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7

When Nosey Jones saw the two visitors in SFS uniforms waiting on the covered porch of his A-frame house, he set his air car down on the landing pad next to their nondescript vehicle. The weather wasn’t bad, and he was curious as to what would bring the rangers to his home, rather than just asking him to drop by headquarters. He’d garage his air car later.

It was only after he’d started walking briskly toward his visitors that Nosey realized he’d made a horrible mistake. The trousers and shirts they wore, along with the serviceable boots and neatly holstered sidearms, had looked very much like SFS uniforms from a distance. However, the impression didn’t hold up from even a few paces closer, especially when they turned to face him and he saw that their features were curiously blurred.

No fool, Nosey didn’t pause, but immediately started backing toward his air car. A warning shot froze him in his tracks.

“Hold it right there, Jones,” said a distorted voice, deep and mechanical. “We’ve got a few words for you. Then we’re going to have you deliver a message.”

“What?” Nosey struggled for his usual poise and managed a poor facsimile. “I consider it my duty to help everyone be heard. You could have texted me. No need for this…”

He started to say “melodrama,” but saw the gloved trigger finger of the hand holding the firearm begin to curl. The spokesman laughed, a guttural, ugly sound.

“Glad you see the wisdom in cooperating. Here’re the words for you—just for you. Leak them to anyone, especially to the law, and we’ll know.”

Nosey nodded, his mouth suddenly powder dry.

“You’ve poked that honker of yours into someone else’s business, someone who doesn’t want you nosing around anymore. Got that? Accidents are accidents. None of those who’ve had one of these unlucky incidents didn’t know exactly what they were doing. Got that?”

Nosey stood frozen. All the way home, he’d been thinking about the pattern emerging from his interviews with accident victims, how some of the senseless accidents made sense if looked at in a certain way. He’d even begun to think he knew why some of the victims were victims. What he didn’t know was the “how,” and the “what,” and the “where.” Even so, he’d been thinking he had enough to take to the SFS or one of the local municipal law enforcement agencies. News stories were great but, if what he suspected was true, then getting someone official to look into how these weren’t really accidents was much more important than any ad revenue.

Nosey didn’t realize that he’d been standing motionless, soundless, until the spokesman repeated in an aggressive bark, “Got that?”

“Sure. Got that. Drop the accident stories.” Nosey drew a deep breath. Maybe if he asked a question or two, he’d get a clue as to who these men were, who they represented, because he was sure they weren’t the top of the food chain. “You said you had a message you wanted me to deliver?”

The man holding the gun, silent to this point, gave a coarse chuckle. As if that was a cue, the spokesman strode forward, moving with a leisurely, muscular gait that reminded Nosey of one of the hexapumas at the local wildlife center. The man talked as he moved closer.

“Yeah. I’ve got a message for you—one I gotta deliver up close and personal. Don’t do anything stupid like try running. My buddy there said that we should shoot your kneecaps out. He bet me a six he could do it with only two shots. I told him we wouldn’t bust your joints unless you were stupid. Soft tissue heals a lot faster, but, y’know, I think I’ll give you an excuse to have that big nose of yours fixed.”

As he drew closer, the spokesman clenched his right fist. Nosey swallowed hard and heard himself whimper. He’d been beaten up before, back when he’d been a lot younger. The bullies had backed off after he’d taken some self-defense classes. Even after the bullies moved on to easier prey, Nosey had kept up with his training. He’d learned to shoot as well, because couriers carried expensive or sensitive packages—the sort of things that couldn’t be trusted to the bulk shipping firms.

Neither his ability to fight hand-to-hand nor his skill on the shooting range mattered one bit right now. His handgun was locked in the glove box of his air car. Even if he’d had it right there, in his hand, he didn’t think it would help, and it would probably make matters worse.

The spokesman was closing in at an angle that gave the shooter a clear line on Nosey. If he’d had his gun, Nosey might have gotten a shot off, but he felt absolutely certain that if he did, then the shooter wouldn’t have settled for a knee. He’d shoot to kill. They’d probably steal Nosey’s air car and make the whole thing look like a carjacking. The only thing that was keeping him alive was that they were going to use him as an example.

