I followed Zayda through the twists of the maze the man had built.

He didn’t have the stink of fear about him. Anticipation, yes, but nothing to the point I worried about an ambush.

Still, I stayed close to Zayda, and kept my ears open.

With a final series of twists, the man stepped out into a large room. Zayda gasped as she stepped into the light and I hurried forward.

The entire room with set up as one massive comm station. Zayda walked from one screen to the next, eyes flickering, mind calculating.

“How far can you reach from here,” she asked, wonderingly.

“Far enough,” the man said.

She stood over another block of electronics. “And how much can you scramble from here?”

The man grinned broadly. “Enough.”

“I think I know why she sent us.” She smiled sweetly. “Mack, would you deliver a present to our new friend?”

I handed it over and the man's eyes fixed on the piece. “Well…” he focused on the comm station, our presence already forgotten.

“Wait.” Zayda’s command cut across the room. “I want to trade for another favor.”

“This really isn’t the time. You know what this means.”

“No, and, to be honest, I don’t really care. But you don't run comms like this without wanting information. I know something you don't. Something useful.”

He sat down, smirking. “And what do you think that is?”

“Tried to run up to Minor lately?” Zayda’s voice was light, but I didn't need to hear the tension in it to know how much she was worried about the explosive situation we’d left behind.

“Not a lot of point.” The man shrugged. “Folks go up, they don't come down. The system doesn't send much out, and prisoners don't have access to the comms.”

“What if I told you they might not be prisoners anymore and they most certainly do have access?”

Zayda's broad smile matched Mulligan's own as he absorbed the information. “Unless you don't think you can make the connection.”

“Don't even try that bullshit.” He waved towards another chair. “Let's see if you're telling the truth.”

I stood behind Zayda as she sat in the chair, watching his hands fly over the panel.

He shot over a confused look.

“Why would they be calling for her?” he muttered and shook his head. He shot a look our way. “Either of you go by Zayda?”

A smile bloomed on her face. “They're fine. Is there any other message?” She hurried over to his panel.

“Sort of.” He brought up a screen of gibberish, then passed his hand over the panel again until it resolved into repeating text. Zayda call home. Zayda call home.

“It's pretty clever algorithm actually. Wouldn’t mind meeting whoever set it up.”

“Get me a commline up there, and I'll introduce you. I suspect she's a lady after your own heart.”

He didn’t think for long. “I’ll take a trade on that favor. You’re on.” The man worked for a few more minutes until finally Jado’s tech’s face appeared.

“Oh, hey!” The bored look was entirely gone now. “You've missed some excitement. Hang on and I’ll patch you through to Ardelle. She's been worried sick.”

“That makes two of us,” Zayda said. She glanced over at Mulligan, who stared at the tech in fascination.

“Actually, can you split me off onto another channel for Ardelle and keep talking to this guy here? He did us a solid favor, might have some stuff for you guys to talk about.”

“Why do they keep asking if I can do things,” the tech muttered, and suddenly the screen split. Her face on one side, a view of Ardelle and Jado’s room behind the Down Low filling the other. From the far corner, Ardelle hurried up.

From his commstation the man separated the two images, sending Ardelle's channel over to where Zayda and I waited, dragging the tech’s transmission to another corner.

“We can let them talk shop for a while, I suspect.”

Zayda got a good look at Ardelle and reached towards the screen.

“Oh, Void,” she breathed. “What happened?

A purple bruise spread over the side of Ardelle's face.

“It could've been worse,” she said darkly. “I wasn’t the one who could have ended up smothered to death in a box underneath some rich person’s dinner. Give me someone I can fight back against, any day.”

She shouted over her shoulder. “Babe, they're okay!”

Jado came into the field. A long cut ran down his left cheekbone, but otherwise he looked unscathed.

I met his eyes through the transmission, flicked down to Ardelle's face and raised my eyebrows.

Jado nodded with a tight smirk, eyes flat and cold.

No need to talk about it. I could be pretty damn sure that whoever had touched Ardelle was even now floating between Minor and the station. In one piece, if the poor bastard had been lucky.

“Everything safe up there, everything solid?”

