The difference between day and night was hard to judge under the surface of Premahyneria, but it felt like night, with their stomachs full and their limbs loose and weary. Outside the window of the royal guest chamber the capital city spread out above and below them. The reception cavern had been large but this part of the city was far larger. They could not see the top, and at the bottom was a huge underground lake that lapped against the walls. Hynerians constantly dived in and out to fish, to socialize, to worship and to lay eggs. They took the water and used it to melt the soil and expand the empire outward, downward, whatever.

John and Aeryn sat in a round window looking down on the activity. She leaned back against his chest and he played with her hair. His heartbeat drummed against her back. They were both still dressed and still packing heat. Neither was eager to disarm. Dar laid on a soft blanket on the floor beside them, on his back, playing with the Moya-mobile John had made from ship's parts. There was another reason for their closeness, besides the usual one: the Galaxy had yet to invent a surveillance device that could capture what lovers murmured in each other's ears.

"Did you enjoy yourself at the state dinner?" said Aeryn.

"Oh, yes, the majools were excellent. And how about those cucumber sandwiches?"

"I saw you talking to the proconsul."

"And the junior secretary. And the propaganda minister. I think she wanted me."

"You were having fun."

"I always have fun," said John.

"I don't like being kept," said Aeryn. "What do you think is going on?"

"I think," said John, "that Rygel is afraid I'm gonna figure out why he's here before he figures out why we're here. What do you think?"

"I want to go home," said Aeryn.

"Okay," he said brightly. "Let's do that."

"We can't leave Rygel and Chiana."

"Rygel dug his own mudhole," said John. "God knows what scam he's trying to pull."

"Maybe he's serious."

"Then we really should go home," said John. Their coms ticked twice. "Oh."

Here we go, thought Aeryn. "You're planning something."

"Well." He kissed the back of her neck and she shivered. "This morning I woke up and remembered it was your birthday."

She laughed at the sudden change of subject. "All right."

He tucked her hair behind her ear and nibbled the lobe. "And I thought, you know, what do I get for the girl who has everything? I mean, I could take you out for a good time."

"Eh," said Aeryn.

He shrugged. "Or we could stay in and have a really good time."

"Mm. Better."

"Right? I thought so. Or—" He paused. There was a loud electric hum and then all the lights went out. Not just in their room. In the whole capital city. A moment later the lights came on again. "Or I could take you someplace exotic, and make sure that we had a really, really private room," he said, without whispering. He got out of the window and sat up.

Aeryn grinned. "You disabled their surveillance system."

"I just do what I think will make you happy," said John. "Wanna go hunting?"

"How long do we have?" Aeryn said.

"They'll have to go circuit by circuit and replace all the breakers," said John. "It'll be two arns before they can even figure out how Pilot frelled their communications."

"Who takes Dar?"

"Let's throw for it," he said.

Aeryn threw paper. John threw scissors. She picked up their dozy child and bound him to her with a cloth. "I'm recon," said Aeryn.

"And I'll go have that overdue chat with Lord Slugworth." John held up two fingers. "Two arns."

"One and a half," she said. "Rain check on the really good time."

"God I love you."

They kissed. John put his fingers to his lips and touched the top of Dar's head.

"Love you," she said. "Only—"

"What?" said John.

"I don't have a birthday," said Aeryn.

"Ah, honey." John checked the cartridge on his pulse pistol. He gave her a fierce grin. "Everybody's got a birthday." He pointed at her and winked. And then he was gone.

"Be careful," said Aeryn, suddenly alone.

#

John would go down to the Dominar's chambers, two levels below them, so Aeryn decided to go up. She strode down the High Hall with some confidence. When Rygel said every courtesy, he'd meant it. They were allowed free travel in the palace and grounds, free access to their transport pod, and they had been permitted to keep their guns and coms, though that had been a case of averting a diplomatic incident. Both she and John wore silver sigil rings that controlled the doors and marked them as personal friends of the Dominar. Aeryn thought Rygel was trying to recruit them; John just thought he was scared drenless.