The bullies were back, and he was a little boy with a big, funny nose who, even then, had liked to ask too many questions. But unlike that little boy, Nosey Jones didn’t plead or cry or scream for help. Waiting stoically for what was going to happen was a small thing, but after that one terrified whimper, he didn’t make a sound and held his ground. Nosey studied his attacker as he drew closer, grabbing every detail he could. Maybe, later, there would be a chance to get even.

Then the first punch came, a right to his solar plexus. Nosey doubled up, took a fist to his nose. Blood spurted out, and his hands flew up as if he could somehow catch it. There was a kick to one of his knees, delivered from the side. As he fell back, the next kick squarely hit his groin. He was down now, and not getting up but, nonetheless, his attacker kicked him in the head. There was something methodical, almost scientific, about the sequence of blows.

That’s information, Nosey thought. Then there was nothing but pain shooting fireworks behind his eyes, and, finally, an almost welcome darkness.

<I am sure,> Climbs Quickly began, <and Keen Eyes is as well, that Stone Shaper understood that we were suggesting that he come visit Bright Water. Whatever the gray death did to him, it did not make him less intelligent.>

He and Death Fang’s Bane had ridden her folding flying thing to spend a lazy day at Bright Water. From their earliest days together, Death Fang’s Bane had taken great care that Climbs Quickly would not be completely cut off from his birth clan, even though he had chosen to nest with her. Now he sat in the ornate nest of his littermate, Sings Truly, and regaled her with the tale of his and Keen Eye’s failed attempt to coax Stone Shaper to come visit Bright Water.

Sings Truly twitched her ears. <I do not disagree with you. From what you describe, Stone Shaper should have been able to understand, but let us not jump to conclusions. You say his new two-leg bondmate was very upset that day. He might not have been rejecting your suggestion that he visit Bright Water as much as indicating that he would not go anywhere at that time.>

<How could we have gone anywhere at that time?> Climbs Quickly protested. <When Stone Shaper left Bright Water he made an amazingly long journey before settling near where his new two-legs has her family nest. Even though the netwood is well-connected in that part of the forest, we would have needed to run for many days to reach Bright Water. Surely he did not believe I was suggesting that I could make the flying thing do my bidding?>

<Could Stone Shaper know that for certain?> Sings Truly countered. <Remember, he has lived in isolation for almost a hand of turnings of the seasons. You said his mind-glow was full of surprise when he met you at Healer’s place of healing.>

<And he studied my injuries carefully as well,> Climbs Quickly admitted, <so he had no awareness of the shape of my personal song.> His usual ebullient nature rose and he bleeked laughter. <Perhaps he does believe that I could make the flying thing do as I wish. After all, he did seem puzzled when I asked for one of his stone knives. I saw his gaze rest on my not-stone knife and on the little not-stone axe Death Fang’s Bane gave me at the time of many presents her family celebrates. You may have a point. I forget that while he and Keen Eyes bonded with their two-legs within a hand of days of each other, Keen Eyes can ask questions and receive answers, while Stone Shaper must watch and arrive at his own conclusions.>

<I have been thinking,> Sings Truly said, <I would like to meet with Stone Shaper myself. He lives too far from Bright Water for me to make the visit myself. The clan accepts that I will not be limited to the clan’s central nesting place as Memory Singers traditionally have been. However, asking them to accept that I go that far would make the traditionalists unhappy. Since Stone Shaper’s son, Stone Biter, is one of those traditionalists, and our goal is a reunion for Stone Shaper and his children—as well as with the clan—I think it would be unwise to create controversy. Stone Shaper would feel the tension, but we could not explain that it had nothing to do with him.>

