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"Suljan and Hayashi are heading for another tether. They begged Branco to let them out before, but he fobbed them off, he said there was no need. I guess the builders changed their mind."

Tchicaya jogged through the bottom level of his own accommodation module. He was still three modules away from the shuttle. "So they thought they could deal with it, but then they realized they couldn’t?" He struggled to make sense of this. The tethers clearly weren’t made of anything smart enough to impede the rebels, or dispose of them directly; the insides of the modules were endlessly reconfigurable, but it probably never occurred to the builders that these cables would require any property but tensile strength. "What were they pinning their hopes on?" he mused. "Picking them off with debris-clearance laser? You’d think that would either be technically feasible, or not."

"Maybe they had some last-minute moral qualms."

"These people are either trying to hijack the ship, or to destroy it, and they’re free to send backups wherever they like. Their memories are in their own hands. I doubt Branco would have had any scruples about vaporizing them, if it were possible."

Rasmah said, "He might have been outvoted."

Tchicaya asked the ship to show him an image of her. The lone figure was only about five or six meters up the kilometer-long cable, but she was ascending rapidly: gripping the slender braid of monofilaments with her knees, reaching up, dragging her body another arm’s-length higher. At least at the hub she’d have a negligible velocity; if she ended up floating, he’d have plenty of time to reach her in the shuttle.

Tchicaya said, "Let me see through your eyes."

"Why?"

"Just for a moment. Please."

Rasmah hesitated, then sent him the vision. She looked down at the shiny globe of the module beneath her, then up across the spoked wheel of the ship, toward the faint glint of her quarry on the tether a quarter of a turn away. On her right, the dazzling plain of the border was as serene and immutable as ever.

"I’m not afraid of heights," she said dryly. "Stop fretting about me." She cut off the image.

"I’m not," Tchicaya lied.

"I just spotted Suljan emerging. Look, I’m not on my own here. Just get to the shuttle! If there’s anything to tell you, I’ll call back."

"All right."

As his sense of her presence faded, Tchicaya broke into a run. He’d been wasting time trying to piece everything together; he didn’t need to know exactly what the rebels were planning. Rasmah’s logic was sound. He hated not being beside her, but she’d trusted him with another task, and he had to dedicate himself to it, unswervingly.

He raced past people in the corridors and on the walkways, without stopping to shout questions or exchange hypotheses. If there was solid information being passed around, it would reach him eventually, wherever he was. Within minutes, he was dripping with sweat; the ship’s bodies stayed reasonably fit by sheer biochemical fiat, but his own had been neither designed nor trained for speed. Refusing to be swayed by discomfort was easy, but there were limits that had nothing to do with pain.

Yann appeared suddenly, sprinting beside him. "Rasmah said you’re heading for the shuttle. How much free storage do you have in your Qusp?"

"Not enough for a passenger. I’m sorry."

Yann shook his head, amused. "I don’t need a ride. I’m entirely used to not having my Qusp on legs, and I’m not worried about getting my memories elsewhere. But if you’re stranded, you might need some assistance."

Tchicaya replied purely by radio, to save his breath. "That’s a good idea. But like I said, I don’t have storage for a second person."

"I didn’t expect you would," Yann said. "I’ve prepared a toolkit; it’s only a few exabytes, but it encompasses everything I know about the far side. Everything I’ve learned from Suljan, Umrao, and the others, and everything I’ve worked out for myself. Of course, all of this is useless if you don’t have access to the border, so I’m organizing a vote on ceding control of the Left Hand to you."

Tchicaya didn’t reply. Yann said, "You probably don’t want all this riding on your shoulders, but believe me, we’re doing our best to avoid that."

Tchicaya said, "What can they do up there?"

"Don’t worry about that. Just get to the shuttle, and move away as fast as you can. We’ll call you back once it’s safe."

"Assuming the rebels don’t steal the shuttle first." He checked the view; it was still in place.

Yann said, "They can’t steal it; the builders have disabled it. Branco has agreed to release it once you’re onboard. Now stop arguing, and take the toolkit."

Tchicaya instructed his Mediator to accept the package. Yann added cheerfully, "Let’s hope you don’t need it."