“I imagined you changed, so many ways.” Gabriel Tam regarded his son, his face giving away nothing. “But you just look tired. And you’ve lost weight.”

“Father… why?”

“A great many questions in that simple word, I’d wager. I really don’t know where to start.” He gestured hesitantly to a squat bottle and two glasses. “Your favorite, as I recall. It wasn’t easy to lay hands on out here. Will you drink with me?”

*

Sessions rejoined his men at the bottom of the stairs. Alone and unobserved, the two relaxed around their boss. One of them looked up at the door. “So, what’s this all about, Al? What’s Thompson want with this kid?”

“Didn’t say, Dickie. At a guess, he’s looking at him and his sister as unfinished business. I suppose he’s got an offer of some sort for them.”

“Which’ll prolly involve us. Been busy as a one-man band since we took this job.”

“We have been juggling geese a bit,” Sessions admitted. “Wasn’t supposed to be like this. Duvie should have been waiting for us when we got here. Thompson was sure the trade group he was seeing would take longer to strike a deal. When this other job came our way, I wasn’t sure I’d have time to line up transport for that box. But it all worked out. And like you say, Thompson’s already coming to us for more work.”

Dickie nodded. “Plenty times, I wish we was on his payroll permanent. No offense, Al, you keep us in work, and the pay’s good, but some of the people we do jobs for I wouldn’t share a meal with.”

“Like the little peckerhead we’re handling that crate for,” the other said. “That story about it being another package for the Underground. What was that all about?”

Sessions raised an eyebrow. “How do you know it’s not?”

The man twitched a shoulder. “Not much like anybody in the Underground we ever dealt with.”

“Be thankful for that. Some of those guys I wouldn’t leave alone with my beer while I took a piss. Believe me, he’d fit right in. That gang ever ends up running the Alliance, the Rim won’t be far enough away.” Sessions glanced up