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8

Once both Loon and Dia had been located, Cordelia flew over to join the others. Natalie and Anastasia remained in informal arrest in the air car, while Cordelia hurried to see what assistance she could offer. Stephanie had lowered herself into the hole into which Dia had fallen and was checking her over.

“Dia’s breathing, but knocked out,” Stephanie said into her uni-link. “Good news is she had her counter-grav on when she fell, so she was at Terran normal gravity. Even better, this gully’s thickly carpeted in near-pine needles so, as falls go, she had a relatively soft one. She also seems to have managed to fall with her arms in front of her. They’re buried up to the elbows in the pine needles. I don’t think she went out right away. Looks as if she rolled partway onto one side before passing out. I’ve scanned her with the med-ap on my uni-link, and I don’t see any obvious breaks. She probably has at least a concussion, though.”

“Do you think it’s safe for us to move her?” Karl asked, his voice tight. “Or should I call for EMTs?”

“You and I have basic EMT training,” Stephanie replied. “If you feel clearheaded enough to use it when the patient is your own sister, then I think we could move her. Sooner we get her to where she can have a full scan the better.”

“I have a stretcher in my car,” Karl said, “I’ll bring it over.”

He left his uni-link open, though, so they could continue planning.

Cordelia offered, “I could take Nat and Staysa in my car, Loon, too, if you want. That way we can slide Dia flat onto the back seat of Karl’s air car, and Stephanie can ride along as ambulance attendant.”

“Good plan,” Karl said, his voice slightly distorted by the bounce of his gait, “but I’m worried that Loon might decide to take himself off. Even if this is the accident it looks like, he’s got to know the situation’s going to look bad for him. Why don’t you take Loon and Steph in your car? Steph can sit in the back seat with Loon; she’s on the SFS roll already, and I can deputize her to look after him in case anyone wants to complain later. You can take Natalia and I’ll take Staysa. We’ll meet up at the SRW Hospital in Twin Forks.”

“That leaves you short of medical assistance, if Dia needs it,” Stephanie reminded him.

“Anastasia passed basic first aid over a year ago,” Karl replied, his voice cold. “I think it will do her good to face the consequences of being a passive participant in irresponsible activities. I’m at the car. I’ll be to you in just a minute.”

Counter-grav made moving Dia without undue jostling possible. Anastasia assisted, pale but resolute, following her older brother’s orders without comment. Although she obviously wanted to help, Stephanie had gone over to Loon. The young man was beginning to stir. Stephanie checked him over with an efficiency that Cordelia couldn’t help but think was more than a little ruthless.

“Dia?” Loon’s eyes were unfocused. “Where’s Princess Nadia? Where’s the music? My head…”

His next several words were incomprehensible. Stephanie began asking him the standard self-identification questions. The first couple of replies were so distinctly weird that Cordelia, who was assisting Karl and Anastasia, felt her eyebrows rising into her hairline.

To “What is your name?” Loon replied, “Prince Effervescent Seabird, of the Palace of Forgotten Time.”

Only when Stephanie repeated the question did he give his full name. When Cordelia heard that his given name was “Fabrice,” she understood why he’d preferred “Loon.” He seemed to have equal trouble with his address, repeating the bit about the Palace of Forgotten Time until Stephanie, her voice astonishingly sharp and no-nonsense for a not even sixteen-year-old girl, snapped out the question a second time. After that, Loon’s answers were more or less sensible, although he seemed reluctant to give up his fantasy self.

“Could he have hit his head hard enough to cause hallucinations?” Cordelia asked Stephanie when, with the patients aboard, the two air cars lifted and sped to the hospital.

Stephanie shrugged. “Maybe. I’m guessing he was a little drunk. He smelled sour. When we locked his air car we found the foil from what looked like a mini-bottle of champagne in the front seat, along with a couple of fluted glasses.”

“Seriously?” Cordelia wanted to ask more, but since Loon was in the back seat, head flung back, a cold compress over his forehead and eyes, she restrained herself.

Later, at the hospital, when Loon and Dia had been taken back to be examined, and Karl had gone to wait with his sister, Cordelia resumed the subject. She kept her voice low so that Anastasia and Natalie, sitting side by side a few seats away, completely silent, guilt and worry wrapped like a shared blanket around their shoulders, wouldn’t overhear.

“Are you serious about the champagne?”

“Serious as life,” Stephanie replied, idly stroking Lionheart. “There were indications that the two of them shared a lovely little picnic before doing whatever it was that got them hurt.”