Ardelle laughed. “As much as it's going to be for a while. Look!” She showed both of her forearms, free of the cuff. “I was so used to wearing it, and now...it’s strange, but nice.”

“We have access to the parts of the station we need by these.” Jado held up a small rectangle and I recognized the control chip from the cuff, cut out from the original housing. He scratched his neck. “Does mean I occasionally forget it.”

Ardelle poked him in the side and wrinkled her nose. “All the time,” she mouthed.

“But it's a hell of a lot better than having it on all the time. Especially since this version doesn’t deal out shocks. Well, not to us.” He smiled, and I wondered who was wearing all those extra cuffs now.

“Any trouble with the rest of the population?”

“A couple of the other gangs weren't thrilled about the new order of the world, but they’re getting a quick lesson in how to get along with others.”

“What about the Hunters?” Zayda asked.

“The what?” Ardelle looked confused.

“The ghosts.” I clarified. “That’s what they’re really called. And they’re a lot worse than you realized.”

Jado nodded grimly. “We've held off any attempts to board. One shuttle came up, we got the poor idiot off fast enough, then sent it back empty.”

“Don’t unload anymore shuttles.” I hated to say it, I sounded like a monster.

Zayda turned up to me, shock in her eyes, and then she paled, realizing the truth.

“You can't know who's on board,” she whispered. “You’ll have to assume each shuttle is a trap, at least for now.”

“It's a shitty calculation, but you’re balancing letting one, maybe two people suffocate against the risk of a shuttle loaded with Hunters on board.” I stared at Jado, willing him to understand the severity of this. “If they come to take Minor back, and they get any foothold at all, you won't make it.”

Ardelle bit her lip, then her eyes hardened. “We can do that. We fought too hard over the last three days to stake our claim. Getting soft isn't an option.”

Someone shouted off screen and Jado slumped, rubbing his face with his hands. “Gotta go do stuff. Being in charge is a pain in the ass.”

With a wave and a promise to signal again soon, Zayda cut the connection and turned to Mulligan.

“Even deal?”

“Even.” He gave a lopsided grin. “Might even owe you.”

Zayda headed for the door. “We’re headed back up. Have anything you want us to tell Granny when we get there?”

“Don’t worry,” he patted the console. “I’ll get the message through on my own. Just let her know to expect to hear from me soon.”

We climbed the endless stairs back up from the Under, the silence giving me far too much time to think.

If Zayda was right, I just needed to wait a little longer. The memories would return, and I’d know who I was. What was going on. And who I needed to destroy.

I could wait it out on Minor, giving a hand in Jado and Ardelle’s war.

But… I looked at Zayda, ascending before me, and my gut decided for my brain.

She might kill me for saying it, but I couldn’t leave her alone down here. She still didn’t know who had betrayed her, or if it had just been lousy luck that got her sent up to the prison satellite.

As soon as her package arrived, she’d head back to the Agency, back to safety.

Besides, there was something about the messages Granny was sending across the station that told me things would be getting pretty interesting down here soon enough.

When we emerged into the bazaar, she bent, rubbing the backs of her calves. “I should've gotten another pair of shoes.”

Probably the sandals she'd picked out to go with the blue dress Gozer had made for her weren't the most practical for tromping up and down maintenance shafts, even if they were kinda pretty.

“We can take care of that easily enough,” and I swung her up into my arms.

She stiffened against me. “Mack, put me down.” Her voice was so soft I didn’t quite believe the words. “Please, put me down.”

I set her down gently, the tension in her shoulders cutting away the closeness between us.

“Zayda, what's going on?”

She shook her head, headed back into the bazaar. “Nothing. Nothing's going on at all. I can walk on my own.”

I followed, eyes narrowed. I thought we were done with the lies between us, but apparently not.

Seven rows in, a voice called across the hubbub and confusion of the market.

“Missy. Missy, over here!”

Searching across the crowd, I spotted the waving arms of the man we had bought Zayda’s sandals from.

“Maybe he'll give you a good deal on a second pair,” I tried, but the joke fell flat even to my ears.

We approached his booth to the accompaniment of his beckoning hands. “So glad I found you. Someone's been looking for you today.”

