McIntyre was a large and looming presence at Jennifer's back as she walked up and down the catwalk, surveying the ragged collection of people lined up for her perusal. At least some of McIntyre's warnings were true; as she looked along the line of faces it was very clear that William Savage had preferred to work with young men. Perhaps he found them easier to mould into an image. Certainly, they'd all seem to bond most intensely to the idea of himself he'd put out.

As Jennifer Li had never met Mr Savage she had no opinions on whether or not it was warranted. As far as she knew he'd avoided serious drama on his ships in the two decades between the big war and this sabotage. What she worried about was whether any of them would be willing to work for her. Loyalty to one man was all fine and well when he was fine and well, but what she wanted was people who were truly loyal to the space force.

Definitely not the short blond man, thin and scrappy looking, with hair as thin and pale as his skin and eyes that burned with a rage that was unprofessional to display. 'Johnson', apparently. McIntyre had name-tagged them all to save time.

Among a series of downcast pale white boys with brown hair, one stood out the most for some reason, likely because he looked to be the only one taller than 5'8". "Richards, is it?"

He looked up from his feet and nodded.

"You look useful. Would you like to relieve the man I have guarding the late ambassador's wife?"

His eyes became big and he blinked a lot, and then his posture improved as if someone had pulled a weight away from his upper back. "Are you sure, sir?"

Jennifer looked at McIntyre, who didn't look in the least sure about the idea.

"In the unlikely event this one turns out to be the killer I'll take personal responsibility, Vice-Marshal."

McIntyre sighed and nodded her assent. "Section 7 will be pleased to hear it's all on you now."

Jennifer laughed. The look on Richards's face has gone from astonishment to clear excitement. Already Jennifer felt good about her choice.

She waved him off to follow a member of McIntyre's staff to the relevant floor, and slowly strolled back up the line until she found her target. There was something satisfying about the faint metal ring of her measured footsteps as she walked up the narrow walkway.

Tall, sharp and blankly staring ahead, Commander Solaris had the kind of facial control and self-possession that Jennifer couldn't help but admire. She'd seen it earlier in their encounter in the hallway from the way Solaris moved, like somebody comfortable with what their body could do, absolutely sure it would not fail them in a moment of need. It was a quality at odds with the way people talked about her in the officer's lounge, but Jennifer was willing to dismiss the people at the bar who'd called Solaris 'nervous, manipulative, snide' as having agendas incompatible with a clear-eyed view of the situation.

Jennifer smiled up at Solaris, who continued to stare at a point in the wall well above Jennifer's height.

"We meet again, Commander Solaris." Still no reaction. Not that Jennifer had told McIntyre about their conversation in the hallway Solaris shouldn't have been in – a minor rebellion against discipline, to be sure, but Jennifer wasn't sure it was something worth reporting to a higher up. There was power in being able to do that, but it was easy to abuse, and abuses of power took the fun out of the whole game.

"Indeed."

"I've heard you play a mean game of Go. We should play against each other some time."

"Whether or not my play style is mean, I am quite sure it will be unsatisfactory for you."

One of the men down the line snickered, but Jennifer was too amused to shush him.

"Oh, I don't know about that. I've always had a talent for surrounding a person's territory when they're least expecting it."

No reaction. Would it really be so hard to get her to play along?

Jennifer sighed and moved on. "Dr Pill, could I see you in private?"

After that, McIntyre took charge of dismissing everyone else back to what they'd been doing before. Jennifer could see, out of the corner of her eye, Commander Solaris's urgent steps.

Of course, private wasn't truly private, because McIntyre followed her and Dr Pill into the room he indicated. Jennifer sat down on an old beige and brown chair, and watched as Pill sighed and sat on an ageing brown leather couch. The furniture in the military-only portions of the station wasn't nearly as nice and comfortable as the civilian areas, though it wasn't like the UAP's forces didn't make use of both sides of the station. And for all that the furniture was mismatched and the walls and floors restricted to off-white and dark neutrals, cool-toned under the harsh lights, it felt considerably more functional than the up-to-the-minute decoration of the civilian areas, with their metallics and pastels already in danger of going out of fashion.

