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little Fiona, in his arms. His right hand held her head in place. He clearly didn’t want her to see this.
    “I’m not getting anything on my links,” Berhane said.
    “The mayor’s been murdered,” someone said across the terminal.
    Reaction rumbled through the crowd, everyone talking at once. Berhane’s stomach clenched.
    Of course. O’Malley’s. Another Anniversary Day commemoration. Mayor Arek Soseki lived for that stuff. He loved glad-handing people. He never seemed to think about the lives lost—not anymore.
    Then she caught herself.
    She knew Arek. He was dead?
    “That can’t be true,” she said. “I would know.”
    But how would she know? She was her father’s daughter, not her father.
    An employee with the port stood on one of the departure desks. He was a slender man in a Space Traffic Control uniform.
    “Listen,” he said. “I’ve got confirmation. The mayor was murdered this morning, and they’re searching for his killer. The port’s in lockdown until further notice. I’m sure it won’t take long. They just need to make certain that whoever attacked him didn’t board any of the outgoing ships…”
    “Dammit,” the man beside Berhane said softly. “I don’t want Fee in the middle of this. Is there a lounge around here or someplace that’ll be quiet?”
    “There’s a children’s area on the second floor of this departure lounge.” She knew because she’d come here so many times with her family, especially when she was younger. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
    She pushed her way through the crowd, all of whom were staring at the screens or listening to the Space Traffic employee.
    “…like this before. It usually takes an extra hour. We’re sorry for the inconvenience…”
    She led the man up a flight of stairs. He kept pace with her. No one else was going up. A lot of people and a few aliens were on the other stairway, coming down.
    She reached the top of the stairs. Screens danced in front of her, some interacting with her links, all of them showing the exterior of O’Malley’s.
    Shut off all but emergency links , she sent to her system, just for the moment. She wasn’t able to process what was going on—not yet, anyway.
    To her left, screens continued. More people, and several different groups of aliens, watched. To her left, the screens vanished. An opaque group of walls protected the children from all the turbulence outside of the children’s area.
    “It’s for babies, mostly, and children who still need daily naps,” Berhane said to the man. “But I think they’ll let you two inside for a while.”
    The man was holding little Fiona sideways so that she couldn’t see the screens.
    “’Swrong?” she asked Berhane.
    “I don’t know yet, sweetie,” Berhane said. “I don’t think anyone does. But nothing’s wrong with us.”
    “Nu-uh,” Fiona said. “You were crying before.”
    Of course, she had seen that. Her little hand was still clenched around the ring.
    The man’s gaze met Berhane’s. He was about to say something, but she needed to speak first.
    “That man who was talking to me before I met you,” Berhane said, “he was mean to me, and made me cry. But you made me smile.”
    Fiona frowned, as if she didn’t understand why. “Me?”
    “Yes,” Berhane said. “You were nice to me.”
    Fiona grunted, as if she didn’t quite understand that, but she wasn’t going to argue with it.
    Her father kissed the top of her head.
    “You’ve been kind to us,” he said. “I don’t know why—”
    Berhane waved him silent. She didn’t want to talk about it. She wanted to find out what was going on.
    “If you ever need anything, not that I can probably help you with anything, considering,” he said, “but if you do, I’m Donal Ó Brádaigh. I was just here to say good-bye to someone. I live in Armstrong.”
    He probably knew that she lived in Armstrong as well.
    “Thank you,” she said. “I’ll remember that.”
    She hoped she didn’t sound