"Which drone, Jernau?" the house said. "Chamlis?"

He stared at the terminal. "No! That little scumbag from Contact; Loash Armasco-Iap Wu-Handrahen Xato Koum, that's who! The one that was just here!"

"Just here?" the house said, in its Puzzled voice.

Gurgeh sagged. He sat down. "You didn't see or hear anything just now?"

"Nothing but silence for the last eleven minutes, Gurgeh, since you told me to hold all calls. There have been two of those since, but—"

"Never mind," Gurgeh sighed. "Get me Hub."

"Hub here; Makil Stra-bey Mind subsection. Jernau Gurgeh; what can we do for you?"

Gurgeh was still looking at the sky overhead, partly because that was where the Contact drone had gone (the thin vapour-trail was starting to expand and drift), and partly because people tended to look in the direction of the Hub when they were talking to it.

He noticed the extra star just before it started to move. The light-point was near the trailing end of the little drone's farside-lit contrail. He frowned. Almost immediately, it moved; only moderately fast at first, then too quickly for the eye to anticipate.

It disappeared. He was silent for a moment, then said, "Hub, has a Contact ship just left here?"

"Doing so even as we speak, Gurgeh. The (Demilitarised) Rapid Offensive Unit—"

-Zealot," Gurgeh said.

"Ho-ho! It was you, was it? We thought it was going to take months to work that one out. You've just seen a Private visit, game-player Gurgeh; Contact business; not for us to know. Wow, were we inquisitive though. Very glamorous, Jernau, if we may say so. That ship crash-stopped from at least forty kilolights and swerved twenty years… just for a five-minute chat with you, it would seem. That is serious energy usage… especially as it's accelerating away just as fast. Look at that kid go… oh, sorry; you can't. Well, take it from us; we're impressed. Care to tell a humble Hub Mind subsection what it was all about?"