"How is your father?" Dr Pill asked.

"Oh, he's settling in well to the medical board. You'll likely see him before I do."

"I will, at that." Dr Pill slumped in on himself, then pulled himself upright again immediately. "I suppose you'll want to know my thoughts on all the boys."

"If you could. I'm not in a position to make too many decisions about staff assignments," Jennifer said, aware of McIntyre watching on, "but I'd like to know what I'm likely to get."

"What I don't get is how you met our Commander Solaris before," Pill said.

"Oh, you know," Jennifer said, and waved a hand in a vague motion, "you meet people in passing. A face like that is hard to forget. But what I want to know is how her way of things looks to you, someone with such a long period of familiarity with her work."

Pill leaned forward. "Shouldn't it be Captain Savage you ask about?"

"I'm sure you'll tell me about his effect on his crew in good time. But, please, satisfy my curiosity first."

*

The next morning a member of station staff that Solaris didn't recognise arrived at the door of the room she was stuck with and ordered her to go downstairs with them. In that instant she was sure that she'd taken the wrong liberties, that section 7 suspected her of the crimes and her career was over. She stood and followed. What would be the point in choosing not to? There was nowhere she could go.

She was led down several floors to the Vice-Marshal's office.

McIntyre swivelled her chair around to face the direction of the door and said, "Please sit, Mr Solaris."

Solaris complied.

"Not that any of us ever thought you were responsible, and investigation of you, specifically, was never more than a formality, but you've been officially cleared of suspicion of sabotage and are free to roam the station as you see fit."

Solaris endeavoured not to react. "I see. May I ask what officially cleared me?"

"You may ask," McIntyre said. But rather than dragging things out by forcing Solaris to ask, she added, "Some security footage was recovered and you're at least six inches too tall, for a start. For another thing, a banned substance used for increasing strength beyond normal human levels was found in a broken syringe at the scene of one of the crimes, and anybody can see you don't need a drug enhancement to be perform great feats of strength."

"That is indeed comprehensive."

McIntyre, who Solaris was already accustomed to seeing scowl and sigh, smiled the slightest amount on one corner of her mouth.

"Of course, I can only tell you this in so much detail because our friend over there, Agent 42A, cleared the release of information."

Solaris swung around to look at the door. The person she'd taken for a member of McIntyre's staff had shed the appearance of the space force uniform and was wearing the shifting sky uniform of UAP Public Security, at that point the dark blue of the night.

The agent spoke in the nondescript and unmemorable voice all members of public security were issued. "You can't be blamed for not knowing what we know. You weren't trained like us."

Then Solaris was distracted by McIntyre's voice, and the agent disappeared before their conversation was through.

*

Jennifer strode into the bar on level three, a world of pink and blue lights, uncomfortable seats and engineered stone bench tops.

There was faint music through the speakers drowned out by the rumble of people's conversations. A television set that lay against one wall displayed entertainment news without sound: a boy band in mismatched costumes accepted an award; stars of a long-running serial separated; her ex Abby smiling up at the film producer who wrapped his arm around her body, and that body perfectly framed by a blaring doll pink mini-dress, fitted expertly to show off her burgeoning pregnancy. The crowd of tables were full of people on the younger end of middle-aged, in their holiday finest. And at the bar, Dr Lachlan Pill looking down into a half-full glass, already looking drunk and maudlin.

"Doctor," she said, acknowledging him as she sat on the stool next to his.

He looked up from his drink and looked down again.

She ignored him a moment and asked the bartender for a cup of tea on McIntyre's tab. The last thing she needed was intoxication.

"How old would you say you are now, young Miss Li?" Pill finally said.

She looked over at him and laughed. He was still gazing at his drink, some foaming blue thing.

"I would say I'm 32, and all official documents about me would say the same."

"Why didn't you follow your father into medicine?"

She breathed in, leaned back and stretched out her shoulders, as the bartender placed her cup in front of her. Hot water with a teabag in a mug. Typical.

"He already has my brother and uncle for company. He doesn't need me. Anyway, I don't have the temperament for it. I'm a restless soul. Always be moving, upward and outward, throughout the stars."