<Yes, we must take care. Being able to read mind-glows without mind-speech might be worse than being completely mind-blind as the two-legs are. Partial information would be interpreted not based on knowledge but on what one imagines to be knowledge.> Climbs Quickly twitched his tail thoughtfully. <There is one way to bring Stone Shaper closer to Bright Water, whether he wishes to come or not. If Awakening Joy came to the nesting place of Death Fang’s Bane and her clan, then he would have no choice but to come with her. One of our scouts is almost always close enough for me to mind-speak from Death Fang’s Bane’s nesting place. If he is, then I could get a message to you when Stone Shaper is here, and you could come.>

<It would still take time for me to make the journey,> she reminded him. <My escort would not be happy if you and he had flitted in and out again before we could arrive.>

<I am learning to read the signs that Death Fang’s Bane is expecting guests who live with People,> Climbs Quickly said. <For one, she always prepares a choice selection of cluster stalk, more than she ever lets me have for myself. If I saw those signs, then I could send word to you and you could come part way. Then I would let you know if Awakening Joy and Stone Shaper were among those visiting.>

<A good plan,> Sings Truly agreed. <Returning to the subject of those of the People who have bonded with the two-legs, I was surprised that Keen Eyes was not with you today, nor has he been with you on any of your more recent visits. I know we are not his birth clan, but Shining Sunlight often comes with Death Fang’s Bane on these journeys, and Keen Eyes with him.>

<Shining Sunlight has been spending far less time with Death Fang’s Bane and her clan,> Climbs Quickly replied. Knowing that Sings Truly would read that he was deeply troubled from his mind-glow, he went on to explain. <Death Fang’s Bane’s mind-glow is clouded, yet I feel she does not realize how much she misses Shining Sunlight’s companionship. He was the first person close to her age for whom she did not feel a touch of—Scorn? Detachment? Aloofness?—sometimes it is difficult to understand how the mind-blind perceive each other. Season turnings passed before she really befriended anyone else close to her age. Now she has Windswept and Bleached Fur…>

<Except she does not,> Sings Truly completed for him, <Windswept is spending much time in the place where two-legs go for healing of grave illness or injury. Bleached Fur has chosen to pursue Windswept, although from what Dirt Grubber has told you about Windswept’s feelings—or perhaps her lack of deep feeling is a better way to put it—I think Bleached Fur’s pursuit will be one without a tasty morsel at the end.>

<As do I.> Climbs Quickly flicked his tail toward where Death Fang’s Bane rested at the base of a netwood, absorbed in one of her things. <Death Fang’s Bane aches because where her friends once set a warmth she is now cold. But, because for so long she did without friends of her own age, she may not even be aware of that cold. I do what I can, but I fear my comfort only makes it easier for her to deny how much she misses them—especially Shining Sunlight. When they meet, as they do meet, still almost daily, she flares up. Even when he makes mouth noises at her through the little thing she carries with her, she feels some of that warmth.>

<She is young yet,> Sings Truly said, <but I wonder if someday Death Fang’s Bane may be drawn to bond with Shining Sunlight.>

<They would fit each other well,> Climbs Quickly said, <but unlike People, they do not feel these things clearly. They have no mind song through which they can realize that they resonate in special harmony with another. I am not sure, but sometimes I think two-legs are like near-weasels in mating season, except they confuse being in heat for love. Shining Sunlight is spending much time with Awakening Joy. She is, in her own way, as brave and determined as Death Fang’s Bane. There is much to like about her.>

<And does Shining Sunlight more than “like” her?>

<Shining Sunlight is similar to a forest after snow time. You know how the People first named him Shadowed Sunlight because, for all the warmth of his mind-glow, there was a darkness to him? His bond with Keen Eyes burned away the shadow, as the sun burns away clouds after a storm. I think he “likes” everything, from his food to his family to his friends more than ever.>

Sings Truly reached forward and patted Climbs Quickly gently on one side of his face. <Then maybe he will also like Death Fang’s Bane more than ever. We can only hope she gives him a chance to see her brilliance and does not lock it away out of fear of being abandoned.>

The outing to Twin Forks had not started really well. Stephanie had ridden into town with her dad in the Vet Van to do some work on the SFS Explorers. She’d hurried over to the SFS station eager to meet with Karl.

