Wolf Boy, Chapter 14, Part I

Pan said, “I suppose knowledge can become dangerous. But that isn’t a given. Nothing is. Operating in the dark isn’t automatically non-dangerous.”

“Omission versus commission,” Kaiden said.

“Yes,” Francesca said. “Hoarding knowledge can be a sin.”

Pan and Kaiden laughed while Francesca’s eyes crinkled in a delighted smile, which made Pan wonder how Will had responded to that particular dig.  

Francesca said, “When we returned to Earth after the sainthood investigation on Mars, Will spoke to other Cubi about young Panfilo. Most are not as old as Will though a few are. I cannot speak about them, but in this case, I don’t have to. A Cubus—I’ll call him Rafe—picked up images from a dream he experienced at a Club, the places Cubi go to feed off dreams of volunteer humans.”

Pan and Kaiden nodded. The Mars Station didn’t have a Cubi-Human Club—not enough Cubi officially visited—but such services were discretely offered during the station's conferences.

Francesca said, “The human at the Club was attended by an old Cubus, one from Britain. But the setting was Rome, the original Saint Peter’s Basilica. Cubi can add structures to dreams. They can also add people from their memories. That older Cubus added a man with features similar to yours.”

“The wolf boy grown older.”

“Will says, No. He says Rafe says the man had genetic markers similar to the wolf boy and to you—the violet eyes, the rings around the tail—but the man was not the same boy that Will saw with Bettelin. And again, the location was Rome.”

Pan decided not to pursue the idea of humans and Cubi using religious institutions for their sex dreams. He shook his head slightly at Kaiden who appeared ready to voice his thoughts regarding that revelation.

“Confabulation,” Pan said instead. “Invention.”

“Possibly. But Cubi can recall images from the past in flawless detail. Rafe, the Cubus who witnessed the dream, believed the image was related to a place and time period a hundred or more years after Bettelin.”

All hearsay. No wonder Cubi testimony wasn’t allowed in official courts.

The chapel door cracked open and a figure strode in. Francesca rose and walked down the aisle to meet a man with flaxen fur, tufted ears, and a tail.

Looking over his shoulder, the man said to Francesca, “A couple of security guards practically stripped me. They finally said, ‘Oh, you're him,' and let me in. I’m here with a summons. Revlin, Lady Margaret’s biggest fan, wants you to join the pilgrimage’s welcome-and-farewell party.”

“Revlin was her postulator. And he works here. The pilgrims don’t want to hear from me. They don’t even know who we are.”

The man shrugged. He slouched the way Phillipe did but in a far more insouciant way, his tail drifting over his shoulder.

He said, “Some of them do. Phillipe has gone into hiding. He thinks he’ll be deluged with faith-promoting rumors. He’s probably right. Justin and Victor joined Revlin.”

“Not you?”

“Eh, I figured I’d keep the controversy of my existence to a dull throb. No public appearance.”

“Fine. Yes. I’ll go. Would you escort Pan and Kaiden to our suite?”

“Sure. Will says—”

“I know. I know. He’s going with you.”

Francesca strode out of the chapel at a brisk clip. The man turned to Pan and Kaiden.

Pan thought, I guess I am an Anthros. He could tell this man wasn’t one from his smell, which was human if anything. He must be Xavier, the Cubus who took on an Anthros appearance.

Xavier said, “Francesca's people are stashed in the Constable’s Tower. We have space for you.”

They left the chapel. The bodyguards waited on the sward where they turned in seemingly desultory circles to observe the chapel, the outside walls, the great hall. Voices rose from the great hall in acclaim.

Xavier said, “The pilgrims will head from the Great Hall to the chapel and then begin the first leg by boat to the River Tyne.”

“Not exactly Lady Margaret’s route.”

“No—but a decent compromise. Newcastle upon Tyne and York want their fair shot at the pilgrims.”

Xavier was part of Francesca’s Congregation, Pan remembered. He and Phillipe registered shortly after Xavier became corporeal, so they were practically married. And he’d aided in Lady Margaret’s canonization. Because he was actually interested in Saints? Or to keep in good with the Church?

Political know-how 101: People can have more than one reason. They aren’t always looking for an angle.

