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Yei giggled.

Leo hung limply in his seat restraints, laughter bubbling in his throat. "We made it!"

Ti swung his headset up and sat no less limply, his face white and lined—jumps drained pilots. Leo felt as if he'd just been twisted inside out himself, squeaking, but the nausea passed quickly.

"Your mirror was in spec, Leo," Ti said faintly.

"Yes. I'd been afraid it might explode, during the stresses of the jump."

Ti eyed him indignantly. "That's not what you said. I thought you were the hot-shot testing engineer."

"Look, I'd never made one of those things before," Leo protested. "You never know. You only make the best possible guesses." He sat up, trying to gather his scattered wits. "We're here. We made it. But what's going on Outside, was there any damage to the Habitat—Silver, see what you can get on the com."

She too was pale. "My goodness," she blinked. "So that was a jump. Sort of like six hours of Dr. Yei's truth serum all squeezed into a second. Ugh. Are we going to be doing this a lot?"

"I certainly hope so," said Leo. He unstrapped himself and floated over to assist her.

Space around the wormhole was empty and serene—Leo's secret paranoid vision of jumping into waiting military fire was not to be, he noted gladly. But wait, a ship was approaching them—not a commercial vessel, something dangerous and official-looking. . . .

"It's some sort of police ship from Orient IV," Silver guessed. "Are we in trouble?"

"Undoubtedly," Dr. Minchenko's voice cut in as he floated into Nav and Com. "GalacTech will certainly not take this lying down. You will do us all a favor, Graf, if you let me do the talking just now." He elbowed both Silver and Leo aside, taking over the com. "The Minister of Health of Orient IV happens to be a professional colleague of mine. While his is not a position of great political power, it is a channel of communication to the highest levels of government. If I can get through to him we will be in a much better position than if we try to deal with some low level police sergeant, or worse, military officer." Minchenko's eyes glinted. "There is no love lost between GalacTech and Orient IV at the moment. Whatever GalacTech's charges, we can counter—tax fraud—oh, the possibilities. . . ."

"What do we do while you're talking?" asked Ti.

"Keep boosting," advised Minchenko.

"It's not over, is it?" Silver said quietly to Leo, as they floated out of Minchenko's way. "Somehow, I thought our troubles would be over if only we could get away from Mr. Van Atta."

Leo shook his head. A jubilant grin still kept crooking up the corner of his mouth. He took one of her upper hands. "Our troubles would have been over if Brucie-baby had scored a hit. Or if the vortex mirror had blown up in the middle of the jump, or if—don't be afraid of troubles, Silver. They're a sign of life. We'll deal with them together—tomorrow."

She breathed a long sigh, the tension draining from her face, her body, her arms. An answering smile at last lighted her eyes, making them bright like stars. She turned her face expectantly toward his.

He found himself grinning quite foolishly, for a man pushing forty. He tried to twitch his face into more dignified lines. There was a pause.

"Leo," said Silver in a tone of sudden insight, "are you shy?"

"Who, me?" said Leo.

The blue stars squeezed for a moment into quite predatory glitters. She kissed him. Leo, indignant at her accusation, kissed her back more thoroughly. Now it was her turn to grin foolishly. A lifetime with the quaddies, Leo reflected, could be all right. . . .

They turned their faces to the new sun.

Labyrinth

LABYRINTH

Miles contemplated the image of the globe glowing above the vid plate, crossed his arms, and stifled queasiness. The planet of Jackson's Whole, glittering, wealthy, corrupt . . . Jacksonians claimed their corruption was entirely imported—if the galaxy were willing to pay for virtue what it paid for vice, the place would be a pilgrimage shrine. In Miles's view this