jin said. "He says he'll provide everything I need, which I assume will include proper Qasaman clothing and accessories."
"Sounds good," Lorne said briskly. Briskly, but with an undertone of tension beneath the words. "Three days should give me enough time to get myself on the off-duty roster. I'll collect my stuff—"
"Whoa, whoa," Jin interrupted. "The invitation was for me."
"So?" Lorne countered.
"So I'm going alone," Jin said firmly.
"You most certainly are not," Paul said, just as firmly. "But you are right about Lorne not going with you. We can—"
"You're not going, either," Jin said, forcing herself to look into her husband's eyes.
Haunted eyes. Worried eyes. Loving eyes. "Jin—" he began.
"No," Jin insisted. "You don't know the Qasamans, Paul. One Cobra sneaking onto their world is bad enough. Two of them will be interpreted as an invasion."
"So we make sure they don't see anything that jumps them to that conclusion," Paul countered. "I can stay in the background, or be your loyal servant, or whatever you need."
Jin braced herself. "What I need," she said as gently as she could, "is for you to be willing to stay behind. I have to do this alone. I really do."
"What is this, mass insanity?" Lorne demanded. "Jody's going to Caelian, you're going to Qasama—"
"Caelian?" Jin cut him off.
"Lorne!" Jody bit out, her stunned expression edging rapidly toward fury.
Lorne winced. "Sorry," he apologized.
"Never mind sorry," Jin said sternly, her stomach suddenly doing flip-turns inside her. "Jody?"
"I was going to tell you after dinner, Mom," Jody said, her expression managing to be repentant and stubborn at the same time. "We got the call this afternoon from Governor Uy's office. We're leaving on the Freedom's Fire in—" she grimaced "—in three days."
"From Capitalia?" Paul asked.
"Yes," Jody said. "But maybe I can get the time changed."
"Don't try," Jin said, feeling the heavy weight of irony settling across her shoulders. The same time Jin would be leaving Aventine . . . only they'd be leaving from spaceports a thousand kilometers apart. The universe wasn't even going to let her say a proper dock-side farewell to her daughter. "They'd only want to know why, and we can't afford anyone asking awkward questions."
"I'm sorry, Mom," Jody said. "I know you didn't want this."
"No, I didn't," Jin said quietly. "But I doubt your grandfather really wanted me going to Qasama, either. Sometimes we just have to face the unpleasant fact that our children do, in fact, grow up."
She looked at Corwin, wondering if he would point up the obvious difference in their situations: that Jin's father, at least, had sent her off to Qasama with a group of other Cobras.
But her uncle remained silent, and after a couple of seconds she turned back to Lorne. "Your cue, Lorne," she invited.
"My what?" he asked, frowning.
"A minute ago you were all set to come to Qasama with me," she reminded him. "Time to offer to accompany your sister to Caelian instead."
"Go for it, kiddo, because I'm sure not going," Merrick spoke up before Lorne could answer. "Capitalia patroller duty may not be as glamorous as hunting spine leopards, but my commandant takes our duty rosters very seriously."
"Well—okay, sure," Lorne said, fumbling a bit. "Jody—"
"Sorry, Lorne, but you're not going to Caelian, either," Paul spoke up. "You have a duty to the citizens of the expansion region."
Jin turned to her husband in disbelief. "Paul—"
"Luckily," Paul continued, looking over at his daughter, "I just happen to have an opening in my own calendar."
Jin felt her lower jaw drop open, her planned protest strangling into silence in her throat. "Paul, you are not going to Caelian," she insisted.
"Why not?" Paul countered calmly. "No, let me put it more strongly: I'm not going to sit home and water the azaleas while my wife and daughter travel to the two most dangerous places in the known galaxy. If I'm not going to Qasama with you, I'm going to Caelian with Jody."
Jin stared at him, momentarily at an uncharacteristic loss for words.
And yet, as the emotional fogbank cleared away, she realized he was right. Even at fifty-three, with arthritis and anemia starting to make themselves felt, Paul was still a Cobra. Moreover, he had the maturity and experience and cool headedness that Lorne still lacked. There could be no better protection for Jin's little girl.
She grimaced. No, not her little girl. Her young lady.
She looked at her two sons in turn. Lorne seemed midway between annoyed and frustrated, no doubt as a result of the ground being cut out from under him twice in two minutes. Merrick merely looked his usual stolid self, with no hint of embarrassment or shame at how quickly he'd refused to even consider going to Caelian with his sister.
Or maybe he'd simply realized before the rest of them that his father was heading in that direction and had made certain he wouldn't be standing in the elder Broom's way. "I guess it's settled, then," Jin said, forcing some false heartiness into her voice. "Paul and Jody will go to Caelian, I'll head to Qasama, and Lorne and Merrick will hold down the fort here."
"And try to maintain the illusion that you're still on Aventine," Merrick put in.
Jin frowned. She hadn't thought about that part of it. "Yes, good point. Any ideas on how we do that?"
"One or two," Merrick said. "But we can work on that later." He raised his eyebrows at Corwin. "After dessert, perhaps?" he prompted.
"That is the direction we were headed, wasn't it?" Corwin agreed. "Perhaps, now, Lorne and Jody, you'll be kind enough to clear the table for us?"
"Sure," Jody said as they both obediently pushed their chairs back from the table and started collecting the dishes.
"So is that it for the evening's surprises?" Paul asked, looking at Corwin.
Corwin cocked an eyebrow. "Isn't that enough for one night?"
"Very much so," Paul said dryly. Reaching under the table, he took Jin's hand in his. "I just wanted to make sure. And to make sure that everyone had a say."