Except for all the times they are.  

Xavier led them beyond the castle walls and then back up a straight path. They were closer to the beach that touched the North Sea, and Pan and Kaiden both slowed, nearly tripping up the armed bodyguard behind them. She gripped their arms in surprise and then smiled.

Glancing back, Xavier also smiled. He slowed and leaned his elbows on the low stone wall. Pan and Kaiden did the same. The wide ocean stretched before them, an unending slate gray broken by the slightest ripples of white foam. It was surprisingly placid if one ignored the constant rotating grumble of waves against the long, flat beach.

Wolf Boy, Chapter 13, Part II

Pan knew he was—what was the phrase Allec had dug up from antique movies?—jumping the gun, and he took deep internal breaths. He hadn’t expected to care about his origins. He wanted answers, but he hadn’t predicted the urge to extract them now that that he had a chance. Earth was unsettling him.

Political know-how 101: Don’t determine what matters until I know what matters.

“Or your Cubus is blowing smoke,” Pan said, borrowing another Allec term and attitude.

“No,” Francesca said. “Will isn’t.”

“Did you see what Will saw about Pan?” Kaiden said. “Whatever it is.”

Francesca gave Kaiden a studious stare. He gave back a genial face with a cocked head. Asking what Cubi saw was something everybody wondered but weren’t supposed to ask.

Yet Kaiden said, “Cubi can show people things they’ve seen, things they’ve learned.”

Pan studied Kaiden from his long eyes without turning his head. Lider and Rhys rarely discussed their investigations, preferring to present their conclusions rather than their process. And Lider made a point of presenting evidence that could be admitted human courts. Cubi “hearsay” didn’t count. But that was Rhys and Lider’s public face. They did have an entirely private relationship—to which no one but themselves had access. What did Lider reveal to Rhys?

Kaiden said, “That first investigation—the one that started on the ship—everyone—okay, most people—believe that Lider did an incursion. But it was okay because the guy was—well—really bad.”

Francesca said, “Lider was officially pardoned for that act. He doesn’t share images of the past with Rhys. According to Will.”

“Will says.”

Francesca conceded the point with a stately nod.

Pan said, “Will has shared images with you.”

“Yes.”

“Of Bettelin? And his companion? Do I look like him—that wolf boy?”

“Yes.”

And that means? Pan didn’t ask. There was no point in asking. An observation was an observation only. Meaning got added later.

Francesca must be used to people asking anyway. She said, “Cubi prefer not to give opinions about the human past.”

“Anybody else would,” Kaiden muttered.

An almost wry expression rippled across Francesca’s face. Her brows raised as her eyes focused on the altar. Pan recognized that pensive expression. Rhys did it all the time. Francesca was listening.

She said, “Will reminds us that Cubi are not human. Their pronouncements are often taken as gospel. Or threats. Saints or demons. They are neither. Will, for all his age, is somewhat orthodox. Cubi should remain in their proper sphere—until they become corporeal.”

“Lider isn’t exactly a rebel,” Pan said. “He doesn’t think Cubi should keep information to themselves.”

“Lider chases God. That’s Will’s explanation. Why else would Lider tag a priest?”

“Everybody chases God,” Kaiden said.

“Not everyone has Lider’s faith.”

Pan said, “Is knowledge such a game changer?”

Francesca sighed. “I don’t know. We need it. We can’t move forward without it. We certainly can’t control how others handle it.”

Again, her gaze drifted, this time to the reliquary with Saint Oswald’s arm. 

She said, “Will wonders if you connect your near assassination to a lack of knowledge or—more precisely—to a lack of warning.”

“Is he asking if I blame someone? The Alands for taking me to Mars? The Mars Council for sending me to the station, so my story ended up on the forums? Does he blame himself?”

“Will feels entirely justified in his past actions. At least, he has no regrets. I’m not sure I agree. But he didn’t know you were on Mars until he went there, and he wonders where knowledge takes a person. Can the direction be anticipated?”

Pan could read between the lines.

Where will knowledge take you, Pan?

Did I always intend to become a prince? Before Demographics revealed my Anthros nature? Before Raine and Ruella couldn’t place me? Before I learned I was linked to a medieval saint? 