He’d greeted her with his usual casual wave and smile. But when he’d moved from the shelter of the building’s overhang toward her, someone had come with him: Cordelia Schardt-Cordova, Athos peering over her shoulder. Cordelia’s ankle was still wrapped, but she’d given up using a cane, and Athos was beginning to fuzz his wounds. They’d all reached Karl’s air car at the same time and, when Karl had popped the canopy, Athos had jumped into the front seat with the ease of long routine. As he did, Stephanie felt her heart give a funny squeeze. That was her place.

Cordelia hadn’t followed her ’cat, but had gotten into the back seat, sliding into the middle to leave the windows for the treecats. She patted her lap to bring Athos to her, then indicated her right, so there would be room for Survivor behind Karl. Stephanie wondered if she’d been overreacting but no…Did Karl look just a little disappointed?

If so, he didn’t say anything, but slid into the driver’s seat, while Survivor hopped into the back behind him. Lionheart, ever sensitive to Stephanie’s moods, stayed with her, softly thrumming his soothing purr. She wrapped her arms tightly around him and hoped she didn’t look as much like an insecure kid as she suddenly felt.

Karl spoke as the air car lifted. “Hey, Steph. I met up with Cordy when we were both dropping sisters off at the skimmer park. She had some errands to run, so I said I’d take her into town. That way she didn’t need to find parking.”

Too much explanation, Stephanie thought, especially from Mr. Strong and Silent.

“Hi, Cordelia,” Stephanie said, forcing herself to turn around and sound friendly. “You’re really walking well now. No one would ever guess you’d had such a bad break. Dad said, after that last time you brought Athos in, that Athos is healing fantastically.”

“We both do our PT,” Cordelia said. “Every day and every way. But doing all those stretches gets old really, really fast. You know, though, better than most.”

Stephanie felt the weird, lonely ache easing. She liked Cordelia, she really did. And ’cats knew how to find good people. If Karl wanted to date Cordelia, Stephanie was going to encourage him all the way. She’d make sure to invite them both over. Maybe if Cordelia wasn’t too busy, she would like to join the SFS Explorers as a counselor. That would avoid having all the adults involved be teachers or parents.

She brought up the idea and Karl beamed. “I’d been thinking that, too. I was going to bring it up to you when we had our next planning meeting. What do you think, Cordelia?”

“Sure! I’m a firsthand example of why we all need to know what to look out for in the bush. A really excellent object lesson, because I was born here and I’ve played in the bush all my life, but if it hadn’t been for Athos”—her hand drifted over to stroke the treecat from the top of his head to the base of his bushy tail—“I’d be dead and so would Barnaby.”

Talk about the SFS Explorers kept them all busy on the drive to the skimmer park. Since this was on the edge of town, on the opposite side from the flying field the hang-glider club used, Stephanie had never been there before. She’d seen it from the air, but never from the ground, where she could really appreciate the tracks’ layout. Now she gaped in awe—and just a little bit of envy.

“Wow! I never realized how steep they get!” she gasped in admiration as she watched the skriders guide their deltoid craft up, over, and along the sides of a series of fluid, curving tracks. “I never thought I wanted to take up skimmers, but this could make me change my mind. Sure, I’ve seen holovids, but it’s different in person.”

“Harder than it looks, too,” Cordelia said. “It’s all about balance and velocity. You’ve got to be moving pretty darned fast to do something like that.” She pointed at a rider who’d just shot up the surface of a steeply curving bowl. The lip of the bowl curled back over, like a breaking wave, and the young man followed it up. He sailed up the inside of the concave shape, then broke contact with the maglev field and sailed free in a complete, elegant loop that landed him back on the track. His legs flexed as he took the shock of the sudden braking effect in Sphinx’s heavy gravity, but he landed with hummingbird grace and rode his momentum into a sharp switchback that sent him shooting back out on an exactly 180-degree reversed course.