“Which was…what, do you think?” Cordelia asked a bit coldly, and Stephanie snorted.

“I thought the same nasty thought you just did,” she said. “Given where we found Dia, it sure looked like she might’ve been trying to get away from him. Older guy, younger girl, sneaking away, alcohol, he gets all handsy—or worse—and she runs. He falls chasing her, hits his own head…” She shrugged. “Yeah, I thought it. And I was pissed off enough at him for worrying Karl that way I didn’t want to give it up, either. He should darned well know better, and Dia really could’ve been killed out there. That would’ve been terrible enough for anyone, but Karl does not need that kind of worry, especially after—”

She broke off and shook her head angrily, and Cordelia nodded in silent agreement.

“Anyway,” Stephanie resumed, “I was mad enough I wasn’t about to cut Loon any slack. But then I calmed down and took a look at these.” She called up holo-imagery on her uni-link. “I took them at the site. I’m no expert tracker. Karl’s far better than I am. But the more I’ve looked at them, the more I have to say, it looks like they may’ve been dancing.”

“Dancing?” Cordelia repeated incredulously. “What sort of dancing gets you knocked out?”

Athos bleeked. Both young women turned to see that Karl, Survivor peering over his shoulder, had come back into the room.

“Dia’s conscious?” Stephanie asked. “How is she?”

“Sore. Bruised. A couple of broken fingers. A mild concussion. She came off light. Loon is actually worse off. It looks as he tripped over a root and did a header into a tree trunk.”

Anastasia burst into tears and Natalie wrapped her arms around her, her own eyes flooding over.

Karl evidently decided that Anastasia was in good hands, because he sank down on one of the seats near Cordelia and Stephanie. Survivor flowed around to sit in his lap.

“Karl, look at this,” Stephanie said, showing him the images on her uni-link. “Does that tell you what they might have been doing?”

“Maybe that would, but I have inside information,” Karl replied. “Apparently they were trying to duplicate an old ballet about a misunderstood prince transformed into a bird and the young woman who sees beneath his ugly feathered exterior to the noble nature beneath.”

“So they really were dancing?” Cordelia shook her head in disbelief.

“Dancing,” Karl agreed. “When I pressed her, Dia did admit that they’d had a bit too much to drink with their picnic. While they’d been dining, they’d been trying out the idea of performing some sort of water-ballet as a swim club event and, well, one thing led to another.”

He grimaced. “Dia’s holding something back, so I suspect they were doing a little more than dining and dancing, but there’s no evidence that Loon pressed his attentions too far. Apparently, he’s to blame for egregious carelessness, but nothing else.”

For all the calm in his tone, Karl’s right fist kept tightening, as if he was getting ready to punch someone. He’d loosen it, then ball it up again. Cordelia watched the rhythmic motion with fascination, thinking that Karl really was the protective big brother. And Stephanie had been right; what had happened to Dia must have jabbed every single painful memory of how his fiancée had died. Karl was both relieved that Dia was going to be all right, furious at her for putting herself at risk, and probably almost equally furious with her for the scare she’d given him. He’d have liked to be able to blame Loon entirely, but it seemed that he couldn’t. Which probably made it even worse.

“So there we have it,” Karl said. “My father is close enough to Twin Forks that he’s going to come and get Dia and Staysa both. I’ve been told to make myself scarce. I think some heavy parenting is coming down, and me being present would cramp Dad’s style.”

Stephanie gave what Cordelia was certain was meant to be a reassuring smile, but her concern was acutely evident.

“So, when Karl’s dad gets here, do you two want to go get something at the Red Letter Café? My treat?”

Cordelia shook her head. “Normally, I’d say ‘absolutely,’ but I need to take Nat home for her own dose of parental justice. We’ve only stayed this long because I didn’t want to leave until we heard how Dia was—Loon, too, but mostly Dia.”

“Rain check, then,” Stephanie said. “How about you, Karl?”

“Chief Shelton said I’d be useless in the field, suggested that you and I put in a few hours on the SFS Explorers.” He grinned. “He’s a good boss. Manages to be compassionate, provide me with a distraction, and justify the payroll all in one.”

“I’m good for it,” Stephanie said. “We can plan at the Red Letter Café as easily as at the SFS branch office, though. Milkshakes and burgers, then, on me.”

“Hungry again?” Karl asked, tousling her curls with a brotherly hand. He grinned at Cordelia and lowered his voice. “Steph’s been known to order two desserts, and thinks she’s fooled the waitstaff into believing one’s for me.”

