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whining.”
    “Maybe,” Judith said eagerly, “we should call the space port, ask…”
    She stopped herself, shook her head. “I forgot. That would start questions, and while our enemies might like questions and the scandal they might generate, that’s the last thing we want.”
    Michael nodded. His dark brown gaze was abstracted, watching the datafeed, but his voice was perfectly alert.
    “Judith, I don’t care about the scandal, neither will Elizabeth when she understands why I did it. Just let me…”
    “No!” Judith said firmly. “I’m glad you and the Queen would be so willing to accept disgrace, but disgrace is the least of this. If the alliance with Grayson is disrupted, lives will be lost. How can I sacrifice someone else—many someone elses—for anyone, even my own daughter?”
    And, she thought to herself, how can I sacrifice you, who have been my friend? I know I should care more about Ruth, and I do care more about Ruth, but I care about you, too, Michael Winton. I care…
    “Judith,” Michael said quietly, “if it comes down to a choice between letting them get away with Ruth and our calling in reinforcements, I’m calling in the reinforcements.” He looked up from his display for a moment. “If we get her back, the scandal will be survivable, trust me, and I am not losing your daughter.”
    “Michael—” she began, then stopped herself.
    What am I going to say to him? How noble can I be? This is my child. The trigger for our entire escape was to save her from being aborted by Ephraim, murdered before she was even born! God only knows what he’ll do to her now, if only to punish me. I can’t let her be handed back over to him, but I can’t hurt Michael, either, so—
    She forced her mind away from those uncomfortable thoughts and said aloud, “I’m tired of being used. Even if permitting someone to use you shamefully would get Ruth back, how could I ever feel safe again? No. I’ll get her back. We’ll get her back, without giving them any of the scandals they want, and then…”
    The words trailed off into inarticulate fury, but Judith was saved from having to explain what one lone refugee could do against those who had orchestrated this kidnapping by a sharp beep from Michael’s minicomp.
    “Match!” he said. “I’ll bring up the image.”
    He did. It showed a delightfully domestic unit. A man, a woman, and a sleepy little boy in a pram. The man was guiding along a trunk that hovered on anti-grav skids. The woman pushed the pram. Both looked peaceful as they turned to follow signs directing them to “private vessels.”
    “That woman doesn’t look anything like the one Judith was designing,” Todd said dubiously. “The H.S. lady looked like a Valkyrie turned executive secretary. This one is almost dumpy.”
    “Near perfect match,” Michael said satisfied. “The program ignores the things that have distracted you like hair color, weight, and attire. It focuses on subtleties like posture, shape of the eye, bone structure.”
    “Is that little boy…” Judith asked.
    “Even a closer match,” Michael said. “They’ve cut her hair and darkened it, changed her clothes. With her asleep, she’s not going to be talking and giving anything away. And—” he smiled thinly “—they lost time doing it, too.”
    He shook his head to dissuade further conversation. “I want to track where they’re headed.”
    No one spoke as the images zipped down corridors, through tubes, and down underpasses. The little family never paused, but they never hurried either. They acted like what they seemed: a moderately well-off family, heading back to their ship.
    Perhaps the father worked for a company located on Sphinx or Gryphon, and had brought the family to the city with him for the day. A nice outing. Now they’d take the company ship back home.
    Or perhaps they were wealthy enough to own a ship of their own. Interplanetary vessels were not as expensive as hyper capable. As the Star