At first, Aubry Graytor didn’t notice the little man. He was barely over five-foot-two and was dressed nondescriptly. Aubry was having enough trouble making her way in the crush of the customs check to pay much attention to any of the adults around her. But the man was insistently tugging on the sleeve of her father’s shirt. Her father pulled away, but then the man said something into his ear, and Kelly directed Aubry and Sint to a side passage with an alcove where there were some advertisements for a spa on Venus. They started to speak, but her father told them to shut up. He turned his attention to the little man.
“All right,” Kelly said. “How is she in danger?”
Her father didn’t mention who “she” was, but Aubry had a notion it was her mother. Danis was now being processed through the free-convert portion of the customs check.
“There have been hostilities,” the little man said. His voice was surprisingly gentle and soft. “There’s no formal declaration of war yet, but all free converts are being detained. They’re claiming that they contain technology that’s proprietary to the Met.”
“We were worried about a clause in a contract that might have delayed her,” her father said.
“They’re using anything and everything to get a legal hold on free converts,” said the man. “If there is the slightest doubt, they aren’t going to let her go.”
“Oh God,” Kelly said. Then he looked hard at the man, the way he sometimes looked at Aubry when he knew she was only telling him part of the truth about something. “Who the hell are you?” he asked.
“My name is Sherman,” said the little man. “Leo Sherman. That’s not important. I work for the Friends of Tod, a group dedicated to free-convert rights—”
“We’ve never had any trouble in that regard,” said her father, “except for a comment here and there.”
“You’re from Mercury,” Leo Sherman said. “The farther out you get, the less freedom for free converts. There’s some slave labor on Mars. Look, we have to work fast. I’ve got a legal convert jamming the system right now, arguing each and every case. Your wife is probably in queue for a hearing.”
“You mean these trials are going on in the virtuality?”
“Yes. But our legal sentient isn’t doing much good. We haven’t won a single case yet. We have slowed the process down enough so that we can seek out . . . alternatives.”
“Alternatives? To what?”
“To your wife being detained and put to work crunching numbers in Noctis Labyrinthus. You have heard of Silicon Valley, haven’t you? That’s what the free converts who get sent there call it. It’s like an aspect being sent to the salt mines.”
“How can I possibly trust you?” her father said.
The little man cracked a smile. “That’s what my father said after I wrecked my first personal transport.” Aubry felt that she might like the man, but a voice inside her told her to be wary. After all, he might be anyone.
“I have a little device with me, encoded into my handshake, actually. It’s legal, but barely.”
“Where did you get this?”
“My organization has quite a few merci programmers and grist specialists as members. I can hook you up with your wife, on a merci sideband. Not full virtual, but it should be enough. Would you like to talk to her?”
“This could be a trick,” said Kelly. “It feels like a trick.”
“You’re going to have to trust me,” Leo Sherman said. “At least so far as to shake my hand.”
Her father frowned, then seemed to make up his mind. He looked down at Aubry. “If anything weird happens,” he said, “grab your brother and run like hell.”
And then he quickly shook hands with Leo Sherman.