“The park requires riders to wear counter-grav units,” Cordelia continued, “and the track’s surface underneath is padded, but scratches and scrapes are still common.”

“Look,” Karl said, pointing. “There goes my sister, Staysa. She’s going to try a triple.”

The three humans leaned forward, watching intently as Anastasia shot down a steep ramp, gaining velocity, and then rode her skimmer into a circular, twisting tube. Momentum kept her stable, shooting around the inside of the tube like a bullet, while she made three complete loops inside the tube, then went scooting out the other side in a semi-crouch, arms outstretched for balance, while her long dark hair streamed out below her helmet.

“That was impressive,” Stephanie said sincerely.

“Yeah, I know,” Karl said. “And she keeps telling me it’s perfectly safe. I believe her—really, I do—and I’ve ridden the same course. But I have to say, skimmers are not my choice of hobby, and my stomach still turns flip-flops when I watch her. Want some frozen custard? I mean, Steph, you haven’t eaten in at least twenty minutes.”

“Almost an hour,” she corrected solemnly. “Just remember, I’m a growing girl.”

“Very slowly growing,” he teased.

The familiar banter felt good. Stephanie grinned at Cordelia. “How about you?”

“I think I’m done growing,” Cordelia said solemnly, “but I have mending bones. I need the extra calcium. Custard isn’t a snack, it’s medicinal.”

They laughed together. When Karl didn’t come up with his own creative excuse, Stephanie glanced over and saw he was staring at the skimmer course, worry furrowing his brow.

“Karl?”

“I was looking for Dia and Natalie. I thought I’d get them something from the snack stand, too. I’ve spotted Natalie, but I can’t find Dia. I thought she was with that huddle of girls over on the left, but they’ve just broken ranks to start skimming again, and she’s not there. If she’s gone AWOL…”

Cordelia bounded from the back seat. “I’ll check the facilities. You call the other two over and ask if they know where Dia is.”

“What’s up?” Stephanie said, hurrying to stand by Karl as he waved to Natalie, then waited until he could catch Anastasia’s eye without putting her at risk during a tricky part of the course. “You and Cordelia are both acting like Nadia not being right here is a reason to worry.”

“It is,” Karl said. “This isn’t the first time. Last time she claimed to be in the rest facilities, which is why Cordy went there. This time Dia won’t be able to use that as an excuse. Worse, I’ve commed her. She’s not answering, but the locater on her uni-link says she’s here in the park.”

“So you really think she’s where she shouldn’t be?”

“Since the only place she should be is this park, and I don’t see her—no matter what the uni-link says—yes. Cordy’s had enough time to ping if Dia was in the rest area. So…Dia’s probably gone off. Probably with a guy. Probably a guy we wouldn’t like her going off with.”

Stephanie had known Nadia Zivonik for almost three years, but she’d never really paid too much attention to her, even though they were close to the same age. It wasn’t that Nadia wasn’t a perfectly decent person, but Stephanie gravitated to people older than herself.

“We’ll find her,” she said.

“Oh, we’ll find her,” Karl agreed. “And then I’m going to stay very, very calm, and I’m going to take her home, and let my parents do the parent thing because right now I’d shake that girl so hard I’d rattle her teeth right out of her skull.”

Stephanie was reaching up to squeeze his arm in comfort when Karl’s uni-link pinged.

Cordelia spoke with the crispness of a bridge officer reporting to the captain, “Nadia’s not here. I’ve checked the restrooms, locker area, and the little eatery. No way I would have missed her. There aren’t that many people back here.”

“Got you,” Karl said. “Natalie is almost here, and Staysa is finishing her loop and will be a bit after. I’ll find out what they know. Come join us.”

“Right. I’m stopping for a tray of custard cones. Those two are going to need sweetening.” Cordelia laughed, but it sounded forced. “And Steph and I really do need a snack.”

They converged by the exit gate from the skimmer park, from which Karl all but frog-marched the two sweaty younger girls over to his air car.

