Drexler Hammin woke to a lovely morning. The sun was shining, his breakfast was filling and the Washburne land would be his by supper. He hadn't heard anything from Mrs. Washburne yet, but his reports came back that she hadn't returned from her little voyage off-world yet. It had been well over a week, now, and it didn't look as though she'd be coming back soon.

And the man he'd paid to take the brat to Sihnon was not known to play games. As soon as whatever broken down ship Zoë had paid to carry her to her daughter came within sight of the hired man, well... All anyone would ever find of them would be rubbish floating in zero-gravity. He smiled to himself.

The vineyard would then be put on the auction block where he could snatch it for a song.

He'd have to keep the name, of course, at least for a short while. Just until people grew accustomed to the new management. And then he could call the Soaring Souls Vineyard anything he wanted. Hell, in a few years, maybe he'd even be able to hire a fresh young Companion to visit the place.

That thought made him chuckle as he made his way to the stables. He wanted a fine stallion on which he could ride over to his new piece of property.

"Magistrate Drexler Hammin?" a clear voice rang out. He turned to see five men in uniform walk towards him.

"Yes," he answered. "And who might you be?"

"You are under arrest, sir, for indecent exposure, conspiracy to commit fraud, kidnapping, attempt to--"

"This is preposterous!" Hammin burst out as two of the uniformed police came forward to place him in irons. Several of his personal staff watched, perplexed. "I demand to know who ordered this!"

"My orders come from Parliament direct," the officer answered, nonplussed. "Would you do your station some credit, please, and come quietly? I have no need to list your crimes in front of your staff, but I do have the desire. Trash like you sickens me."

"I have committed no crime, you qiang bao hou zi de jackanape!"

"Shall I remind you of the civil tong