I tensed, ready for a fight. That didn't sound good.

“Who?” was Zayda's only response.

“How many people are looking for you?” His brows beetled in confusion, then he shrugged. “The parts man, the scrap guy. He's been gone but heard that you'd been around. Seemed like he wanted to find you soon.”

Zayda's face cleared. “Klayson? He's back?”

“Just finished with that job, returned this morning.”

Zayda started to step away from the booth, then stilled, turned back. “How did you know he was looking for me?”

The man grinned, then tapped the small piece of red fabric dangling from the cuff of his sleeve. “We all keep an ear out for each other, don't we? Favors are worth more than credit.”

Zayda's nodded. “I’ll owe you one, then. Thanks.”

We hurried through the bazaar until we stood in front of the covered booth where we'd first met Granny.

I rubbed the side of my head. It felt like it had been weeks ago, not just days.

“Klayson?” Zayda's voice rang out. “Are you there?”

“Hey, hey,” a large, dark-skinned man came out from the back of the booth. “There's the girl.” He leaned over, patted her on the shoulder. “I heard you disappeared, got worried.” His eyes narrowed and he grinned. “Seemed too smart to be gone forever. Glad I was right.”

“I'm glad you were right, too.”

He turned his gaze on me. “Looks like you picked up a new friend.”

“Yeah, I did. A good friend.”

She smiled, but her eyes were sad. When we got back to Granny's, we were having this out.

“She's a good catch, brother. You keep an eye on her.”

“I plan to.”

“Klayson,” Zayda almost bounced in her impatience.

“I know, I know. I've got it back here. Sorry about that, just glad to see you.” He went to the back, rustled around and came forward again with a small black fabric bundle in his hands.

“You were gone, figured you'd be back, but, well, you know how it is. Good job comes along can't turn it down for a maybe.”

“I know.” Zayda took the bundle, unwrapped it to reveal the chip inside, and turned it over. I assumed she found the marks she searched for because, with a satisfied nod, she wrapped it back up.

Klayson watched the process with approval. “Didn't want to leave it with anybody, figured it was as safe with me out in the Black as anywhere else.”

“Thanks again. I hope it wasn't any trouble.”

“None for me. And, at the end of the day, I brought in a good haul of interesting pieces, buyers already for half of it. Maybe your little package brought me luck.”

She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thanks again, but now we've got to go.”

Her shoulders slumped as we headed away from the booth. “I can’t believe it’s over.” She spun, eyes large. “I’ve got to tell Stanton right away.”

Unreasoning jealousy stabbed me at the name of the man she’d slipped away in the night to contact.

I knew he was her boss, her friend, but it would take more than just knowing that before I’d be happy to hear about him.

“Sure.” But I was eager to get a look at the guy. “Let’s find a comm booth.”

I couldn’t make out much through the crappy connection, so I watched Zayda instead, careful to stay out of the screen’s field of vision, and listened in.

The wary, smart operative disappeared when she talked to him, her eagerness to please the man who had saved her from a childhood on the streets shining through.

I didn’t like it, it made me nervous. But I couldn’t tell if my reaction was logical, or just because I’d decided to hate the guy.

“I’ll come in tomorrow.” Zayda’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts. “Yes, I’m sure I don’t want to take the earlier run.”

Connection broken, she turned away from the comm booth.

“Everything alright?” That sounded light, disinterested, didn’t it?

“Yes.” She pushed her hair out of her eyes. “Stanton is just a worry wart. Thinks I should head back right away.”

I hated to admit he might be right. But she took my hand and tugged me back to the outer ring of the market. “We need to finish what we started.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” I failed to keep the growl from my throat.

“What?” She blinked, confused. “I’m talking about our favor for Granny. What do you mean?”

Ah. I scrambled for a reply, anything that would explain my gruffness. “Sorry, just hungry.” I patted my stomach. “I’m a big guy, can’t help it.”

She glanced at the lights, judging the time, and then headed the opposite direction.

“We’ve got time for a quick bite, I’m sure. Then we’ll head back to Granny’s.”

And when we were back, I’d find out what she was keeping from me.