"Not me," he said, and downed his remaining drink. "I've had enough new experiences. I'm nearly ready to rest."

He did look up, finally, so she didn't have to keep carrying on the conversation with the side of his head.

"Is that retirement on the horizon?"

"I've already been assigned to you until you can find someone better, by order of the Vice-Marshal. McIntyre, I mean, not your mother."

"I wouldn't have suspected otherwise."

"I've never understood why you went into the space force after the massacre on—"

"I'd rather talk about a member of your crew."

"In this era you'll have to deal with Nectarens regularly. Doesn't that bother you?"

She breathed out deep, already sick of that question. "Bad governance bothers me. Revolutions carried out by people who destroy infrastructure and cripple their own country bother me. Nectarens are just people, as varied and complicated as anyone else. There were humans party to that violence, too. You don't need to worry that what I witnessed will affect my ability to my job, not least because the UAP has forced me to have regular appointments with psychiatrists for the last 18 years to prove that I'm still sane."

"I wasn't questioning your competence."

She drank her vaguely tea-flavoured hot water and left the cup neatly piled on top of a blue bar napkin, marred only by the ugly script declaring the name of the station on the corner.

"I think I'll find out about your Commander Solaris the old fashioned way, by badgering her until she tells me what I want to know just to get me to stop. Enjoy your drink, Dr Pill."

*

As it was, she spotted Commander Solaris on the observation deck but Solaris walked straight past her, obviously pretending not to notice her, and then tried to persuade poor, trembling Lieutenant Sugimoto into letting her in to the wreck of the Moving Along Silently. She didn't have to watch for long because Solaris strode away before Jennifer felt forced to intervene.

He looked at Jennifer after Solaris had left and said, "I won't let you in either, sir."

"Good man."

*

Upstairs, over the crib board, Jennifer let Graham deal with some of her tangled thoughts instead.

"I trust section 7 to know what they're doing," she said.

"I don't."

"And who committed the crimes on the Moving Along Silently is of no business of mine. So if they've released Commander Solaris from suspicion, in spite of her being the only person on board who could possibly have physically overpowered famed Space Captain William Savage under normal circumstances, then that means something significant."

"You're trying to distract me from how bad you are at cribbage."

"I could still win from here." It wasn't particularly likely, but stranger things had happened in space.

"How do you know none of the rest of them were stronger than Savage?"

"Have you had a look at them? Most of them young men from territories that suffered food shortages and other deprivations after the war, none of them but Richards more than an inch or two taller than me. Some of them are barely above the minimum standards required to join the force." She cleared her throat. "Not that I've had official access to this information, you understand."

He snorted. "You barely met those standards, runt. Looks can be deceiving."

She glared at him, until he relented.

"Fine," he said. "They're all weaklings. But if we discount them, who's left? The ship's doctor is pushing 60 and not in great shape. Even with unnatural means how would he manage it? They've worked together for twenty years. There should be loyalty there. What about Free? She's strong."

"There should be loyalty there, too. McIntyre described her as devoted to Savage."

"Interesting choice of words. The only person with the natural ability is your new fixation and she doesn't have the motive. I've looked it up. Savage intervened when she pissed off someone powerful at the academy and took her into his crew as soon as she graduated."

Jennifer leaned back, looking over the board. "Nobody has an obvious motive to attack Savage. Solaris of no last name owes her career to him. Pill and Free have been loyal to him since the war. All his young men owe him their loyalty because he was the only ship captain who would take them in positions that let them explore the stars instead of merely the administration positions of planet-side installations. None in particular has more reason to distrust Nectarens than the others, when so many had similar unfortunate upbringings. And he has made them an efficient crew. So let's look at this a different way. What could have changed recently that one of them would be willing to attack a captain they were previously loyal to?"

He smirked and handed her a folder that had been half-hidden under his leg until that moment. "One step ahead of you. I always know what you're going to get obsessed with next. Notes on recent missions, liberated from McIntyre's filing system."

She pushed the game away and lay the folder flat on the carpet so they could both look at it. He was going to win, anyway. He always did.

There was only one thing that stood out. She tapped the page. "There, where they investigated the time-space anomaly. Several men reported visions and displayed aggression afterwards."