Stephanie mock-kicked him in the ankle. Cordelia wondered if either of them were aware just how much affection underlay the teasing. She wondered, too, why the realization made her just a little sad.

When Life Shaper brought her flying thing down from the treetops to rest on the flat roosts, Heart Stone immediately felt Climbs Quickly’s mind-glow, powerful and welcoming. Sharp Sight’s mind-glow also shone with pleasure, but without the same “host” note. From this, Heart Stone deduced that he and Life Shaper had come to where Climbs Quickly lived with Fierce Fighter and her clan, and that Determined Defender was also visiting. Life Shaper was still taking some things out of the carrier part of the flying thing when another flying thing came to roost, and another Person and his human emerged.

Heart Stone had met them before, and had found their mind-glows oddly similar. Both tasted of a certain singlemindedness, not in the negative sense of being narrow, but in the positive sense of having discovered a great passion through which everything else was perceived. It was easy to guess what that was for the Person, for if he wasn’t tending a plant, he was examining a new specimen or thoughtfully tasting some bark or berry or leaf. For this reason, Heart Stone thought of him as “Plant Fancier.” Since he wasn’t certain what central interest drove Plant Fancier’s two-leg, he’d named her “Feels Strongly.”

So there is to be a gathering of the little clan of two-legs who have bonded with People, he thought and was pleased. These gatherings always made Life Shaper happy. Her initial nervousness about these two-legs had vanished, and her feelings about them were warming, as if they were an extension of her birth clan. He could feel the tension melting from her as she chattered away to Feels Strongly, her pleasure when Determined Defender and Fierce Fighter came out to help her carry all the things she had brought with her. There was so much—and Feels Strongly had more of her own—that Heart Stone wondered if they would be staying here overnight. That would be very pleasant indeed.

He bleeked greeting to Plant Fancier, then the two of them scampered up the trunk of the tall golden leaf where the other People waited for them. Climbs Quickly had a very comfortable nest near to the two-legs’ sprawling nesting place, part of which had been adapted with flaps so that he could go in and out as he wished. Similar adaptations were being made to Life Shaper’s clan’s dwelling, and Heart Stone appreciated this. He was well-fed, well-loved, but he had lived many seasons’ turning with only his own mind-glow and sometimes it was nice to be alone with himself.

This was not one of those times, however. Climbs Quickly bounded from limb to limb, giving a tour of his territory and, by his actions, making clear that he was happy to share it with his friends. Plant Fancier was particularly happy when they came to a place made nearly entirely of the shining clear-stone that the two-legs used to let light into their massive nests. Even before they slipped in through an open panel, Heart Stone had guessed that this was a large and elaborate version of the smaller plant growing place that Life Shaper’s clan used. There was a strong scent here of an adult female two-leg, a female whose scent sometimes lingered on Fierce Fighter. Her mother, perhaps?

Further tours brought them to areas in which Heart Stone caught the scent of Healer, who had saved his life after his nearly fatal encounter with the needle-fangs. Heart Stone had already suspected that Healer was Fierce Fighter’s father. Now he felt certain.

Eventually, they all went in to join the two-legs. Flame Crest, the healer of two-legs, and his Person had not joined the group, but otherwise all the two-legs who he knew had bonded with People were present. They were heatedly chattering over some point—one of Sharp Sight’s false furs, much the worse for wear, was on the flat, polished wood platform on which they had also rested a variety of things to eat and drink. Heart Stone plucked at his own false fur, thinking he took much better care of made things than did the young scout. Still, soon enough, both of them would have enough fur to protect them against the worst of the cold.

Climbs Quickly led his guests to a place which smelled of food preparation. There, as always when they met, were a variety of foods that People enjoyed, including some cluster stalk. None of them were precisely hungry, but everyone had a snack, then Climbs Quickly took out a very nice carry net and proceeded to bundle up some of the provisions.

For later, Heart Stone thought, and did his best to help.

He might not have been so eager if he had known the nature of the gathering that Climbs Quickly had planned.

Later, after all the young two-legs had gone to their sleeping places, leaving only the quiet ebb and flow of their dreaming minds to trickle to their bondmates, Climbs Quickly pointed toward outside. His mind-glow frothing with merry excitement, he settled the net of provisions and indicated that he had something he wished to show them. Doubtless the other two knew what Climbs Quickly was suggesting, for their mind-glows held no overt curiosity, only interest.