Whatever Will might guess about the inner workings of Pan’s mind, Pan wasn’t going to vocalize his thoughts. Not yet.
 

Wolf Boy, Chapter 13, Part I

The caravan arrived at Bamburgh Castle. The pilgrims, including Vera and Nanette, descended, some excited, some solemn. Pan and Kaiden got down and stood on tarmac near the stone arch to the castle’s inner ward. Gold, near-pink rock walls rose around them.

A lanky, dark-haired man with what looked like a permanent slouch stepped out of the arch’s shadow. He’d been absorbed in a plastic sheet and gave Pan and Kaiden only cursory glances.

“Panfilo? Yeah, Francesca is in the chapel. Come on.”

He started down a paved path that led into the inner ward. Kaiden tapped him on the shoulder.

“And you are?” he said with a sunny smile.

“Phillipe. Phillipe Jorgensen. Oh, yeah, I’m not an assassin.”

Kaiden continued to smile blandly without moving. Pan saw the armed bodyguards nod approval. Phillipe sighed heavily and gestured to the identity watch on Kaiden’s wrist. Kaiden held out his arm. The watch scanned Phillipe’s fingerprint and sweat and spoke his name. 

“Okay? Let’s go.”

The path took them across the center of the ward. Ahead was anther stone arch with a black, grill gate. It opened onto an expanse of sky.

Philipe said, “Francesca’s waiting in the chapel.”

He motioned to a building of mottled stone mid-way along the ward, then slouched away, passing the armed bodyguards on his way out.

Stepping into the chapel’s portico, Pan took off his cap and sunglasses. Kaiden followed. They entered a narrow nave. It wasn’t as dark as Pan had anticipated but darker than outside. High windows let it a little light. Otherwise, the interior was lit by modern lamps.  

The armed bodyguards didn’t follow. Either they trusted Kaiden or they had surveillance devices already scattered throughout the chapel. Pan wagered the latter.

Inside, Francesca waited in the chancel near the altar. She waited patiently as Pan and Kaiden approached, hands folded in front of her green dress.

“Panfilo. And Kaiden. Welcome.”

His eyes on Francesca’s neat slender form, Kaiden executed a not completely unclassy bow.

Pan said, “Thank you for meeting us.”

“Absolutely,” Kaiden echoed and gazed about the one-room chapel. He motioned to a table against the left wall. A long box sat on the top. “Are your bones—Lady Margaret’s bones—here?”

“No. Her rib is at Runcorn Abbey. This chapel houses Saint Oswald’s relic.”

She led them to the table. Kaiden strolled beside her, hands clasped behind his back, shoulders hunched to meet her height. She was a tall woman and currently wearing heels, so Kaiden didn’t have to stoop too far.

Francesca was at least twenty years older than Kaiden, and she had a Cubus boyfriend slash stalker, so Pan wasn’t worried Kaiden would pursue Francesca like a medieval knight who had pledged troth to a lady.

But he should remember his duties.

Unless Kaiden is verifying Francesca’s identity in a less confrontational way than he did with Phillipe.

Francesca halted. The narrow case on the table had sides and lids of yellowish material carved with circles and flowing lines. Inside the case lay a long grayish object.

“Oswald’s arm,” Francesca said. “He was friends with a monk named Aiden, who eventually founded the monastery on Lindisfarne. When Oswald gave to the poor, Aiden blessed the arm that bestowed those gifts. That is the story.” Francesca elevated a single brow.

“Was Oswald one of your saints?” Pan said.

“No. Thankfully. I’ve enough of medieval saints for a while. Take Oswald’s arm. When he died, he was reportedly dismembered, his body parts, including the arm, placed in various reliquaries and scattered among various churches. They were lost at the time of the Reformation, the arm too.”

“And then retrieved?” Pan said.

“Likely not,” Francesca said. “Bamburgh Castle is a nineteenth-century version of a Norman fortress. The church is a reconstruction of an earlier Anglo-Saxon chapel that stood on the grounds. The arm is a—”

“Fake.”

“Replica. Commissioned from Moon Cloning.”

“Like me—according to your Cubus, Will.”

