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with streaks of black. She wore tastefully designed chrome-rimmed glasses. She was old enough to be his grandmother. Legroeder glanced at Vinnie, who winked. A real looker . But she moved with an energy that Legroeder did not associate with older women. "Renwald Legroeder?" She extended a hand. "I'm Mrs. Harriet Mahoney. I've arranged for your release."
    Legroeder shook her hand. "Pleased to meet you. And—thanks, I guess. Will you think I'm ungrateful if I ask, Who are you? "
    She smiled. "I may be your only friend at the moment. If you would consent to join me for breakfast, I'd be happy to explain. I've been over your release forms, and they're all in order."
    Legroeder stared at her. "Are you a lawyer or something?"
    Mahoney adjusted her glasses. "That is correct. It's my understanding that you need a lawyer. Yes?"
    "Well—"
    "I've posted your bond, and you're free to leave. You're prohibited from leaving the planet, however, pending your hearing with the Spacing Authority. Is that satisfactory to you?" She peered intently over the tops of her glasses.
    Legroeder shrugged. "Do I have any choice?"
    Mrs. Mahoney's eyes twinkled. "None that I can see. Shall we get out of here and have breakfast?"
    Legroeder pursed his lips. "Can I visit a friend in the hospital first?"
     
    * * *
     
    He gazed down at Maris for a long time. She lay motionless in the hydro-bed, the scars on her face and neck not looking much better under the clear bandages than they had when he'd first brought her in. But it wasn't the scars that bothered him; it was the stillness. Whatever had most damaged her was invisible. According to the doctors, her basic physiological signs were strong; but with the raider implants controlling certain basic cortical functions, they couldn't predict when—or if—she'd return to consciousness. "We just don't have much experience with these augmentation devices," one of the doctors said. "It's hooked so deeply into her autonomic nervous system that we don't dare meddle with it—not without knowing more. But if there's no activity in a week or so, we'll try some cortical stimulation and see what happens."
    Legroeder touched Maris's forearm. Fellow prisoner. Comrade in arms. He knew little about her life before her capture by the pirates. She was taken from a ship he didn't know the name of. They'd served together a few times on raider missions. But really... it was those two or three minutes on the maintenance dock, when they'd made the decision to trust each other, that had bound them together. He gripped her limp hand and leaned close to her ear. "You did well, Maris. We're out. We're away from the pirates. You'll be free, just as soon as you pull yourself out of this. Just one more escape." He hesitated. "I have to go and... do some things. Try to clear up a mess. I'll be back... as soon as I can."
    He straightened with a sigh. Rejoining Harriet Mahoney in the hallway, he walked out of the hospital, into the late morning sun.
     
    * * *
     
    Harriet turned out to have a good knowledge of coffee shops in the area, and they settled on one that featured a holosurround of a desert, complete with spike bushes, umbrella trees, and a proliferation of desert flowers. A spring ran past their table—real rock and real water—and for the first time in years, Legroeder had the feeling that if he stayed in this place long enough, he might conceivably begin to relax. Or he might, if he weren't bristling with questions. He held most of them long enough to wolf a plate of waffles and drink a mug of—not just real coffee, but good coffee. He had forgotten what the aroma of good coffee was like, filling the air around his head.
    Finally he said, "Mrs. Mahoney—or should I call you—?"
    "Harriet," she said, resting her teacup in its saucer. "Please. I hate formal names. They make me feel old."
    "All right. Harriet. Is there a Mr. Mahoney?"
    "There was. He passed away almost twenty years ago."
    "I'm sorry."
    A smile twitched at