YEAR: 25

Braheton City, Central Tharsis, Mars

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Gwen and Matthew sat together on a bench in a shaded corner of Ruiz Park, mere meters from the river. A large monument carved from native sandstone blocked the view of anyone coming up behind them. Historically, this was the spot closest to where the first settlers had arrived, the original structures they'd built now covered by the river that had been formed by their terraforming efforts. The land of Ruiz Park had once hosted an auxiliary power building that served backup for one of the main terraforming plants on Mars. As terraforming technology progressed, most of the old plants were torn down slowly over a period of time and the site of the park had lain neglected for many years, until a revitalization project built the present park and monument. Gwen and Matthew had often snuck away from Creche to come here; as children it had seemed lightyears away simply by virtue of lying beyond their neighborhood.

"Remember when you fell into the river?" said Matthew, as though reading her mind. He gestured to a red boulder perched on the edge of the water. "Right over there, if I remember correctly."

"I remember when I chased your G-ball into the river to try to retrieve it for you, if that's what you mean."

He chuckled, ignoring the sharpness in her voice. She didn't mind his laughter; he of all people would know her tone was caused by nerves rather than irritation. "Yeah, that's what I mean."

"They make ones now that float. I guess you weren't the only one to lose a G-ball that way."

"The ones that float don't work as well."

She looked at him and saw that he was serious. "You still play G-ball?"

"Sure. I'm middle-aged, not dead. Why are you so surprised?"

"I'm not. I just didn't know. I guess we haven't seen much of each other lately."

"Well, we're both pretty busy." He squinted at the river. The water was choppy today and sparkled like diamonds under the sun, a rare effect that Gwen might have appreciated if she wasn't so wound up. "Shouldn't that guy be here by now?"

She checked the time on her locator and discovered he was right. The investigator was almost ten minutes past due. She was about to loke him when she heard the crunch of footsteps approaching from behind the monument. She and Matthew rose to receive him, Matthew's hand on the small of her back, the small gesture of support calming her. She had almost convinced herself that she had her emotions under control when she was completely undone by the sight of Cray strolling around from behind the monument. A hundred thoughts flew threw her mind at once. He's having me followed. He's bribed Fenton. He knows about my past. He knows everything.

"Gwen!" Cray stopped in mid-stride as he caught sight of her. Fortunately, he seemed as surprised as she was. Matthew's hand fell from her back. If Cray noticed this, he didn't let on. "Matthew. Hello. Out for a walk?"

"Yes," she said, at the same time Matthew said, "No." Shit. They looked at each other and Matthew raised an eyebrow. You explain, then, said his expression.

She met Cray's poker gaze and tried again. "Yes, technically we're out for a walk. But it's to meet a client." She looked down at her loke again, even though she didn't need to; a scant thirty seconds had passed since she last checked it. "Who is late. We thought he was you… or you were him."

"I see." Cray looked faintly amused and completely without guile. The jacket of his ecru business suit hung over his arm, and in his other hand he carried a small white bag from a pastry shop. The warm breeze ruffled his dark hair. He was out for an afternoon stroll. That was all. Braheton was a small city, and the parks along the river were popular on nice days. Gwen willed down her blood pressure, scolding herself for her overreaction. This was it, she decided. Once Fenton told her whatever he had to say, she was done. No one would do as much poking around as she had, anyway.

"Why don't you loke the client, Wen?" said Matthew. She noted his faint emphasis on the word client. He would play this the way she wanted, but he had expressed at the outset that she ought to tell Cray, and he clearly still held that opinion. "I have a meeting in forty-five minutes I can't be late for. I'm pushing it as it is."

"Right." She fired off a message to Fenton, who didn't even ping her back. Wonderful, she thought. More drama. "He's not answering."

"What are you two working on?" Cray stepped past them to sit on the bench, drawing a blueberry muffin out of the pastry bag. Matthew scanned the park, and Gwen knew exactly what he was thinking: the richest man on Mars if not settled space, currently involved in a controversial interplanetary corporate imbroglio, out in the open with no obvious protection, slumming it on a park bench with a two credit muffin for lunch.

"The eminent domain thing," said Gwen, covering a lie with truth. "Remember? You met them last week at Oshiro's."

"Right. Marc Shane. I liked him. Can't say much for the actor." Gwen was constantly amazed at both his ability to remember the name of every single person he met, and his complete ignorance of popular culture beyond the sports he followed. "Anything I can help push along for you?"

"Not unless you know someone at Subsidiaries, Limited," said Matthew. Gwen glanced at him in surprise. It was the first time he'd ever even hinted at asking Cray for a favor. Cray shook his head.

"Never heard of them. That's quite a business name."

"Yes, it is," said Matthew wryly. He looked back at Gwen. "I'm sorry, but I really can't stay any longer. Why don't we reschedule the client?"

"I'll handle it."

Matthew studied her a few moments, then nodded. "Okay. Let me know how it goes."

After he'd gone, she took a seat on the bench next to Cray. "Where's your security detail?" She could usually spot them easily, but she saw no sign of them today.

"I ditched them back on Fleet. I wanted to eat in peace." He finished the last bit of muffin and brushed the crumbs off his pricy trousers, then fixed her with his intelligent gaze. "So who are you and Matthew meeting here, really? Not a client. You don't meet clients in city parks."

Damn. She should have known he wouldn't be fooled by that farce. On the plus side, it seemed he genuinely had no idea what she was up to, which meant coming as close to the truth as possible was probably the best way to go. She let a breath out and gave an affected sigh worthy of Laken. "A private investigator. He's looking into some things for us. Background checks, et cetera."

"Matthew can't do that himself?"

"Not in this particular instance, no. There are some things it's better for him to keep his distance from."

"All right." Cray rose abruptly. "I should get back before Armando reports me missing. Dinner tonight? Laken's sleeping at a friend's."

"Sure." She rose to accept his goodbye kiss, and watched him stroll across the park. As soon as he was out of sight, as if on cue, her loke sounded. The investigator. Finally. She answered using her curt voice. "You're late."

"Yeah. The grid was down in South Braheton. Had to hoof it over here, then didn't want to mess with your husband. No offense. Is he coming back?"

"No. He's working."

Her loke went silent, then she saw Fenton step out from behind a clump of trees just twenty meters away. She was impressed and a little disturbed that he'd gotten so close with neither she, Cray, nor Matthew noticing. As he approached, her nerves started up again. He looked her up and down in his bland way, then gestured to the bench.

"Ms. Mendez, you might want to sit down for this."