She did not have a specific agenda. She wanted the lay of the land: geography and firing lines, potential allies, details of the situation. She judged the territory as neutral-to-benevolent, but it was also uncertain. "In a potentially hostile zone," she said to Dar, "it's important to stay alert. The further you can project your senses the better off you are. Are you alert, little one?" She bent down to check on him. He peeked out of his wrapping. He had one hand stuffed into his mouth. "Well you have your father's eyes," she said, patting his warm back. "Let's hope you got the Sebacean sense of vision." In her estimation it was only right that D'argo get the best of both of them: her superior senses, his resistance to heat delirium, her self-control, his kindness. "Incidentally," she whispered, "I may have mentioned it before, but try not to grow up to be a lunatic. I'm not sure I can manage two."

The baby gurgled and nuzzled her.

Most of all she hoped that he would never in his life hear the word wormhole, but that was not too likely. Wormholes had entered the history books in a big way. But it would be a long time before Dar had to have some kind of formal education—three or four cycles at least. Not long enough. But maybe long enough to prepare him. Their child would, of course, be unusually intelligent and resourceful.

"We're here," she said. She ducked under a low door and into a dimly-lit cavern.

Every palace had guards and soldiers, and so every palace had a place like this: a place for off-duty men and women to socialize, spend their wages and find someone to recreate with. A soldier's bar was a hotbed of intrigue and a cesspool of rumor and innuendo. A great place to begin an intelligence-gathering mission. She sashayed up to the bar and dropped some brandar tiles in front of the robot bartender. "Fillip nectar, please."

The bartender's eyes glowed dark red at the baby bundled against her chest.

"He'll have two," said Aeryn. "Make sure to include some nipples."

Robots, she thought. Who would put robots in charge of their bar? Was that service? She popped the top of the fillip bottle and took the smallest sip. She spun around on her seat and rested her elbows on the bar. It was almost all Hynerian palace guards. Enough Sebacean mercenaries that she didn't stand out—much. Since the war a good number of Peacekeepers had quit the military and gone freelance, and it was no longer very unusual to find them protecting anyone with money—or so she had heard. Hynerian royalty certainly counted. She wondered what the endgame of all that would be. The end of Sebacean isolationism? The collapse of the blood bias?

She could only hope.

A female sat elbow-to-elbow with her at the bar. She was dressed in a tiny gray tank top and an even smaller skirt, showing off a fresh tattoo on her belly and a diamond in her belly button. The pretty circlet she had worn in court had been replaced by a single silver earring, though the dense Hynerian script on it still marked her as the Dominar's favorite.

"Chiana," said Aeryn, without making eye contact.

"You brought the narl?"

Aeryn put the bottle to her lips again. "Where should I leave him? With Pilot?"

"Is Crichton with you?"

Aeryn shook her head.

"Why are you here?" said Chiana.

"Why are you here?" Aeryn replied.

She pouted. "Me? I'm just lonely."

"Just tell me. I won't judge you. Are you on Rygel's side," Aeryn asked, "our ours?"

"We have sides now?"

"Apparently."

"Then I'm on whichever side is going to be the most fun. So far, Rygel's winning."

"We were attacked," said Aeryn. "By Hynerian assassins. They found us in the Uncharted Territories and they got onboard Moya. They got close, Chi."

Chiana was silent for a moment. Then she swallowed. "And you think Rygel would do that?"

"No," said Aeryn. "But I'm sure he knows who and why."

"Where is Crichton?" Chiana asked.

"Busy."

"Do I need to call the Palace Guard?"

"Only the ones you don't like," said Aeryn.

"I wish you hadn't come," said Chiana. "You should have just stayed out of it."

"Yes, I'm sure you and Rygel have it all zipped up," said Aeryn. She finished her bottle of nectar and got up. "Catch you later."

