In the warm sunshine by the lake Zoe stared out across the water to where Hank had baited his hook and dropped it off the side of the boat, and was now waiting for something to bite. Pretty much like she was doing. She’d asked Sam what her husband had said about Sweetwater …

“Not a great deal,” the therapist admitted. “It wasn't the specifics he wanted to talk about.”

“No. He said that didn’t matter.”

“I have, of course, heard of it.”

She jerked her head around to look at him. “You have?”

“Of course.” He looked surprisingly relaxed. “It’s almost impossible to read anything about the war without encountering the Dust Devils. That the places they hit were mostly military, but there were other incidents. Soft targets.”

She was surprised. “Sweetwater was listed?”

“It was.”

She sighed heavily. “My ignominy write large for the ‘verse to see.”

“It didn’t mention names.”

“That’s only a small comfort. They didn’t know who we were, else I'm sure we’d be splashed over the pages.”

“Probably.” He ran a hand through his short hair, and an idle and treacherous thought crossed his mind as to how long it would take to grow back, but his main focus was on the woman next to him. “You were in the camps with Mal, yes?”

“Mmn.”

“So the Dust Devils were after?”

“No. Before.” She leaned down and picked up a stone, tossing it into the lake, watching ripples spread across the water. “Mal … after we got picked up by the medships, he got sick. Real sick. Only it wasn’t just his body that was rebelling. They put him in the infirmary, wouldn’t let me see him at first, then when I managed to get there he hardly seemed to know me. It made me … mad, I guess.”

“So you joined the Dust Devils for him?”

“That’s what Hank asked. And no. Not really. But … there was an escape planned, and I got caught up in it. I didn’t want to go, wanted to stay close to Mal, but they said I had to, since otherwise they were afraid I’d tip the Alliance off.” She shook her head. “As if I would.