“Where’s Dia?” he demanded when they were in relative privacy.

“I don’t know,” Anastasia said, but there was something in her tone that Stephanie recognized as speaking the sort of absolute truth that nonetheless withholds information. She and Natalie looked nervous.

“Me, neither,” Natalie added. She looked at Cordelia, something pleading in her expression.

Cordelia frowned. “Is something bothering you, Nat? You look as if you have an upset stomach. Want me to take you to the restroom?”

Natalie hesitated, then nodded. When the sisters started moving away, Stephanie glanced at Karl, decided he might get more out of his sister if there weren’t witnesses, and trailed after Cordelia. Although the two treecats attracted a certain amount of attention, no one slowed the group down and soon the three humans and two ’cats had claimed a small changing room and shut the door.

“You have something to say, Nat?” Cordelia said, leaning back against the wall, Athos in her arms. “Something you didn’t want to say in front of Staysa?”

“Yeah…” Natalie hesitated, then the words tumbled out. “Staysa wasn’t lying. Not really. We don’t know where Dia is. But we do know she isn’t here and that she left with Loon. We’ve been worrying for the last hour because she promised us that this time she’d be back early, so even if Karl showed up early there wouldn’t be a problem. But she wasn’t back.”

“Did you com her?”

“Couldn’t. She left her uni-link with us. She knew Karl’s been checking up on her, remote, and this way it wouldn’t show her where she shouldn’t be.”

Cordelia’s sigh was gusty enough to blow ripples through Athos’s fur. To give her a moment to compose herself, Stephanie asked a question of her own.

“Loon? Is that a person’s name?”

“Nickname,” Natalie said, obviously relieved to have a perfectly normal question to answer. “When he was a baby—or at least this was what Dia told us—he was really chubby, so his family called him ‘Balloon,’ and it stuck. When he got older, he couldn’t shake it, but he did manage to get most people to call him ‘Loon.’”

“I guess a little better,” Stephanie said. “A waterbird, right? I’ve seen near-loons in Yawata Bay.”

“Balloon Villaroy?” Cordelia exclaimed. “Nadia went off with Balloon Villaroy? He’s older than I am!”

“Dia thought that was cool,” Natalie said. “I mean, that a college guy thought she was interesting. They met when he was coaching swimming at the Y. I think he’s one of the ones who organized the swim team. She’s crazy about him.”

Loon for a nickname makes more sense now, Stephanie thought, thinking of the long-necked, sleek-bodied aquatic avians she’d watched what seemed like ages ago with Anders.

“Four or five years’ difference doesn’t matter much when you’re, oh, Dana’s age,” Cordelia said, “but what would Loon see in Dia? She’s only fifteen.”

“Hero worship?” Stephanie offered, trying not to be offended by that “only fifteen,” after all she was nearly sixteen. “Maybe she also looks really good in a swimsuit.”

Cordelia looked at Natalie. “I am not going to say that it’s your job to rat out a friend except, y’know, maybe I am. Not for having a crush on an older guy, but for sneaking off. The one is connected to the other. Don’t think Mom’s not going to hear about this. Whether Karl tells his mom is his business, but if you don’t tell Mom, I will. I’m not going to be an accomplice.”

“But…” Natalie began, obviously seeing her new freedoms possibly being limited.

“But nothing. Two words: Fall Alarm,” Cordelia said. “I griped about setting mine for years. Having you and the others in a group, that was, well, a sort of social fall alarm. But you didn’t set it.”

“That almost makes sense,” Natalie said, “but it’s not like we’re alone here at the park. There are lifeguards and all that.”

“But there are no lifeguards wherever Dia is,” Cordelia snapped. “She’s out there, somewhere, with a fellow who, no matter how nice she thinks he is, didn’t care enough about her to get her back here in time to keep her from getting in trouble. If he’s that much of a zork, what else might he do?”

While Cordelia dressed Natalie down, Stephanie had been messaging Karl about Loon. His reply came back promptly.