Francesca made a complicated face—a rueful bemused, slightly sad (Pan thought) smirk. She turned to the folding wooden chairs that served as pews and settled in the front row. Kaiden pulled two more into a small circle. Sitting, Pan noted that Kaiden glanced around the empty chancel before he sat in the chair that faced the outer door.

Still my security officer.

My enforcer.

Francesca said, “Quin and Allec didn’t accompany you.”

Pan said, “Allec is undergoing a life-extension procedure.”

“I hope it is successful. Will they join you at Queen Atria’s court?”

“That’s the plan.”

“Monseigneur Rhys and Canon Lider will join you as well?”

“After they wind up their investigation,” Kaiden said.

“They are on the Moon?”

“Because I look like someone from Will’s past,” Pan said.

Wolf Boy, Chapter 12, Part II

The green of Earth unnerved Pan the most. The artificial gravity on Mars and the station was close enough to Earth gravity that he only felt the slightest unexpected heaviness. Quin said that even in his lifetime, artificial gravity had greatly improved to mimic what humans understood as “natural.” And improved artificial gravity took care of many problems associated with life in space—and on Mars.

His eyes had needed to adjust, but then everyone’s did after being on the ship for nine months. And he was unaccustomed to the speed of Earth vehicles. Mars had vehicles as well as satellites and GPS. But Mars had fewer reference points between destinations. Earth provided so many extra markers: houses and side streets and trees and fields and people and towns. Pan closed his eyes, only to open them again. He didn't want to miss an important milestone.

“Do you feel like you’re home?” he said to Kaiden.

Kaiden arrived on Mars when he was thirteen. He remembered Earth.

He said, “I grew up in Hawaii. So, sure, sort of. Hawaii is warmer and has palm trees though Wales does too. Lots of plants here.”

“Claustrophobic,” Pan muttered.

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to move back to Earth? Someday?”

Kaiden gave him that sideways look that said, The answer to that will embarrass me, which meant that Kaiden was thinking he would go wherever Pan went.

“Do you feel drawn to any particular place?” Kaiden said. “Aren’t Anthros supposed to migrate to forests at the end of their lives?”

“Based on your beliefs, I should want to go to Ancient Egypt.”

“Amunites believe Egyptian beliefs flowed beyond the country’s borders to spread throughout the entire world. Diffusion.”

“What about independent development?”

“Sure. Humans want answers, so societies come up with similar questions.”

“Jungian stuff.”

Kaiden nodded. Kaiden, Pan had decided, was the type whose religious beliefs didn’t require rational justifications. He wasn’t about “angels dancing on the head of a pin” (Lider’s phrase, and then Rhys would say, “Not unless one dreams them up,” and they would both laugh). Pan could see Kaiden’s perspective. Why fuss with reasons when one could concentrate on worship?

Whether Kaiden’s things-are-what-they-are attitude was a suitable trait for a bodyguard was debatable. Shouldn’t his Head of Security be more skeptical?

And now, I’m making up titles. Kaiden is a friend.

Guard.

Henchman.

An earnest woman on the other side of Kaiden leaned forward, her earnest gaze trained on Kaiden and Pan. Pan noted that the other bodyguards, the armed couple, straightened, eyes fixed on the woman.

The woman said, “You realize that Egyptian beliefs laid the foundation for Christianity—”

“Sure,” Kaiden said with a pleasant smile.

“—which superseded those heathen beliefs.”

Another woman leaned forward. “Now, now, Nanette, we respect all beliefs.”

Nanette’s mouth set mulishly. “We have a responsibility to educate the young.”

“I’m twenty-one,” Kaiden said, not defensively. “Born May 7^th. In the Kingdom of Hawaii. One of the Northwestern Islands. My name is Kaiden.” He leaned back, legs crossed at the ankles, ready to converse.

“Vera.” The second woman made a friendly, one-hand wave. “We are Sisters of Saint Mairead, the original name of Saint Margaret, you know.”

“She converted Siphons and Anthros,” Nanette said.

“Not all of them,” Vera said easily. “But she was kind and helpful to all. Are you young men joining the pilgrimage?”

“You are seeking for the truth,” said Nanette, who was apparently the kind of person who defined everyone’s lives in terms of a single narrative.