Perhaps Climbs Quickly knows of a good place for fishing or for catching toothsome night creatures, Heart Stone thought, but if so, why bring the food? Still, the night is pleasant and it is good to run under the stars with friends.

By the time he tasted the carefully muffled mind-glow of the one who waited for them, it was too late for Heart Stone to avoid the meeting, especially since the one who waited had offered him no offense. Indeed, even when they were within sight of each other, he did not know her. Only when she had unmuffled her mind-glow did he recognize her.

His first reaction was complete astonishment. The mind-glow was familiar but, even as the one who bore it was no longer the almost youngling he remembered but a magnificent adult female, so the mind-glow had matured and deepened, containing resonances so powerful that Heart Stone almost believed his damaged mind-voice might hear what she had to say. Certainly her mind-glow was almost blindingly brilliant.

Was this young Sings Truly? Even as he remembered Climbs Quickly as a mischievous young scout, so he remembered Sings Truly as a promising memory singer, one who had been—and surely should still be—under the authority of Song Spinner. What was she doing here? Memory singers never left the clan’s central nesting place, yet she was here and there was no doubt that she was also a memory singer.

Climbs Quickly is not the only one of his line to bend and break rules, I think. Sings Truly has risen to the highest rank, and taken it in her claws to rip into old provisions and shred them into fill for a newly born litter’s nest.

Heart Stone wished he could ask if his old friend, sometimes old rival, Song Spinner had died and, if so, how she had met her death. Song Spinner had not been young, but she had not been a creaking elder either. Sings Truly astonished him by providing him with an answer to his unasked question. From her carry net she took a section of a peeled branch. The wood was so old and dry that it hardly held any scent of its own, but instead was imbued with the strong scent of Song Spinner, several days old, perhaps, but no more.

“Bleek!” he said, curling his paws around the wood and taking another sniff. Who would have thought how glad he would be to know the crotchety old female was still alive? When last they had met he had been defying her and taking himself into exile. He felt his companions sharing his joy, then apprehension replaced joy. He knew why Sings Truly had made this dangerous journey to meet with him. She wanted him to visit Bright Water Clan.

Almost instinctively, Heart Stone balked and began to turn way. His self-exile from his clan had become as much a part of his image of himself as the pain that twisted deep inside him when he remembered Golden Eye’s mind-glow fading into a darkness where he could not follow. He had wanted so much to go into that darkness with her, yet her own rejection of that course had made it impossible. Caught between the two, savaged by the gray death—had there been a part of him that felt he deserved to lose his mind-voice? Had that made the pity he felt in the mind-glows of his fellow clan members particularly loathsome—because he blamed himself?

He braced himself for more unwanted pity, pity that would be particularly terrible coming from such a powerful mind—and he felt none. He felt admiration. (What had he done that was admirable?) He felt joy. (Surely not at meeting him again. As a Bright Water elder, he had known her as he knew all the clan’s young, but they had scarcely been close.) He felt welcome. And he felt…was that laughter? Not at him, no, but laughter nonetheless, a sense of the ridiculous, perhaps.

Heart Stone’s resistance melted before the cascade of emotions. In some ways, he felt as he had when he had awakened after the battle with the needle-fangs, believing himself reunited with Golden Eye. The new bond with Life Shaper had swept through his pain and suffering, proven to him that he was capable of not merely surviving but of living fully and joyfully, not with his memories wiped clean, but with them put into a new perspective.

How could he argue with this singer? Arguing with Song Spinner had been easy enough. They’d known each other lifelong, had argued over other matters. But this… Memory singers were the true leaders of the People. They governed not through domination, as in a herd of horn blades, or through mere seniority, as in a group of lake builders, but because they held the memory not only of the clan but of all the People. The clan’s elders as a whole decided the clan’s actions, but all of them looked to the memory singers, the keepers of its history and precedent.

Apparently, Sings Truly felt that there was a place for him—not living with the clan, she would understand better than any other that his place was with Life Shaper now—but as a welcome guest.

In mid-motion, Heart Stone stopped turning away, rejected his own self-pity. He realized that he’d been unable to live among the People who pitied him because his own bowl of pity was already full to overflowing and theirs had drowned him. Now, in his mind, he took that bowl and tipped it over. Instead of fleeing, he reached into his carry net and found a choice treat which he presented to Sings Truly. She bleeked thanks and sat comfortably back on her haunches to better enjoy the delicacy.