"That explains why the time cops have ruled that area out of bounds for the rest of us. You notice anything about the names, Jen?"

She was pretty sure her smile mirrored his. "The last victim, Kennedy, is among those affected by the anomaly. There's several possibilities and obviously this is wild speculation, but if we allow the possibility that there were two people required to reach the other victims, one on the scene and one in the security room to remove the evidence, then it's possible..."

"...that the other killer did in their accomplice to get rid of the evidence, yes. So then they'd attack a captain they were loyal to..."

"If they thought he'd learned too much."

"You better hope you're wrong, Jen."

"It's just speculation based on extremely limited evidence, Graham. For all I know it's someone from Public Security using advanced tech to hide their tracks and carry out political assassinations badly. Until our ship comes in and gives us a new mission, speculation's about all we can do."

She could just imagine how it would be, a big ship with her in charge, nothing to hold them back.

"Keep speculating," he said. "This is the most excited you've looked since Abby dumped you and the Dream of Adventure nearly exploded."

*

After the obligatory psychiatric re-assessment on Level 2, Solaris found herself going up in an elevator with Captain Li and several of the Nectarens. She tried to make sure she wasn't touching anything or anyone without looking like she was leaning away from all of them. Crowding like that was annoying.

"Would you be interested in a game of badminton, Mr Solaris?" Captain Li asked.

"Not in the least."

"Ah, that's a shame." And then. "I've always been intrigued by tales of psychometry. Such an interesting talent."

"It is more a burden than a gift, Captain Li."

"I can see how it would make some things difficult. However, we all do our best for the space force."

Between them, the Nectarens rustled as they rubbed against each other. Solaris tried not to look tense or rigid, no matter how impatient she was for the elevator to reach the correct level.

The lift chimed at 9 and she got out, ready to switch elevators.

Captain Li looked annoyingly friendly as she left, declaring, "The Nectarens wish you well."

*

Solaris stretched her arms and then removed her gloves when she came in the door, to allow the skin on her hands to breathe. She stretched each digit, breathed in deep, then turned. Tried not to startle.

The lights were still off in the room Solaris had been consigned to, but Lady Free sat in a chair near the corner nonetheless.

"William and I are leaving on the next shuttle to a planet-side hospital," Lady Free said.

All at once several thoughts settled heavily on Solaris: the discomfort of hearing an officer refer to their captain by his first name; the even more uncomfortable suspicion that Captain Savage and Lady Free had been conducting an affair, despite regulations forbidding it; the realisation that she'd been hoping, in spite of all realistic prospects, that Captain Savage would walk out of his bed on his own and resume his position at the head of their ship, and that now she was forced to follow another leader and learn how to work within the confines of somebody else's rules all over again.

"That is... wise. The facilities here are limited."

"I said good things about your work ethic to Captain Smith."

Solaris knew he was somewhere in the station – certainly many people had said as much – but she hadn't seen him once in the entire time she'd been there. Perhaps that was a good sign about his ability to avoid undue attention.

"Thank you. I appreciate what you've done for me."

Lady Free stood and offered a hand to shake. Was there some deeper significance behind the action? What did she intend? The formality of an echo of business communication etiquette on Illvos, or the intimacy of one hand clasping another? She wasn't sure she'd be allowed to refuse.

Solaris closed her eyes and put forward her hand for shaking. Lady Free grabbed her hand and Solaris fell forward into her recent memories.

Solaris kept her eyes closed until the memories had run through. Eleven years she spent hardly touching anyone, keeping her hands to herself to avoid the uncomfortable intimacy of other people's memories, and in the last week she'd been touched and touched and touched until she felt her edges were in danger of slowly unravelling. The well of new memories ran dry, and all Solaris could feel was the warmth and roughness of Lady Free's hand.

Lady Free's eyes were dark but that expression on her face was not the severe thing poor dead Kennedy used to talk about that left him terrified in the night. Lady Free was just a person, hoping to be seen and understood and liked like anybody else.

This humbling effect of her face in the dark was contrary to everything Solaris hoped for from a superior officer.

"What did you see?" Lady Free asked, her voice lacking its usual colour.

