leave you alone."

  "Who are they?"

  "The transmat is Navy. I'm sure it's Admiral Etrhnk. The other device is unknown to me."

  "Why are they doing it?"

  "I don't know. I would assume, if he wanted me dead, Etrhnk could have dumped me into a volcano or any of a thousand other lethal places. I'm guessing Samson has something to do with whatever the motivation may be."

  "Why the boy?"

  She had no answer for him. She shook her head. She looked across the Rhyan to Rafael.

  "Rafael, how are you holding up? You know it was an accident that we killed your wife."

  "Not 'we.' Me. I killed her. I felt the board crush her neck. Yes, it was an accident, but it doesn't lessen the guilt."

  "Did you even know it was your wife? Your wife was dark-skinned."

  "I knew she changed her appearance. I knew Daidaunkh and that she consorted with him. God knows, I may have wanted to hurt her! I thought I was long past such selfish feelings. But I see now that my hermit's life has been the ultimate act of selfishness. Perhaps I could have helped her if I had remained available to her, reached out to her from time to time. We all failed her, Daidaunkh, but I most of all."

  "Hopefully, she's finally at peace," Daidaunkh said, his dark Rhyan eyes close to flooding with tears.

  Fidelity inspected and adjusted Daidaunkh's splints as gently as possible. She rose and started to leave.

  Rafael placed a restraining hand on her forearm. "I worry that even if you leave us there will continue to be trouble. I'm too aged and weak to protect Samson from all the dangers."

  "There's little we can do about it. Find him a new crutch. Eat. Get some rest. I suspect I'll not get far, and the journey will continue."

  Fidelity stopped in the kitchen to write a note on the surface of the table. She saw that Samson had eaten everything on his plate and now slept on the sofa. Rafael followed her to the door. Before she opened the door, Fidelity turned and put a hand on Rafael's shoulder.

  "If you never see me again, think about life, Rafael. Think about Samson."

  "I think he is your child more than anyone else's, Fidelity. You also think about Samson."

  She opened the door. He locked it behind her.

  Fidelity saw very few people near Daidaunkh's apartment. All of them retreated at her approach. Dark buildings and dark streets surrounded her. She walked toward distant light, then picked up her pace to a loping jog. A cat ran in front of her and she dodged it. Just as she dodged the cat she felt the tingle of a transmat reference field and pulled away from it. She tried to run a random route down the street to avoid capture. It was only a matter of time before the transmat operator guessed correctly and she was paralyzed by the web of the reference field.

  1-24 Calling the Moon

  Jon Horss had to be doing something: Sugai Mai now knew this part of his character, and since it was a Mnro Clinic vehicle she had provided him in which to do his something, she felt justified in accompanying him, to observe his use of company equipment. That she found his presence stimulating for reasons other than his penchant for driving too fast nagged at her self-analysis.

  They flew down a dark avenue. Mai hadn't thought he would go this fast! She hoped the safety override system was functional. Horss slowed the ambulance, kept the windows open, and studied the pavement and the buildings. Mai wondered what he expected to see. He halted their forward motion and directed the aircar upward. They came to rest, floating above the street at the third-floor level of a 21st-century apartment building.

  "There," Horss said.

  "Where? What?"

  "Those windows are cleaner than the others. It should be an occupied apartment. I suppose entrance doors are designed to resist assault in these neighborhoods?"

  "Probably. Mine is, but I live in a better neighborhood."

  Horss maneuvered the aircar over the building and to a narrow balcony on the other side of the same floor. He let the aircar drift over the edge of the balcony and slowly ram the glass door with its tapered front end. Mai gasped and felt disappointed that Captain Horss would wreck somebody's apartment, as if being a Navy officer gave him that right. The glass shattered into thousands of small pieces. He put the vehicle into station-keeping mode and exited, dropping onto the balcony with athletic agility.

  "Hey!" Mai complained, again disappointed but not sure why. She had emerged from the aircar door, ready to drop down but she hesitated because of the height. Horss came back and coached her down, taking her legs in his arms to lower her to the balcony. She turned around in close contact with him, then pushed away from him before she did something foolish. That she even allowed thoughts of such possibilities was a warning of how strong her feelings had become. She wasn't used to this male-female thing. Her hormones had resumed production as she had prepped herself for the possibility of becoming pregnant, but not pregnant by Jon Horss! She was constantly rethinking the prospect of having a baby as a result of being in the company of the Navy captain. She had long ago forgotten the biological urges that nagged at her when near a man like Jon. Look, she even thought of him by his first name! Sex. The wrong time. The wrong person!