“We’re visiting Lady Margaret’s shrine,” Kaiden said.

Pan didn’t have to check out the security detail to know they had tensed. How far would Kaiden go in his disclosures?

“We came over from North America,” Kaiden added easily. “Lots of people there are interested in Lady Margaret.”

No mention of Mars, of Monseigneur Rhys and his connections with various Vatican officials, of assassination attempts. And Kaiden grinned at the official bodyguards, who gave him level stares back, only the faintest hint of approbation.

A most suitable henchman.

Head of my security.

Wolf Boy, Chapter 12, Part I

All Panfilo’s people—he avoided referring to them as courtiers directly in his thoughts but the idea was there—got together to arrange his departure from the ship.

When the ship docked at Earth Space Station, Pan and Kaiden disembarked through the supplies passage hook-up. They wore EVA suits and debouched in a service area near the shuttles. From there, personnel got them quickly on-board a shuttle holding mostly station crew who paid them no attention.

Pan had said farewell to Quin and Allec on the ship. They approved Pan’s decision to speak to Will. They planned to meet up in a few weeks’ time. They didn’t seem dismayed by Pan and Kaiden’s decision to travel without an escort.

Quin had spent nearly half his life on Mars. Allec had never been to Earth. On the planet and the station, teenagers held jobs. They traveled between hubs and tiers and from the station to the planet by themselves. Quin and Allec were used to “young people” who acted on their own.

So Pan assumed until he spotted the same man and woman on the train to Northumbria as he’d seen on the shuttle from New LaGuardia. The two carried no luggage, unlike Kaiden who swung the bag he and Pan shared over one shoulder. The woman and man were tall and svelte and moved without making eye contact with passengers or with each other.

Kaiden spotted the "other" bodyguards on the caravan to Bamburgh Castle.

“Not exactly the type of people who worship saints,” he said.

Maybe. Maybe not. Pan wasn’t sure what constituted such a type. Pan had met Francesca Paraclete eight years earlier when she came to Mars with her Congregation to investigate a citizen up for sainthood. Francesca was a woman of medium height with dark hair that she wore in a bob, not a hair out of place. She had a kind of aristocratic face and a remote aura. A woman to emulate if one had to, for example, face down a queen. She was more likely to be a saint than to worship one.

But maybe Francesca prayed earnestly to a dozen saints. Beliefs were personal things, like the thoughts about princehood and leadership that Pan kept to himself.

Which didn’t mean Kaiden didn’t have a point. The svelte man and woman didn’t match the other passengers on the caravan, the ones who obviously worshiped at least one saint. A group of three in the corner were discussing scriptures. A few others were holding reliquaries and ampullae, bottles for holy liquids. One was reciting a story about Saint Margaret of the Northern Seas.

Saint Margaret had been recently canonized (because of Francesca and her Congregation) and the first official pilgrimage from Bamburgh Castle to Runcorn Abbey started that week. Since the journey crossed several kingdoms, the pilgrims had pre-approved travel arrangements.

Not that getting around the British kingdoms was difficult due to scores of treaties and agreements. But some caravans and hostelries demanded check-ins. Those on the official pilgrimage would be escorted the entire way, with detours to important related sites.

Sites relating to Saint Bettelin, the saint with the wolf child, were nearer Runcorn Abbey. But Francesca and her people, including Will, were currently at Bamburgh Castle to attend the pilgrimage’s send off.

(“Kick start,” Rhys called it.

“Launch,” said Lider.)

Kaiden eyed the svelte man and woman. “Not assassins, I guess.”

“Figure I’d be dead by now if they were.”

“Give me some credit.”

“They’re probably armed.”

Kaiden scowled. He’d asked for weapons but carrying even an old-fashioned handgun would involve delays at checkpoints. Which meant the man and the woman weren’t only security—they were official, sanctioned security. A mirror to the pilgrims: armed people with a purpose.

Pan found he didn’t mind having an armed escort and leaned back to watch greenery pass.

Wolf Boy, Chapter 11, Part II

All parts from the costume box.

Pan and Kaiden found Lider questioning a group of youngsters about games on board. Miles was one of the youngsters and gave Pan and Kaiden a cheeky wave.

Lider said, “The ship has an extensive library.”