Chiana caught her arm. She stood up and nestled close. "Don't go."

"For frell's sake, Chiana." Aeryn closed her hands on the girl's wrists.

"I'm not free to speak," Chiana murmured in Aeryn's ear. "Things get really knotted-up around here when I speak." She squeezed Aeryn's hands.

"We can help you," said Aeryn.

"I don't need your help," she said. "I'm doing okay. I have a life. It's strange and complicated and it's—not what I imagined. But I don't want to go back to Moya. I can't."

"Fine," said Aeryn.

Chiana embraced her. "Go to the Royal Observatory. Here's an access chip." She folded Aeryn's hand around a small metal coaster.

"What's there?"

"Something you need to see," Chiana whispered. "I'm done."

"Chi—" Aeryn started.

She kissed Dar on the forehead. "You give it to 'em, narl. For your Aunt Chi." She put her cheek to Aeryn's and hugged her. "Tell Crichton he's still my best guy."

Aeryn sighed. "He loves you too."

"I know." Chiana turned around and tossed a fistful of brandar tiles at the bartender. She made a looping gesture. The music got loud and hard, with a thumping baseline. Chiana threw a rueful smile over her shoulder and shimmyed over to a young Sebacean. She hooked a finger around his belt and dragged him onto the dance floor.

Aeryn was halfway out the door before she realized she'd been pickpocketed.

#

The Royal Observatory was on the highest level of Premahyneria's underground palace. As Aeryn climbed stairs and hopped elevators, she began to see windows. She was ascending a mountain. Real windows looking out onto the wild and muddy surface. Purple fields of leethflower grew everywhere in a circular crop pattern. Farming.

"That was your Kaa D'argo's dream," said Aeryn to her son. "Can you imagine?"

The baby fussed and his little legs spasmed.

"Don't worry, little one," said Aeryn. "It's not for us."

She stepped off the elevator and into a large round edifice. It was constructed of cut stone and metal scaffolding: the first construction she had seen on the planet that was neither cave nor lake nor swamp. One half of the circle was rusting metal balconies; they went up three levels.

The other half of the circle was—well, it was a pearlescent screen.

"Hynerians didn't build this," Aeryn murmured. This was Sebacean work. A telescope for scientific measurements. It had not been maintained for some years, but there were signs of recent activity. Sagging banners and flags on the balcony walls. A dusty podium.

She went over to the control node and put Chiana's key on its flat surface. She settled it into the lock and turned it slowly.

The screen flickered, flickered, and—

"Frell me!" She backed up suddenly, tripped over a cable and fell onto her backside. The baby burst into loud, frightened screams. Aeryn checked him for injuries, curled her arm around him and stroked his head. "Don't look," she told him. But she could not help but look.

Projected on the screen, throwing off measurements and equations in Sebacean astronomical shorthand, was a—what was that? It was like a horrible burn hole up among the stars. Not a wormhole. Not a wormhole weapon either. It didn't grow and expand like John's wormhole weapon. It wasn't, it wasn't, it was not. Her hands trembled. Her stomach churned. It had painfully bright red edges and a center like the bluest Earth sky. It would be very bad for John to be alone when he saw this.

She touched her coms.

"Don't," said a voice from the dark.

Her pulse gun was in her hand, and her arm was curled around Dar's body to shield him. Every hair in her body stood up. "Show yourself!"

"Peace," said the voice. "Upon John Crichton's soul, I mean you no harm."

A figure emerged from the shadows. He stepped into the red light of the screen.

"That's far enough," said Aeryn.

The man showed her his empty hands. He turned slowly. He was unarmed. Not that Scorpius had ever needed a weapon to hurt the people she loved.

"Stay where you are." Aeryn holstered her gun. "And don't ever swear by his soul again."

"My apologies," said Scorpius. "But there are so very few things we both cherish, Aeryn Sun."