  "He's not here," she said irritably, peering into the darkness beyond the shattered door, and now annoyed that her hand strayed over to clutch his shirt sleeve.

  "It was a longshot," Horss said. "I thought Etrhnk might send the Rhyan home." He took her hand, as if he had every right to lead her over the broken glass and into the apartment. "This probably isn't the right place, but it does look lived-in."

  Then Jon released her hand, apparently oblivious to what it might mean to her, and he moved away in the dark to the middle of the room. Mai found a light switch, flipped it and saw Jon staring down at a large hole in the pink floor and at a mound of dirt and plant material in the hole. He knelt and touched the dark soil, smelled his fingers. He pinched a small amount of the loose material and put it in a pocket of his tropical-style shirt.

  "Damned strange!" he said, walking around the pile. "And fresh."

  "Someone ate a meal not long ago," Mai said, looking at the dirty dishes. She saw the writing on the surface of the kitchen table. She read the words Admiral Demba had written. "Ohmygod!"

  "What's it say?" Jon wondered, coming over, reading the message. "Crap! He's got all four of them. The Rhyan has two broken limbs but Demba, Samson, and the artist are alright."

  "Who has them?" she asked.

  "It must be Etrhnk."

  "Daidaunkh needs me," Mai said with complaint in her voice. "And Rafael - he's too aged for the stress he must be under. And the boy! How much more must the child suffer? Let's go back to the Clinic. I'm ready to call Doctor Mnro."

  = = =

  The hospital was six hundred years old, built in an era of epidemics, incurable diseases, and frequent physical injuries. It had six floors, four main wings, two parking garages, and more than a thousand rooms and labs. The Mnro Clinic occupied one hallway of rooms on the first floor of one wing. It was windowless and fortified. The rest of the hospital was empty.

  Mai sat down at her desk and started to activate the space communications set, but an incoming call to her in-body unit stopped her. She sat and listened.

  Horss was left to explore Mai's office and also to think strange thoughts. Why is that mound of dirt in Daidaunkh's apartment? Why is Mai still tolerating my presence? Of course, I will never get anywhere with her, not that I want to! The dirt has to have come from someplace else but what is the significance of it? Mai has to be waiting for me to make a fool of myself but I won't mind that. I always did make a fool of myself with women, and they seemed to like it. What will I do with the rest of my life, now that Demba has got me removed from the Navy?

  Horss looked at everything in Mai's office but hardly noted anything but the three oil paintings. They were signed by Rafael de LaGuardia. He stared at the images for a long time, losing himself in imagining impossibilities. The pictures affected how Horss thought of Mai and how he fe
lt about her, although he couldn't fully realize that was what had happened. He did fully realize that he wanted copies of all three portraits of Mai. He recorded the portraits with his visual augment. A relationship with Sugai Mai? A romantic relationship? He wasn't immune to such feelings but the Navy always completely removed the possibility of any serious relationships. It had to be casual affairs, as anyone dear to him would always be at risk. However, if his Navy career was at an end... Was that what it was - getting serious about the first woman he could afford to be serious about? It was difficult not to think about Mai, even when events overshadowed personal feelings. Why is that damned pile of dirt in Daidaunkh's apartment?

  "Opera week," Mai said after many moments of silent conversation. "That was my temporary staff. They have a full emergency room down the hall, including three fatalities in stasis. Looks like I'll be working all night. Again."

  "Anything I can do to help?"

  "Be careful what you volunteer for."

  "I actually have some experience in medical emergencies," Horss said.

  "You were in combat?" Mai asked with concern, or maybe disapproval.

  "Yes, that's what the Navy calls it when you give your problems a chance to shoot back. I did two years as a medical corpsman with a bunch of Marines who were never very careful."

  "That's... well, not so wonderful, I think. How did you...like it?"

  "I don't ever talk about it, Mai. Sorry." That, and a lot of