“Some of the dance games are okay.”

“Charades are better.”

“I’ll tell the captain to keep the costume box,” Lider said.  

The kids chorused agreement and departed.

“Charades and amateur theatrics,” Kaiden said.

“Only for passengers under the age of twelve,” Lider said. “Unless for religious purposes.”

The light on the observation deck was dimmer than in the corridors. Lider appeared more corporeal, a man near Kaiden’s height with what Allec called an Elvin look. Pan could make out the wide mouth and steady gaze. 

He still couldn’t read Lider’s expression, how serious Lider was with his “religious purposes” quip. Pan guessed that Lider could be entirely sincere and acerbic at the same time. Allec maintained that Lider was more spiritual than Rhys, which meant he upheld beliefs in numerous doctrines. Cubi, everyone said, were good at juggling seeming contradictions.

I need an honest Cubus right now.

Pan said, “You and Rhys are investigating something to do with the Moon, something Junad told you about me.”

“Rumors. An investigation requires leads. I’m not sure these count.”

Not an answer.

“That’s sounds totally evasive,” Kaiden muttered.

Pan had good reasons to keep Kaiden around, and Lider smiled. Pan clearly saw the lips tip upwards.

Lider said, “Francesca’s Cubus—”

“Arysllwr,” Pan said.

“Yes. Will. He thinks a connection may exist between you and a medieval saint.”

Kaiden whistled. Pan nodded. A connection may exist between you and a medieval saint sounded like one of his mother’s tales. A prince from ages past. It implied a lot for things that most Anthros wouldn’t accept.

Silence fell, and Pan became aware that he hadn’t reacted to Lier’s announcement, not with a casual whistle or a protest or an exclamation. He slued his eyes towards Lider’s ghost face.

Expressionless. Maybe. The eyes seemed sharper, more critical than Pan remembered from previous encounters. Lider as fully human would make as unnerving an impression as he did as a Cubus.

Another role model for me.

Lider said, “Maybe someone mentioned the medieval association to you?”

“No—at least—I never heard about a saint. Raine and Ruella thought I was something—anachronistic. Not their word. Unnatural.”

Lider’s brows drew together. “You never mentioned they criticized you.”

“Thought I should keep it to myself.”

Lider muttered, “You and Will think alike.”

“How long has Will thought I had a medieval connection?”

“Too long without telling anyone. Cubi have rules, some acknowledged, some not. How much they tell, how much they admit, how much they remember is a toss-up.”

“Allec says you’ve been around over two-hundred years.”

“I have. Unlike a human, I can access a specific memory intact. No confabulation. Like a human, I don’t think of the past until circumstances raise that a memory to the surface. And, like a human, what I remember doesn’t guarantee factual accuracy. My memories, like everyone’s memories, merely capture what happened at a particular time and place. The same is true for Will.”

“So you think he was right not to mention what he noticed about me. Until now.”

“Honestly? No, Panfilo, I don’t. I think Cubi keep too many secrets. They need to decide whether or not they are part of Earth’s sentient community, to stop straddling the fence. But it’s difficult to corral beings who can hide from detection.”

Rhys said, “Francesca is good at the corralling bit.”

He settled on the bench beside Lider, hands in pockets. He was wearing his priestly garb, which Pan thought made him look less like a religious leader and more like a pirate from the old films Allec liked to watch.

Lider laughed. “Yeah. But only because Will wants her good opinion.” 

Pan said, “Does he think I’m a clone of that saint? Or a descendent?”

“He doesn’t know. Nobody does. Junad made claims. Rhys and I will track down the source of those claims. But there’s no signpost here. We don’t know where we might end up.”

“I could talk to Will through Francesca. When we reach Earth.”

“Your safety—” Rhys said.

“Kaiden will go with me.”

Kaiden turned from the observation deck’s long window and said, “Yup.”

Pan added, “And I’ll wear a disguise.”

A sweatshirt with a hoodie. He could wrap his tail around his waist. Don sunglasses.

Lider muttered, “More costumes. Was making Todd an anathema to the captain and crew revenge for you? Or for Allec?”

“Todd has hurt a lot of people.”

