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stack was an ancient silver chronometer, engraved with the initials O.L.
    Mrs. Lumbaba picked up the chronometer, her hand wavering. Then she shut her eyes and pressed the timepiece to her lips.
    She was making a small sound, Tycho realized, as Japhet leaned in close.
    â€œShe is asking if he suffered,” Japhet said.
    Carlo started to speak, but Tycho beat him to it.
    â€œThe air scrubbers failed, ma’am,” he said. “It would have been like falling asleep.”
    The widow lowered the chronometer and nodded faintly.
    â€œIt was good of you to deliver these things,” Japhet said. “Are the flight logs from the Lucia among them?”
    â€œUnder salvage law, the logs are considered components of the ship,” Carlo said.
    â€œI see,” Japhet said, his eyes hard.
    Carlo turned to smile at Mrs. Lumbaba.
    â€œMa’am, your husband mostly searched for platinum, isn’t that right?” he asked.
    The widow opened her eyes and murmured something.
    â€œWhat did she say?” Carlo asked, leaning forward eagerly.
    Yana kicked Carlo in the ankle, but he only gave her a puzzled glance, then turned to find Japhet glaring at him.
    â€œMy father never spoke of such things with his family,” Japhet said. “You have kept the flight logs for yourself—find your own answers.”
    â€œForgive us, Mr. Lumbaba,” Tycho said. “We didn’t mean—”
    â€œMy mother is tired,” Japhet said, getting to his feet. “Thank you for returning my father’s things. I will take you back to the landing pad now.”
    Carlo looked like he wanted to protest, but Yana and Tycho were already getting to their feet. He nodded glumly, gathered up his helmet and gloves, and joined his sister and Japhet at the door.
    Tycho, though, stopped where Captain Lumbaba’s widow sat slumped on her stool, cradling the chronometer. He lowered himself to one knee, and her hollowed eyes turned to meet his.
    â€œI’m very sorry for your loss, ma’am,” Tycho said quietly. “I hope your husband is at peace.”
    The widow Lumbaba nodded at him. Tycho stood and offered her a low bow. Japhet Lumbaba stood in the doorway, watching him.
    They rode the elevator in silence, eyes fixed straight ahead. It wasn’t until they reached the customs house that Japhet spoke.
    â€œMaster Hashoone,” he said.
    All three siblings looked at him, but he was looking at Tycho.
    â€œWe have air scrubbers at Kraken Station too,” he said. “If they failed, I do not think it would be like falling asleep.”
    â€œI’m afraid that’s true,” Tycho said.
    Japhet nodded.
    â€œThank you for not saying this,” he said. “Some truths are better not shared.”
    Tycho started to reply, but before he could, someone shrieked and heads turned throughout the dome. He looked over Japhet’s shoulder and saw a thin old woman in a baggy robe staggering through the crowd, one finger outthrust accusingly.
    For a moment he thought it was the widow Lumbaba, but this woman was far older, and her eyes were wild and staring.
    â€œGrandmother!” Japhet said, pushing through the curious onlookers.
    â€œTHIEVES!” screamed the old woman, spit flying from her mouth. “THIEVES AND MURDERERS!”
    Her bony finger was pointing straight at them.
    Japhet tried to calm the old woman, but she flailed at him with surprising strength, her fury still directed at the Hashoones. The Huygens-Cassini workers around were staring, as were the rough-looking spacers.
    â€œMy son spent his life searching for the secret of the Iris !” she screamed. “And when he found it, these filthy outsiders murdered him for it!”
    â€œWe need to go,” said Carlo, his voice low but urgent. “Head for the airlock. Do it now .”
    Japhet dragged the old woman away, still screaming, as the Hashoones began to walk quickly in the other direction.