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do not.” Three strong arms came around me as the Omorr embraced me. Against the top of my head, he muttered, “You will send regular relays, and let me know that you are well and not being abducted, enslaved, or otherwise harmed. Or I will come after you myself.”
    “I promise.”
    I left Squilyp at the gate, where he stood and watched me until I reached the docking pad and the ramp to the scout ship, where Reever was waiting. I turned and lifted a hand. The Omorr scowled as he returned the gesture, and hopped back to the glidecar. “Husband,” I said as I inspected the vessel, which in close proximity seemed rather small. “This will be
    our transport?” “She’s called Moonfire ,” he told me. “The very latest in Jorenian research vessels, scout class.” I set down my case and walked around the nose. “The latest, or the smallest?” “The latest,” he said firmly. “And the fastest.” Although Moonfire was hardly larger than a standard ship-to-surface launch, it had a sleek, narrow
    shape made glossy by hundreds of thousands of dark green, rectangular hull plates. A row of round, deep-space transceiver ports formed an arch over the blue-green viewer panels. The fuselage expanded and divided itself into five curved propulsion thrusters, which cradled a small escape pod. The ship could have easily been mistaken for the be-jeweled, clawed hand of some enormous deity.
    “It is a beautiful little thing,” I told my husband. “But hardly inconspicuous.” “On the contrary.” Reever took a small device out of his pocket. “The Zamlon have been experimenting with various types of vessel camouflage.” He put his thumb to the device, and a purple halo of light appeared at the scout’s nose, illuminating the dark green hull plates briefly before they began to fade. In another moment the ship had vanished from sight.
    The corner of Reever’s mouth curled in a rare show of amusement. “It didn’t go anywhere. Go ahead, reach out and touch it.”
    I peered at the place where the ship had stood, and saw the very faintest transparent distortion rippling the air. When I reached out, I felt a strange, cool vibration and then the solid surface of the hull. Beneath the shadow of my palm and forearm, a section of the dark green panels reappeared.
    “The hull plates are programmed to respond to the environment,” Reever told me. “When activated, they project an image that matches the ship’s surroundings.”
    “A ship covered in devious mirrors.” I shook my head. “Ensleg wonders never cease.”
    Reever and I boarded the scout, and as he took the helm and prepared for our launch I stowed my medical case and took a brief look at the rest of the ship.
    Moonfire offered two small living chambers, a tiny galley, and storage compartments filled with equipment and provisions. The propulsion systems and environmental controls took up the rest of the space. It would be cramped, but compared to the ice cave krals in which I lived on Akkabarr, it seemed a palace.
    I joined Reever at the helm and, at his gesture, sat down in the copilot’s seat and fastened the launch harness across my shoulders and torso. I did not touch the wide panel of controls, viddisplays, and databanks in front of me. “To where do we journey first?”
    “I have arranged to meet with Alek Davidov,” he said, referring to the trader who had once helped him free Hsktskt slaves. “He has many connections among the free traders. He can help us track the one that issued the bounty on you. He may also be able to help us discover who planted the grenade on your patient.”
    I had not met any other Terrans besides Reever. “Do you trust him?”
    He turned to me, as if surprised at the question. “Davidov posed as a slaver for many years. He used his family’s wealth to buy and free thousands taken by the Faction during raids. To my knowledge, he has never asked for recompense from any of them.”
    “Then he is a generous man for a Terran,”