"I thought you were wary of Contact?"

"I am, generally, but I know a few of the Minds; I still have some connections… I'd trust them to help, I think."

"I don't know," Yay said. "We're all taking this awful seriously; he'll come out of it. He's got friends. Nothing too terrible's going to happen to him as long as his pals are around."

"Hmm," the drone said. The car stopped at one of the elevator tubes serving the village where Charnlis Amalk-ney lived. "Will we see you in Tronze?" the drone asked.

"No, I've a site conference that evening," Yay said. "And then there's a young fellow I saw at the shoot the other day… I've arranged to bump into him that night." She grinned.

"I see," Chamlis said. "Lapsing into predatory mode, eh? Well, enjoy your bumping."

"I'll try," Yay laughed. She and the drone bade each other goodnight, then Charnlis went through the car's lock — its ancient, minutely battered casing suddenly bright in the blast of sunlight from underneath — and went straight up the elevator tube, without waiting for a lift. Yay smiled and shook her head at such geriatric precocity, as the car pulled away again.

Ren slept on, half covered by a sheet. Her black hair spilled across the top of the bed. Gurgeh sat at his occasional desk near the balcony windows, looking out at the night. The rain had passed, the clouds thinned and separated, and now the light of the stars and the four Plates on the far, balancing side of the Chiark Orbital — three million kilometres away and with their inner faces in daylight — cast a silvery sheen on the passing clouds and made the dark fjord waters glitter.