“I think you’re crazy, Nanja,” said Dotte, trudging with her up the pedestrian ramp. “I’d have taken him up on that drink in a heartbeat. Or any of the rest of the menu, though I supposed I’d have to draw the line at the pony. It wouldn’t fit in my flat.”

“I thought you were married.”

“Yes, but I’m not blind.”

“Dotte, customers try to pick me up at least twice a week.”

“But they aren’t usually that incredibly cute. Or taller than you.”

“What’s that have to do with anything?” said Tej, irritated. “My mother was a head taller than my father, and they did fine.” She clamped her jaw shut. Not so fine now.

She parted company with Dotte at the platform, but did board a bubble car. She rode to a random destination about ten minutes away, then disembarked and took another car back to a different stop on the other side of her neighborhood, just in case the man was still lingering out there, stalker-like, at the first one. She strode off briskly.

Almost home, she started to relax, until she look up and spotted Vorpatril lounging on the steps to her building entrance.

She slowed her steps to a dawdle, pretending not to have noticed him yet, raised her wristcom to her lips, and spoke a keyword. Rish’s voice answered at once.

“Tej? You’re late. I was getting worried.”

“I’m fine, I’m right outside, but I’m being followed.”

The voice went sharp. “Can you go roundabout and shake him off?”

“Already tried that. He got ahead of me somehow.”

“Oh. Not good.”

“Especially as I never gave him my address.”

A brief silence. “Very not good. Can you stall him a minute, then get him to follow you into the foyer?”

“Probably.”

“I’ll take care of him there. Don’t panic, sweetling.”

“I’m not.” She left the channel open on send-only, so that Rish could follow the play. She took her time closing the last few dozen meters, and came to a wary halt at the bottom of her steps.