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are continually tormenting populations at the edges of New Occident—even more so in the Indian Territories. But,” he continued sadly, “it goes the other way, too. Ships sail from Seminole every day under our flag and then, once they’re out on the sea, they lower ours and raise a pirate flag. And raiding parties from New Occident go into the Baldlands as often as they come out of them.” He paused. “That is why the boy you saw on the wharf, Soph, was a captive.”
    “You mean he was kidnapped in the Baldlands?”
    “Most likely. They would probably claim that they found him in New Occident and that he somehow broke the law, but most certainly he was taken in a raid, and the circus bought him from the raiders as the newest addition to their show.” His voice was bitter.
    “That’s despicable.” Sophia was thinking of how calm the boy had seemed and of how he had stepped up to the bars, as if about to speak to her.
    “It is.” The Elli side of the family, Shadrack and Minna, were all from Boston. But the Timses came from many different places, and Sophia’s great-grandparents had been slaves; after the rebellion, they helped to found the new state of New Akan in 1810. Their son, Sophia’s grandfather, had moved to Boston to attend the university. “Sophia’s great-grandfather was only seventeen when slavery ended,” Shadrack explained to Mrs. Clay. Then he turned to Sophia. “It must have shaken you to see a boy behind bars like that.”
    “This is what I don’t understand,” the housekeeper said. “Surely people in New Occident see that almost everyone here was once from somewhere else—everyone has a foreigner in their past.”
    “Yes, but what we have seen today,” Shadrack replied, “is what happens when fear overwhelms reason. The decision is illogical. It makes no sense to deport some of our finest laborers, merchants, and tradespeople, not to mention mothers, fathers, and friends. They will live to regret it.”
    The three sat silently for a while, gazing, each with their own preoccupations, at the empty kitchen table. Sophia sat with her head resting on Shadrack’s shoulder. He stirred a moment later, as if something had just occurred to him. “Mrs. Clay, I apologize. You came in an hour ago quite distressed, and I was full of my own concern for Sophia. We should discuss how we will get papers for you, since there is no time to acquire them through the proper channels.” Shadrack shook his head. “Naturalization can take months—sometimes years. We will have to find other means.”
    She looked at him gratefully. “Thank you, Mr. Elli. You are very kind. But it is late, and neither you nor Sophia have eaten. We can speak another time—I do not wish to impose.” She rose tentatively to her feet and patted the bun at the nape of her neck, tucking stray hairs into place.
    “Nonsense,” Shadrack said, gently putting Sophia aside. “You’re right, we haven’t eaten. And neither have you.” He looked at his watch. “I will get in touch with Carlton. Tonight, if possible.” Carlton Hopish, fellow cartologer and Shadrack’s friend from the university, worked for the Ministry of Relations with Foreign Ages and owed Shadrack more favors than either of them could count. Thanks to his friendship with the most knowledgeable cartologer in New Occident, Carlton always seemed to be the most informed member of government; and Shadrack, in turn, always managed to be conveniently apprised of classified government information. “As a beginning step, I’ll write him a note tonight about getting expedited papers for you—may as well try the legal route first. Will you stay to have dinner with us? No one should have to bear such ill news as we heard today alone. Please,” he added, when he saw Mrs. Clay hesitate.
    “Very well. Thank you for your kindness.”
    “Soph, can you wait to eat a little while longer while I write to Carlton and discuss things with Mrs. Clay?” Shadrack asked with