YEAR: 25

Braheton City, Central Tharsis, Mars

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Gwen refused the seat Fenton had recommended. He was looking at her as though she might swoon at any moment, and it annoyed her enough to banish some of her anxiety. She leveled her best glare at him and let out an impatient breath. "Listen, I have things to do, and I'm already running late. Just tell me what you've learned."

He looked mildly disappointed by her attitude but pulled out his loke with a flourish and eyed her as he activated the display. "Before we get into this, I just want to confirm something that I didn't want to ask you using insecure communications." He showed her several old holos, none of which she recognized. "These are your relatives, now deceased. Both sets of grandparents, and one aunt—your father's sister—who died young. Any of this ringing a bell?"

"No," she said, studying the images. They evoked no more emotion in her than would a stranger's Feed. Still, she was glad he'd finally found something. She was certainly paying him enough. "How did you get these? Shouldn't their Feeds have been removed when they died without living descendants?"

"They were removed. Technically." He sounded a little smug, and a lot like a spy in a bad Feed drama. "I know people."

"Are you telling me you obtained these illegally? Because you know I can't be a party to that with my career."

"With all due respect, Ms. Mendez, your parents were convicted Sovereigntists who blew up buildings in their spare time. They were so high on the Republic wanted list that Creche expunged their names from your record. I had to search thousands of news reports and trace the locations of hundreds of criminals from your birth decade before I eventually got lucky enough to link the right one in the right place at the right time—your mother. Legally, we've gone as far as we can when we're dealing with a couple of dead terrorists. So, either you want to know more, or you don't. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Gwen controlled a wince. She didn't like it, but she knew he was right. "Fine. I understand. Go ahead."

"So, as I said, these are your deceased relatives. I was able to retrieve their names and other data from their deleted Feeds. If it makes you feel classier, we can call them permadormed," he added with a snicker, using the legal jargon for a government-deleted Feed.

"Okay, thank you. I appreciate your effort." She couldn't wait to fire this guy. "I guess that's it then?" It was a bit anticlimactic, but she wasn't sure what she'd expected. At least she didn't have to worry about any relatives coming out of the woodwork to ruin her political aspirations.

"No, that's not it." He looked triumphant as he called up a holo, a brief moving image of a late middle aged but still fair-haired man exiting an apartment building and hailing a cab. "Do you recognize this person?"

"No. Who is it?"

"His name is Kasper Houben. He was raised, more or less, on Praetoria, but he's spent time on Normandy and Mars as well. In fact, he just moved back to Mars about two months ago. He's worked for various museums as a director or consultant, but he was trained as an astronomer."

Gwen's stomach did a queer little flip. A museum director from Praetoria. Obviously not coincidence, or she wouldn't be having this conversation. Relax, she told herself, it can't be worse than treason. "Okay. So this is someone who worked with my parents?"

"Not exactly. But he did know your parents. Rather well, in fact." Fenton slid the loke back into his pocket and met her eyes. "Ms. Mendez, Kasper Houben is your older brother."