"Stop moving," Zauna said.

"I'm trying. Egh!" Christof flinched away.

"I'm not even stitching yet. You are a child." Zauna pulled Christof until his head was in her lap. Her grip on him was both stern yet mothering. It was a strange feeling for a five-hundred-year-old man.

Her needle broke skin on his scalp. He winced.

Her grip tightened. "Lucky man. It is only a graze. You are bleeding bad, but only blood."

"Right..."

"When are these people going to call you?"

"Five minutes. Five days. No telling."

It wasn't the answer Zauna wanted to hear. On the flying citadel miles away, people had her daughter. From the moment that shuttle emergency landed on the beach, it was all Christof could do to convince her not to turn herself in. He'd said that Naema was better off if they didn't have her mother to control her. Zauna hated the implication of that, and he didn't blame her.

An hour later found them here, in the bathroom of a diner, using stolen medical supplies from a drugstore to patch up Christof's wounds. A tortoise sat a few feet ahead of them watching their every move. Scrawled on her shell was the phone number to a prepaid assembler-produced phone Christof had procured.

His entire plan hinged on the assumption that Winnie checked back on Helena from time to time. If she didn't, or Victoria discouraged it, then he didn't know what to do next. The exemplars were already hunting them. They had no money and no weapons. Zauna wore the same clothes she had when she was captured, now several days overdue for a wash. Christof was obviously military, and the blood caking his hair and staining his white undershirt must be attracting attention. They'd gotten strange looks just coming into the restaurant. As soon as the news posted a bulletin on them, their problems would compound.

This is the kind of situation intrigue and politics gets you into.

The phone rang from its perch on the sink. Christof jerked. Pain seared his scalp.

"Stay still." Zauna said

"I need to get that."

"I finish first, then you get."

"That phone call is our lifeline."

"And they see us, yes? They will wait ten seconds."

She was right that whoever it was could see them, whether Winnie or Victoria, but Zauna didn't know what kind of woman Victoria was. Christof could imagine her hanging up the phone after two rings just because he made her wait. After all these years, he actually wasn't sure how she would treat him. He maintained an air of urgency right up until Zauma took her hands off his head. The caller was watching after all.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Hello, Christof."

He'd never heard that voice, but he knew that tone. "Victoria."

"What do you want?" she asked.

"Asylum."

"Asylum..."

"Sakhr is dead. Alexander is in control."

"I know."

"Do you know who I have with me?"

"Yes."

"I want to make a deal."

"Yes?"

"I bring your daughter and this woman to you, and you don't put me back in an animal, or prison, or anything like that."

"I am not your chip!" said Zauna. "Was this your plan?"

"I see," Victoria paused, "and you would trust me just like that."

"Are you saying I shouldn't?"

"No, but you don't have a choice, do you? The hounds are coming. You're a smart-enough fox to know they will corner you eventually, thus you are already cornered."

Zauna was still snapping at him. "Answer me. What do you want me for?"

Christof put the phone down a moment. "You want to go to her. Trust me."

"I want to find Josephine. I said this a thousand times. She'll get my daughter."

"This woman is your best chance of ever seeing your daughter again, so just hold on," he said to her. To the phone, "Do we have a deal?"

"Hmm..." said Victoria

"Does your daughter mean that little to you?"

"I'm not saying I don't want my daughter, or that woman. I'm just wondering why I should accept your offer at all. I could land this ship and take them from you, and neither you nor Alex could do a thing to stop me. He might shield his soldiers soon, but you're lost and drowning. Why should I pull you up at all?" She mused upon it.

"You kept me as a pet for nearly two decades, and I wasn't even there that night. You know damn well I tried to talk Sakhr out of it."

"Yes. You voted no to murdering a child, but the vote passed anyway. Oh well. You did your best."

"I could have done more. I know. I'm not innocent of what happened. But seventeen years, Victoria. Are you really not satisfied?"

"Calm down, Christof. I will give you asylum. Bring those two to me and you are forgiven."

He gritted his teeth. It was always a goddamn power play with her. She was forgiving him. "Fine," he said. "Where do we go from here?"

No response. It sounded as though the phone was shuffling around on their end.

"Hello?" he asked.

"Hi."

"Who is this?"

"It's Winnie. I'm going to help you, but first can you put the woman on? Josephine wants to talk to her."