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a Munie security feed.
    “Do we know what’s up with the demonstrations?”
    “Riots outside spreading,” he said, “farther north, not here. Ground access locked down. Hard for riot spilling over by maglev, air shuttle.”
    Yeah, if they really were spontaneous , I thought, but ah-Quan continued.
    “Municipal constabulary gave access to video feed South Tower Atrium, nearest hub to chambers Good-Soul Counselors. Peaceful demonstrations there yesterday; no demonstration today, but limited information precludes reliable assessment.”
    “South Tower Atrium. Is that in the Red Forest Twenty-one Wat District?” I asked.
    His eyes lost focus as he concentrated on his viewer for a moment and then he looked me in the eye. “Yes. Is that significant?”
    “Probably not,” I said, but it was hard to know. Ah-Quan was right: not enough information to make a good guess, and that made me nervous. There was a time when I’d gladly charged into dangerous situations with less data than this, but ever since I died I’d become more cautious. No matter how bad things get, most people never believe deep down inside they’re really going to die. Once it actually happens to you, you know better, and that knowledge changes you.
    “Let’s get going. The sooner we’re done and out of here, the better I’ll feel.”
    * * *
    The five of us took a private autopod from the office suite to South Tower Atrium. The’On and Gaisaana-la spent the time going over the agenda and arguing about our negotiating position, which was bizarre. The position was simplicity itself: we were willing to talk and willing to listen, but we weren’t giving a Goddamned inch on Tweezaa’s legal rights. They weren’t ours to bargain away. But The’On and Gaisaana-la were arguing about fine points of language so subtle I couldn’t even tell the difference between them, not that my aGavoosh was anywhere near as polished as theirs. But it wasn’t long before I got the idea Gaisaana-la was just pissed at The’On and arguing on general principle. The’On was getting frustrated as well, and this wasn’t like either of them. Finally I butted in.
    “What’s the problem here?”
    “I do not know exactly,” The’On answered, exasperation plain in his voice.
    Gaisaana-la sat quietly for a few seconds and then looked at me.
    “I was not told in advance of the adoption.”
    “It was very closely held,” I said. “We did not want to put you in a position where you might have to decide between telling the truth and protecting our secret.”
    She nodded to the side slightly. “I appreciate that. Nevertheless, I have yet to receive any communication concerning the disposition of the office and its staff. It seems logical that Tweezaa e-Traak will live with her adoptive father, presumably in Kootrin, and that Madame Marfoglia will accompany her. One assumes part or all of the staff will either be transferred as well or will be replaced.”
    “Well…with all that’s happened in the last few days we haven’t given that as much thought as it probably deserves,” I said. “Hopefully this meeting today will help settle things down and then we can figure all the rest of it out as well. I’m sure Marrissa intends you to be part of the transition planning, assuming there is much of a transition. I just don’t know yet.”
    She made that small nod to the side again, her face expressionless.
    “Are you offended that you were not included in the planning?” The’On asked.
    “I am disturbed by the action itself. Tweezaa e-Traak is uBakai. Saying she is now suddenly uKootrin is…inauthentic. I understand the legal convenience of the move, but I wish it had been possible to negotiate a solution before the adoption was finalized. But that is meaningless now. We are committed to this course of action and I will support it to the best of my abilities.”
    She sat back and stared straight ahead. I knew her well enough to know that if she said she’d give us her