But he knew the truth. Crankenshaft’s motives had nothing to do with compassion. The only reason Jato had a modicum more freedom now was because it made Crankenshaft’s life easier.

Jato didn’t want to see that wary look appear on this woman’s face, the one spacers always wore when they learned his story. Not yet. He wanted to have these few minutes without the weight of his conviction pressing on them.

So instead of telling her, he pointed at his feet and made a joke. "This is where I live. These are my coordinates."

"Your what?"

So much for scintillating wit, he thought. "Coordinates. This staircase is the plot of a non-linear step function."

She laughed, like the sweet ringing of a bell. "Why would anyone go to all this work just to make a big plot?"

"It’s art." He wished she would laugh again. It was a glorious sound.

"This is some art," she said. "But you haven’t told me why your people won’t let you leave."

His people? She thought he was a Dreamer? It wasn’t only that he bore no resemblance to them. Dreamers were gifted at both art and mathematics, neither of which he had talent for. Yet this beautiful woman thought he was both. He grinned. "They like me. They don’t want me to go."

She stared at him, her mouth opening.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

She closed her mouth. "What?"

"You’re just staring at me."

"I-your smile-" She flushed. "My apologies. I’m afraid I’m rather tired." She gave him a formal nod. "My pleasure at your company." Then she turned and headed down the stairs.

He almost went after her, stunned by her abrupt leave-taking. But he managed to keep from making a fool of himself. Instead, he stood in the shadows and watched her descend the SquareCase.