Mind-speech must have been used, for the festivities became general. Heart Stone admitted a feather-touch of relief that apparently they were not going to immediately go racing through the netwood back to Bright Water. Perhaps the distance was too great but, whatever the reason, he was glad to have time to adjust his thoughts, to prepare for seeing his kits again, to meeting old friends—to accepting their pity as a gift, not a burden.

A few days after the meeting of the Great Treecat Conspiracy at her house, Stephanie’s uni-link lit with a message from Nosey Jones.

Stephanie…I’m recovered enough now that I’m getting back to my columns. Karl messaged me about the new SFS Explorers program, and I’d really like to interview you both about it. Can we meet up and chat in person? You can see the column before it goes to press.

Like just about everyone in the Twin Forks area, Stephanie had heard about how Nosey Jones had nearly been killed in the course of a brutal carjacking. It had been especially shocking because carjackings were so rare on Sphinx. There was little market for a stolen vehicle, and the electronics were too easily traced in such a small community to make stripping it for parts profitable, the way it might have been on Manticore itself. On the other hand, the thieves had done an excellent job of covering their tracks, and she supposed it was possible they’d wanted the air car for some one-time use, after which they’d simply disposed of it. No one had a clue who they might have been, though, and Nosey had been in no shape to give details about the incident in the critical fifty-one-hour period following the crime. When he had been sufficiently recovered to be interviewed, he’d offered what he could, but he admitted that his memories of the events were hazy.

Getting as much coverage as possible for the SFS Explorers overcame Stephanie’s distinct dislike for anything to do with Nosey Jones. But, as she explained to Karl when asking if he’d be available to go with her:

“Ever since the attack, Nosey has more readers than ever, even if all he’s posting are recycled older columns. He said we could review the column before it went live, and I believe him. He’s annoying, pushy, irritating, but, when I went back and reviewed a bunch of his coverage of the fire season incidents, he never distorted the facts.”

Karl nodded. “The trouble comes in the Comments section. Nosey rarely limits what people are permitted to say. Sometimes the discussions get pretty heated, and some of the more…energetic comments end up having a higher word count than the original column!”

“Yeah, idiots will be idiots,” Stephanie said, “and since Nosey probably gets advertising money for every return hit, letting the Comments go wild is a great way to garner action.”

“Here’s what I want to do,” Karl said. “I’m the lead on this project. If any Comments need to be responded to, I’ll do it. Let’s face it, Steph, you’ve gotten a lot better over the years, but you do sometimes lose your temper.”

Stephanie nodded. “I do and you’re right. If you’re willing, then I’ll read all the Comments—if we get any—and flag you so you don’t need to waste your time.”

“Deal.”

They made an appointment for the next day. Nosey had suggested that they come out to his house, stating that he was still in bad enough shape that going places “wasn’t a lot of fun.”

“Let’s take him something,” Stephanie said. “Flowers? Food?”

“Food,” Karl said. “He lives alone. His family is in Yawata Crossing, and his sister, who had been staying with him, went back a couple of days ago. He’d probably love a treat of some sort, especially since he’s used to being out and about every day.”

When they stopped by the Red Letter Café, Eric Flint suggested that they bring a flash-frozen moussaka. “I know he likes moussaka, and a little bird told me that he’s been getting sent all sorts of sweets.”

Nosey’s house proved to be a small but pleasant A-frame, set on a large parcel on the east edge of Twin Forks. An adjoining A-frame housed a garage and probably provided extra storage space. The landscaping took advantage of the area’s natural beauty, including a small stand of tanapple trees.

Although Stephanie had spent a fair amount of time around injured people—and even been severely injured a time or two herself—when Nosey opened the door and she stood face-to-face with what a methodical beating could do to a person, it was like waking up to find that a nightmare was real. Nosey had never been what anyone would call “handsome,” but bruises turning from rich purple to green and yellow were not a good look on anyone. His famous nose was still set in sprayplast and so looked larger than ever. Part of his wiry dark-brown hair had been shaved so that a long, curving cut on his scalp could be cleaned and treated. His mouth was swollen and both eyes had been blackened. And those were just the injuries above his neck. From how Nosey moved, every little motion caused him pain, even with his counter-grav unit set to minimize the pressure of gravity on his battered brain.

“Come in,” Nosey said, moving away from the door toward the interior of the house, then using a remote to lock it after they were inside. His voice was distorted, as if he had a bad head cold, and Stephanie guessed he couldn’t breathe through his nose at all. Despite herself, she felt pity for him, then had to remind herself that even so he could be—if not actually an enemy—a serious antagonist.

