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walking around in sunlight.”
    “Yes,” said Petyr. “Quite a bit, since you were small, mostly with the underground, mostly in Lycos. I’m a familiar face in the streets there. It’s different, Trae. Lots of people, busy going somewhere, and the Emperor’s troops are on every corner, always watching. Our papers are the best, and we’ll be moving fast. A little luck, and we’ll be off planet within a week.”
    “It’s like I’m off planet right now, Petyr.”
    “I understand. That’s one reason I’m here.”
    “My teacher, older brother, always scolding me, and a priest.”
    “I’m a Soldier of The Church, Trae.”
    “Still a priest. Don’t you have a family somewhere?”
    “All gone, a long time ago.”
    “I’m sorry,” said Trae, then smiled. “I guess I’ll have to be your family, for now.”
    Petyr actually chuckled, a rare thing. “I can accept that.”
    “You’re a complicated man, Petyr. What else are you that I don’t know about yet?”
    Petyr reached out and squeezed his shoulder. His eyes seemed very dark in the dim light. “I hope you don’t have to discover that for a while,” he said, and Trae felt a tingling at the base of his neck.

    *

    The men came to get them when it was still dark. They went up on deck and the sails were down. They were surrounded by fishing boats a hundred yards from rock cliffs rising above a narrow beach. A crew of two men rowed them to shore without a word and they jumped into cold surf up to their knees. The little boat was already beyond gentle breakers when they reached the shore. Men were loading rowboats along the beach: duffels, boxes, nets, the daily supplies for a long workday of fishing. A man came up to them, looked only at Petyr, handed each of them a roll of rope netting and pointed towards the cliffs. Men were going up and down a path cut into the rock. Trae followed a step behind Petyr as they went up the path, staying to the inside and jostled by men descending with their loads. There were no greetings, not a word, and nobody even looked at them.
    They reached the top and Trae looked back just once at a terrifying drop to the beach. Beyond the cliff was not so much a village as it was a preparation area, with drying racks for nets, wooden shacks filled with boxes and barrels and what looked like an open kitchen shed with large, metal tables, all of it stinking with the odor of fish. Men milled around the area in a seemingly random fashion.
    Beyond the kitchen shed was a smooth, dirt area where several trucks were parked, some with flat beds, others bearing long, cylindrical tanks. A cab door opened, a man stepped down and came over to meet them. His angular face was clean-shaven, his eyes darting to Trae, then Petyr. “Well, here we are at last,” he said. “Everyone is waiting for you.”
    “Good to see you again,” said Petyr, but he did not introduce the man to Trae.
    “The smell is bad, but the ride is short,” said the man. He led them to his truck, a thick, silver cylinder behind the cab, took the rolls of netting from them and put it all in the cab. They followed him up a curving ladder to the top of the cylinder where he opened a port the width of three men. Trae jerked backwards as a rush of fish smell came out of the port. The man whispered something to Petyr, who beckoned to Trae to follow him down a ladder into darkness. The port clanged shut above Trae before he’d even reached the metal floor. He breathed shallow, the odor of fish suffocating. Darkness was total. Petyr grabbed his hand and they headed in the direction of the cab. There was a soft click, and a door opened in front of them, a chamber there with two comfortable seats and illuminated in deep red. Petyr closed the door and they buckled themselves into the seats. “All set,” said Petyr, and the truck began to move.
    They drove for several minutes before stopping. There were voices from outside, a metallic bang that rattled the walls, then more voices and