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had also helped that Tomansio
and Beckia had bounced over to his fight within seconds, adding their firepower
and aggression. Yet he’d held by himself for those first few vital moments; the
feeling was the same as on the Hanko mission back in the good old days, flying
nearly suicidal maneuvers above the star because it was necessary .
    Now, the morning after, guilt was starting to creep back. Maybe he should
have shown some restraint, some consideration for the innocent bystanders
trying to fling themselves clear—though a deeper rationality knew full well
that he had had to cover Araminta’s escape. The fate of the Commonwealth had
hung on that moment, determining which faction would grab her. Perhaps that was
why he’d fought so ruthlessly: He knew he had to
succeed. The alternative was too horrific to consider—or allow.
    Certainly Tomansio and Beckia had shown a measure of respect that had
been absent before. He just wished he’d earned it some other way.
    Their borrowed capsule left the Ellezelin forces base in the docks and
curved around to cruise above the Cairns, heading for the big single-span
bridge.
    “Somebody must have got her,” Beckia said; it had almost become a mantra.
After they all got clear from the fight in Bodant Park, they’d spent the rest
of the night helping Liatris search for the elusive Second Dreamer. Her
disappearance was partially their own fault; Liatris had killed every sensor
within five kilometers of the park. They’d been so desperate for her to get
away that the measure was justified at the time; what surprised them again was
how well she’d done it. Their search hadn’t produced the slightest indication
where she’d gone since she’d run away from Oscar in the park. On the plus side,
no one else who was hunting her (and there were still five functional teams
that Liatris had discovered) had found her, either.
    “Living Dream hasn’t,” Tomansio said calmly. “That’s what we focus on.
Until we confirm her situation, we continue the mission. Right, Oscar?”
    “Right.” He saw her face again, that brief moment of connection when the
startled, frightened girl had stared into him with frantic eyes. She’d seemed
so fragile. How on Earth did she ever stay ahead of everyone? Yet he of all people should know that extraordinary situations so often kindled
equally remarkable behavior.
    “Any luck with the image review?” Beckia asked.
    “No” was Liatris’s curt answer. With Araminta dropping out of sight,
their technology expert had launched a search through old sensor recordings to
see if they could find how she’d arrived at Bodant Park. The Welcome Team had
been analyzing data from every public sensor in the city, trying to track her.
Liatris (and the rival agent teams) had glitched the input to their
semisentients, sending them off on wild-goose chases. But it was a telling
point that none of their own scrutineers had managed to spot her during the
day, not even approaching Bodant Park. The first anyone had determined her
location was when her outraged thoughts burst into the gaiafield at the sight
of her apartments going up in flame. As yet nobody had worked out how she’d
managed to conceal herself. Whatever method she’d used, it had proved equally
effective in spiriting her away during the height of the fight.
    So now Oscar and his team were falling back on two things. One, she would
call him on the code he’d given her, possibly out of gratitude or maybe from
sheer pragmatism. Two, they were following leads like a professional police
detective. Paula would be proud , he thought with a
private smile.
    Despite a barrage of urgent anonymous warnings, the Welcome Team had
arrested most of Araminta’s family, with the notable exception of the
redoubtable Cressida, who had pulled a vanishing act equal to Araminta’s.
They’d all been brought to the Colwyn City docks for “questioning.” Liatris
said Living Dream was bringing in more skilled teams from