“Karl says ‘thanks.’ He suggests we see if we can find Dia ourselves before calling in a search party. He’s taking off with Staysa to start a search pattern.”

“Have him send coordinates,” Cordelia said, hustling Natalie out in front of her. “We’ll set up a complementary pattern.”

Stephanie did so, then loped a few steps to catch up with the Schardt-Cordova sisters. As they were getting into the air car, Toby Mednick, one of Stephanie’s friends from the hang-glider club, came hurrying up. He was wearing the uniform of a local concession stand.

“Karl told me to tell you, that I’m keeping a lookout in case Dia comes back here. I’ll ping you if she does.”

“You’re an angel on earth,” Stephanie said, letting Lionheart jump in first, then flinging herself into the back seat of Cordelia’s car, “as well as in the air.”

Toby’s large brown eyes flashed and he gave her a thumbs-up.

“He’s cute,” Natalie said, looking after the lithe, dark-haired young man as he hurried back to his post at a falafel and cheese curds stand. “I’ve seen him before. Do you know him well?”

“It seems like forever,” Stephanie replied, a little surprised, “but really only a few years. He was one of the younger members of the hang-glider club when my dad and Mayor Sapristos started it up. Now he’s one of the ace flyers, captain of the Blue Flight.”

“I wonder how old he is?” Natalie said with a sidelong glance at her older sister.

“Younger than you, I think,” Stephanie said, laughing. She saw that Karl had copied Cordelia on his post to Stephanie, and that Cordelia had linked the search pattern to the larger screen of the air car’s HUD. “Natalie, we’re going to be twisting through a lot of trees, so there’s only so much Cordelia can see while driving. I’ll look down from Cordelia’s side, you do yours.”

“Right,” Natalie said, suddenly serious.

Lionheart joined Stephanie at her window. Athos had climbed up to the back of the driver’s seat and was thrumming at Cordelia. The sound was so soft that if Stephanie hadn’t been attuned to it, she doubted she would have heard it.

So for all Cordelia is being cool, she’s worried.

Stephanie herself wasn’t exactly worried. Although she’d missed the Plague years, she’d had her share—more than her share, according to her parents—of life-and-death adventures since she’d come to Sphinx. She was perfectly aware that something could be wrong. What she didn’t doubt was her and Karl’s—and maybe even Cordelia’s—ability to handle whatever they would find.

Karl’s voice came over the audio on her and Cordelia’s uni-links: “We’ve found an air car, parked mostly under cover. Matches general description in the SFS database for one belonging to Loon’s family. I’m going down. Join us soon as you can.”

“Roger!” Cordelia snapped and wheeled the air car through an admirably tight turn and roll. “We’ll be there in less than five. Nat, why didn’t Staysa tell right off who Dia was with?”

“Dia has something on her,” Natalie replied. She was pale now, as if she suddenly realized how serious this could be. “They did the whole, ‘you know I know what the folks would like to know’ thing. Staysa didn’t exactly tell me what Dia’s threatening her with, but later Dia needled her again. I think it had to do with some sort of heirloom that no one admitted breaking and that finally got blamed on the dog. Like that.”

When they landed, Anastasia was in Karl’s air car, visibly weeping. Karl stood to one side, surveying the area through the SFS drone he always carried in his air car while he waited. Stephanie knew him well enough she could almost physically feel his need to already be tearing through the bush, looking for his sister. But he wasn’t. Instead, he was methodically mapping the terrain while he waited for reinforcements. Although today he wasn’t in uniform, his whole stance shouted out his training as an SFS ranger, and Stephanie felt her heart swell with pride. Their various instructors back on Manticore would have been pleased.

“Loon’s air car is empty,” Karl reported tersely. “I waited until you all were here to make a search. Staysa, get in Cordelia’s car. You and Natalie stay there until you’re told you can get out. And try to stop wailing. We need to focus on finding what happened to them. Cordelia, your ankle’s a lot better, but we don’t want to stress it. You stay here by the cars with Athos. Steph and I will do an area search.”