“Thank you for coming by,” Nosey said. “I have a few snacks ready—including celery for the ’cats, if you think it’s all right for them to have some.”

Stephanie was becoming accustomed to how people often supplied treats for Lionheart, so hadn’t let him have any celery so far that day.

“Karl, can Survivor have celery today?”

“Sure,” Karl grinned. “If Nosey doesn’t mind that the ’cats aren’t exactly tidy eaters.”

Nosey indicated a tiled section of flooring at one edge of his living room/dining room area, directly in front of a floor-to-ceiling picture window.

“Would they sit there while they ate? It has a nice view.”

Stephanie nodded. “We’ve trained them to follow simple commands.” She tried not to sound as if the question threatened her, but knew she didn’t quite manage. Making even the most minor admission to Nosey about what the treecats could do seemed dangerous.

Karl covered for her smoothly, as he so often did. “Nosey, are those the promised snacks on the counter? Why don’t you let me get them? No offense, man, but you look pretty rough.”

“I feel pretty rough,” Nosey admitted. “If you wouldn’t mind… The celery’s in the fridge, along with a humus spread for the pita squares. There’s a pitcher of fruit punch, and I’ve set up a pot of coffee. If you prefer tea, my sister left enough to stock a shop.”

“Oh! I nearly forgot!” Stephanie jumped to her feet and presented Nosey with the box from the Red Letter Café. “We brought you a ‘get-well’ present: moussaka from the Red Letter Café. Eric said you liked it.”

“I do.” Nosey’s battered features tried to shape a blissful smile. “And even better, it’s soft but not soup or stew. You don’t know how tired I am of soup and stew.”

“Should I put it in the freezer compartment?” Stephanie asked. “The instructions say to reheat without thawing first.”

“Terrific, thank you!” Nosey looked pathetically grateful, and again Stephanie felt that dangerous pity rising. He settled stiffly into a high-backed, cushioned recliner, adjusted his legs and raised the footrest, then motioned for them to take seats on the comfortable, slightly battered sofa on the other side of the coffee table. “First off, I need you to know I got you here under slightly false pretenses…”

Stephanie, who had been giving Lionheart and Survivor their celery, stiffened again. “If this is about the treecats—”

Karl’s warning, “Steph…” overlaid Nosey’s anxious, “Not one bit.”

Nosey went on. “I’m not as against treecats as you seem to think. I’m actually for them. I just feel that if they’re going to be kept as pets, the situation should be handled properly. That’s an issue for another time, if ever. Why I brought you here has nothing to do with treecats, and everything to do with the sort of person you’ve always shown yourself to be, Stephanie—Karl, too, but especially you.”

“What?” Stephanie barely managed not to goggle in astonishment.

Karl laughed and scooped some humus onto a whole-grain pita square. “I don’t think he means annoying or abrasive or anything like that, Steph.”

“I don’t,” Nosey agreed. “Not a bit. I mean older than your years, reliable, capable of taking on high-pressure jobs. Before I go further, I want you to know my house is secure from surveillance. Even the picture window is tinted so that it can’t be seen or scanned through. Privacy is very important to my businesses, both as a courier and as a reporter. Even so, I’m taking a tremendous risk talking to you two, but when I went through my options, I realized you were the best I had.”

Stephanie rose and went to join Karl on the sofa. She noticed that Lionheart seemed completely relaxed around Nosey. She’d come to trust the treecat as a judge of—if not precisely character, then intent. Whatever else, Nosey wasn’t trying to deceive them or offer any threat.

“Go on,” she said, layering several squares of pita with humus, then offering the little plate to Nosey.

“Just humus, please,” he said. “The dentist said soft foods only for a while. Even soft bread is too much. If you’d be so kind, I’ll take a cup of coffee and some of that caramel custard.” He paused then, and his tone shifted, sounding very much as it did in the audio portions of his column. “I definitely plan to report on the SFS Explorers program, so anything you can leave me on that will be useful. Why I’ve asked you here also has to do with your role as SFS rangers. I need to tell someone about why I was attacked.”

“It wasn’t just a carjacking, then?” Karl asked. “There was some speculation at headquarters. You have been known to irritate people.”

“It wasn’t,” Nosey said. “I believe I was attacked because of a story I’ve been researching, one I stumbled on almost by accident, in the course of covering what, until I looked more closely, just seemed to be, well, accidents.”


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