Lider huffed, but Rhys said, “Perhaps next time, you should warn Kaiden not to look so jaunty when you outmaneuver an enemy.”

Yes, next time, we will have to dispose of our enemies more subtly.

Wolf Boy, Chapter 11, Part I

Allec wanted to institute ancient dueling practices and challenge Todd to single combat

“He won’t be allowed back on Mars,” Quin said. “For Todd, that’s plenty punishment.”

“He’ll ping-pong between new victims: two churches, two statelets, two Moon companies.”

“The last could put him in greater hot water. But maybe he’ll behave better if he isn’t faced with a provocative game of charades three months into a nine-month voyage.”

Allec was too busy fuming to hear Quin’s implicit rebuke. “Todd never behaved well on Mars. He looks for ways to get offended.”

“As opposed to having those ways shoved in his face,” Quin said and gave Pan a steady frown.

So Quin guessed that Pan and Kaiden had deliberately baited Todd. For all his outspokenness, Allec was far more innocent than his husband. Pan wondered if that innocence was the result of Allec’s short life. As Trading Master, Quin had greater experience handling people with agendas.

Allec’s preferred approach to political bullshit was to snipe. Quin took a longer view.

Political know-how 101: Flexibility is the goal. All approaches have their gains.

Quin gave Pan one more glare, then shrugged.

He said, “I’m more concerned with Todd’s friends showing up on the Earth Space Station.”

“They won’t be the only group,” Allec said.

“The captain is discussing possible disembarkation scenarios with Rhys.”

“Earth Station shuttles don’t fly directly to Reforested Greenland,” Allec said and turned to Pan, who sat on the cabin’s couch. “Are you planning to head there immediately?” 

“I don’t want to go without you,” Pan said.

He didn’t want to arrive at Queen Artia’s court without his—

Entourage?

—family and Kaiden, his—

Knight?

—friend. And he wanted to wait for Rhys and Lider to complete their investigation. He wanted to have answers, to approach the queen—

From a position of strength?

—without looking like an idiot.

“Of course, we’ll go with you,” Allec said. 

Quin frowned, arms folded, hooded eyes on the cabin floor. Pan could guess why. Lider’s first life extension took place on the HG Wells during his voyage to Mars. He was in a coma for several months.

The latest procedure would hopefully extend Allec’s life at least another ten years. Researchers and doctors speculated Allec would be under for about a week.  

Quin wanted to remove Allec to the facility as soon as the ship docked. The procedure was being funded by a pro-clone society run by an acquaintance of Allec’s, a loud reformer type who had supported Allec undergoing the first procedure. (Reformers like Todd thought Allec should have been “allowed to die naturally”). But loud opinions didn’t equal good science. Dr. Tomas was in contact with the society. Quin still wanted to check it out.

“We can wait. Return to Mars on the Lovecraft,” Allec said when Quin mentioned the time frame.

Digory

“Digory wants to return on the HG Wells.”

Now that the Space Program ran two ships, each spent more time at each station for repairs and to allow travelers to return within the month rather than wait for the next ship. Digory wanted to get home, to die on Mars and be buried there.

Allec grunted acknowledgment. Digory was his mentor, one of the first Mars’s citizens to fully accept him. He met Digory on the same voyage he met Quin. Pan become Allec’s ward four years later. Pan figured Digory came first.

“There’s never enough time,” he heard Allec say ruefully to Quin as Pan left the cabin.

Kaiden was waiting, back against the corridor wall, ankles crossed. He straightened when he saw Pan and cocked his head.

He said, “You hear about Todd being banned from space travel?”

“Yeah.”

“Bet Allec is thrilled. You know Todd assaulted him that first voyage.”

Pan had heard the stories. “Bet Allec said something to piss him off.”

Like father-figure, like son.  

Kaiden said, “Where are we going?” as Pan loped to the right.

“To find Rhys. Any ideas where he might be?”

“Lider is collecting complaints.”

All passengers accepted jobs during the nine-month voyage. Lider was assigned to talk to crew and colonists about cabin conditions, laundry malfunctions, toiletry needs. He could do it alone, so long as he kept to general areas, such as the mess hall and the observation deck. Wherever Lider was, Rhys eventually showed up. Pan chose the observation deck.