Neither of the Schardt-Cordova sisters argued. Athos, however, when he saw Survivor and Lionheart swarm into the upper reaches of the near-pines that dominated the area, joined them. Stephanie got out of Cordelia’s air car then stood alert, awaiting her own orders. One of the things she and Karl had learned in their law enforcement courses on Manticore was how following orders saved a lot of energy. She knew how much Karl must have wanted to go find his sister, but he had followed protocol and waited for backup. The least she could do was support him.

“Steph,” Karl indicated the area to the east of the clearing with a sweep of one arm, “you take that way.” He didn’t bother to say he’d take the other side or that she should call in if she found anything. They’d trained with the same teachers and, even better, they trusted each other’s common sense.

Stephanie gave him a brisk nod and stepped out. She was aware of Lionheart moving overhead, just a little ahead, alert to whatever dangers might linger in the bush.

Although, Stephanie thought, any creature that would stay in the area with three air cars and several humans thumping around is going to either be hexapuma dangerous, crazy, or…too busy having dinner to pay attention.

The last thought, which her imagination illustrated with grisly images of Dia’s mutilated corpse, made Stephanie want to hurry, but she knew hurrying was the worst thing to do in such a situation. “When there is a potential emergency,” Dr. Mordecai Flouret had said, “a balance between speed and thoroughness must be carefully assessed by those executing the search.”

Today’s search was going to need to be slower because of the nature of the terrain. Like any forest, those on Sphinx varied according to the dominant trees. Picketwood and near-pine provided a heavy canopy that often meant that their understories were open and it was possible to see for a great distance. This area, however, had a higher concentration of groundwater and so was dominated by feather bramble and other scrub growth. While the forest wasn’t tangled with vines or briars like some of the second-growth forests Stephanie had played in back on Meyerdahl, by Sphinxian standards it was relatively dense.

Her 11-millimeter magnum ready, Stephanie began working through a methodical search pattern. This forced her to take some of her attention from potential local hazards, so she was glad to know that Lionheart wasn’t far away. The patch of forest Loon had chosen for his tryst with Dia wasn’t really remote from settled areas, but that didn’t mean there weren’t predators.

Once again, Stephanie felt a sense of urgency. She considered setting her counter-grav for a lighter weight, so she could skim along at a faster pace, but then she might miss some crucial detail. When she did find her first trace of the missing pair, she was glad that she hadn’t chosen speed because, if she’d been going even a little faster, she would have missed the body sprawled beneath a natural bower made by a mature lace willow.

She spoke into her uni-link. “Found a male. He’s down on his back, unconscious. Looks as if he hit his head on a tree root. Breathing ragged. Signs of exterior injuries. I’ve got my first aid kit, but—”

“Administer first aid.” Karl’s voice was sharp. “Any sign of Dia?”

Stephanie closed with the young man who she assumed must be Loon. “She’s not here. I could keep looking. There are some odd marks in the duff, one set goes off—”

“Make sure Loon isn’t in danger,” Karl said. “I’m on my way.”

The rest of Karl’s reply was cut off by a series of sharp urgent bleeks from Lionheart, amplified by Athos. Having assured herself that Loon was not in immediate danger, Stephanie left him where he lay and raced to where the treecats were calling. She noticed that one set of the marks in the duff went in this direction.

Dia’s trail, Stephanie thought. She must have gone this way.

A blur of gray and white dropped from above as Lionheart sprang down from his arboreal perch to land directly in front of Stephanie, forcing her to pull up sharply—and thus avoid plunging into a cut in the forest floor partially concealed by a host of fluffy near-pine saplings. The opening was neither big enough nor deep enough to be dignified with the terms “crevasse” or “ravine,” but it was deep enough that tumbling in unawares would be dangerous.

Dia Zivonik lay in a crumpled heap at the bottom and, from where she stood above, looking down, Stephanie couldn’t tell if the younger girl was breathing.


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Framed