"I saw nothing," Solaris said, and dismissed from her head that image of her superior officers in a forbidden embrace. That her captain had left his rooms in an attempt to catch the killer for himself the night he was attacked was no surprise. "At least nothing I would tell anyone of. And nothing I witnessed this way is admissible in a military tribunal. Your secrets remain safe."

Lady Free nodded and walked past. The sound of the door closing behind her felt definitive.

Solaris removed her shoes and lay on the bed, arm over her eyes until its weight pressed her into sleep.

*

She woke up with the urge to check on Veronica Menken again and a vague unease with no source.

*

The bar was significantly more quiet at 1430 hours, station time. Most of the lunch crowd had already left, and the late lunchers must have been drawn to the food court in the shopping mall attached to level one. Easier to talk with the noise out of the way.

Jennifer and Graham sat around one of the round tables, facing Dr Pill, whose hands kept picking at cold potato chips.

"What is it about Commander Solaris's psychometry that interests you so much?" Pill asked. "I know you've asked around. I could put in a good word for you with McIntyre if you want to sway Solaris to your crew."

Jennifer tried not to slump into her chair. "Come on. We both know Captain Smith will want to take her on. She's hot property and he's about to depart on a mission with a small scientific mission. That's not what they're going to task me with and we both know it."

She glanced over at Captain Smith, seated alone at one of the other tables with nothing but a data pad to keep him company. He glanced at her, smiled as if amused, and looked back to his work.

"You'll need a lab manager, too," Pill said.

"I've already tapped Despotakis for that."

Dr Pill's unimpressed look could be intense when he wasn't drunk, even with the cold chips in front of him as proof of his distraction.

"Fine," she said. "Object memory. It's an interesting idea."

"You're that interested in psychics?"

"I'm not interested in mind readers. I don't want somebody trying to invade my mind and steal my secrets," she said.

Graham laughed. "Too right. You should have seen the way she reacted to the empath on Monumenta."

"She was a twit," Jennifer said, and immediately regretted it. But she rescued her posture from its slump and tried to start over. "I met a antiques dealer with level 2 psychometry once. She was interesting. She could tell you what the person who last owned an object had been feeling. This idea of feelings collecting on an object like some kind of psychic dirt that I can't see is something I confess to some mild amateur interest in. It's the same reason I read popular science. The universe is made of interesting parts."

"Solaris's ability goes far beyond that. As a level five she not only feels object memory, she can see it. If you touch an object and then she touches it, she will know that you touched it without being told. If she touches you, she can see your recent memories." Pill threw his napkin over the cold chips and leaned forward. "When I first worked with her, she could only see vivid images as far back as a week. Her ability has grown far beyond that. I'm not sure there is a limit to how far back she can see in the memories of a person she hasn't touched before anymore. If you don't want someone looking through your brain, then you would not enjoy this."

"I don't want to hold her hand, doctor. I want to have a conversation," Jennifer said.

"She doesn't like people poking into her life and past any more than you do," Pill said, wry.

"Then I won't ask. I won't ask about her life on Westroia. I can read books if I want to know about that planet."

Graham interrupted again. "She's already read so many. Jen was such a... Sorry, Space Captain Li was a nerd when we met. It's my greatest duty to distract her from her books by throwing women and wine at her until she has no time to read."

Dr Pill didn't look impressed by Graham's interruption. "Nobody was worried that you'd ask for an official history of the planet."

"Well, in that case," Jennifer said, "you don't need to worry that I'll ask why her religious title isn't on her official records in spite of the photo documenting that she has the ceremonial tattoos of one of the Westroian mystery faiths, and I won't ask why her full name and the names of her family aren't on her official file, or why she has no next of kin to contact in the event of an emergency, or... any of it. You need not worry I'll bother her at all. She has no interest in conversing with me whatsoever."

"You also have redactions in your file."

"I'm aware, Dr Pill, and I have to talk about them every 18 months in order to continue on in the space force. But as you've finished your food and there's nowhere interesting for this conversation to, I'd say it's time we wrap it up and all repair to our rooms."

She stood and hoped it looked commanding.

"Very well," Dr Pill said, and stood to follow, with Graham following suit a second later.