"Everyone who wanted a say has had one," Corwin assured him. "For now."
The group was midway through dessert, and the conversation had shifted to Jody's plans for the Caelian study, when Jin suddenly realized that Aunt Thena hadn't said a single word throughout the entire debate.
The next three days went by quickly. Far too quickly.
The Troft recording had said that everything Jin needed would be supplied aboard ship. But she couldn't and wouldn't simply assume the Trofts knew what a proper infiltrator needed to do her job.
On the other hand, she could hardly go to the hardware store and ask the clerk to assemble a standard-issue commando backpack for her, either. Fortunately, the standard Cobra survival pack was a good place to start, and she knew its contents by heart. She bought enough supplies to stock two such packs, making sure to shop in a half dozen different stores across the city so as to muddy the backtrail a bit. Once those were prepared, she added a few other odds and ends as they occurred to her, and then decided she was as ready as she was going to be.
She spent the rest of the time she had left with her family. Those hours went by even faster.
The sky was beginning to cloud up as she stepped off the intercity transport and headed on foot toward the long, sleek Troft freighter squatting on its pad across the Pindar landing field. She'd done everything she could; had given Paul and Jody their final hugs earlier that morning, and then had called from the transport for a last good-bye as her husband and daughter watched Jody's two colleagues load the last bits of gear aboard the Freedom's Fire. But the farewells had been sorely inadequate for the occasion, and Jin could feel her mood filling with its own dark clouds as she walked wearily toward the ship.
The danger she had long ago accepted. The loneliness she hadn't counted on.
"Carry your bags, ma'am?"
She spun around, feeling her eyes widen with shock. Merrick was back there, smiling solemnly as he strode toward her, a survival pack of his own settled across his shoulders. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.
"What do you think?" he countered, stopping beside her and getting a grip on the straps of one of his mother's packs. "I'm coming with you."
"You most certainly are not," she insisted, trying to snatch her pack away from him. It was a waste of effort—his servos were every bit as strong as hers were. "Now get of here and back to Capitalia before someone sees you."
Merrick shook his head. "Sorry," he said. "I'm on temporary detached duty, assigned to watch over one of the legendary heroes of the Cobra Worlds."
"What legendary hero?" Jin asked, thoroughly confused now.
"You, of course," Merrick said. "In case you hadn't noticed, you've gone into a tailspin of depression over Jody and Dad's plan to go to Caelian. Lorne and I have been very worried about you, especially when you announced you were going out to the wilderness north of Pindar to, quote, think things over."
"So what, I'm a strap-stretcher case now?" Jin demanded, not sure whether she was more outraged or embarrassed by the story her sons had concocted.
"Oh, I'm sure you'll pull out of it after a while," Merrick said. "The point is that I'm on indefinite leave, and we're off in the wilderness all alone where no one's likely to notice us."
"Brilliant," Jin growled. "But your poor, aged mother is perfectly capable of, quote, thinking things over on her own."
Merrick took a deep breath. "Mom, remember back at the Island three days ago, and the talk Uncle Corwin and Aunt Thena had with you after dinner?"
Jin grimaced. Like she would ever forget. Corwin had grilled her for nearly an hour about her motives for wanting to go to Qasama, trying to get her to admit that she was doing it solely to vindicate him. Which she wasn't. "I remember it very well," she said. "And how exactly do you know about it? I thought you were all off in the billiards room at the time."
"I know because Uncle Corwin, Aunt Thena, and I planned the talk long before you and the rest showed up, of course." A brief flicker of grim amusement touched his eyes. "When did you think Dad, Lorne, Jody, and I cooked up the rest of this scheme? The only safe time to do it was while you were busy defending your honor."
"Only you'd already made up your mind about this, hadn't you?" Jin asked, thinking back to that evening. "That's why you were so quick to take yourself off Jody's escort list."
"Uncle Corwin and I had already run the logic," Merrick said. "Dad was too old to go with you—he's got the same health limitations you do. Lorne's is too young, plus he really is needed in the expansion regions. That leaves me."
"Or it leaves me going by myself," Jin said. "Or don't you think I can handle it?"
Merrick sighed. "If you insist. No, we don't think you can handle it. Not if worst comes to worst."
"Because I might be going with the wrong motives?"
"Because you're fifty-two years old," Merrick said bluntly. "You're not exactly in prime fighting condition anymore, you know."
"Bring me a couple of spine leopards, kiddo, and I'll show you what condition I'm in," Jin retorted. "Besides, the idea is to avoid any fighting."
"Amen," Merrick said fervently. "But if it does come down to a fight, you know as well as I do that two Cobras will always have a better chance than one."
"Unless it was the presence of that second Cobra that precipitated the fight in the first place," Jin said. "As long as we're remembering conversations, do you remember that one?"
"Certainly," Merrick said. "But as I recall, the Qasamans are very family-oriented, and I as your son am the kind of close blood relation that even Dad can't match. The Qasamans will respect that."
He was right, Jin had to admit. Even if they discovered he was a Cobra, they would more likely interpret his role as that of his mother's protector than as an invader.
And as she gazed at the determination in her son's eyes, she realized suddenly that she really didn't want to do this alone. "There's no chance I can talk you out of it, is there?" she asked, just to be sure.
"None," he said in a voice that left no room for argument.
"Then let's do it," she said, turning toward the ship. She paused and let go of the bag he was still holding. "And yes, you may carry my bag."
Besides, this was just a friendly visit between old acquaintances, she reminded herself. There wouldn't be any fighting. Surely there wouldn't.