he couldn't be sure.

"Not the guard lady," she said. "The Alpha lady."

Thomas froze. Then he picked her up and carried her to the reserved pad where he parked his hover car.

Jamie spoke uncertainly. "Did I say a bad thing?"

"No, not at all." He opened the back door of his car and set her in the child seat. As he strapped her into the contraption, she watched with deep concern.

Thomas sat next to her. "How did you hear about Alpha?" He would have Matheson's hide if he was talking about secured matters in front of a child.

She shook her head and her curls bounced around her cheeks. "You told the man who laughs."

"What man?"

"The man inside your desk."

"My desk?"

"Barl?"

"You mean Bartley?"

"Yes." She brightened. "That was his name."

A chill went up his spine. She couldn't have heard the senator. That line was secured, besides which, it was impossible for someone in Matheson's office to hear anything in Thomas's office. "How did you hear him?"

"I don't know. But you talked about Alpha."

"G.o.d almighty," he muttered. "How could security be that bad?"

"I'm sorry, Grampy." Jamie looked confused. "Don't be mad."

"I'm not." He patted her arm. "You helped me. You're my special agent."

Relief poured across her face. "Can I be a general, too?"

Thomas laughed softly. "Maybe someday."

"Where do we go now?"

"My friend Sam is going to look after you for a few hours."

Jamie regarded him warily. "Is he nice?"

"She." Thomas smiled at her look of doubt. "And she's very nice. I've known her since she was your size. Her father and I were friends."

"Oh." She sat considering that information. "'Kay."

"I'm glad you approve."

He got into the front seat and put the car on the traffic grid. As it took them to Route 32, he contacted security at the base and set up an investigation into what Jamie had told him.

It made no sense. Conversation couldn't travel through those walls. She couldn't have heard him.

How had she done it?

III: An Autumn Walk

To look at Sam Bryton, Thomas doubted most people would guess she was one of the wealthiest people alive, and self-made. Her full name was Samantha Abigail Harriet Bryton, but she rarely used it. She had told him once it made her think of prep schools and pink and green clothes, neither of which came close to her life. She had gone by Sam for as long as he could remember.

Thomas couldn't figure her out. She was among the world's leading EI architects. She had developed a substantial fraction of the AIs and EIs currently in existence. The patents on that work alone made her a millionaire a hundred times over. Add to that her biomech patents and she was worth billions. So why did she hang out in jeans and thrift shop blouses, and wear her hair in that s.h.a.ggy mane of blond curls?

She reminded him of Goldie Hawn, one of his favorite actors from his youth, but she looked like a beach b.u.m rather than a world-cla.s.s innovator.

The lunchtime traffic was heavy enough to slow his commute, even with the vehicles controlled by the interstate grid. Sam was already at his house by the time he arrived. As his car settled in the carport, she opened the front door and leaned against the frame, watching him with undisguised curiosity.

Jamie was humming in her car seat. Although he was still a bit unfamiliar with its straps and buckles, he managed to get her out of the car without too much jostling. As he picked her up, she snuggled in his arms and peered at Sam.

"She's pretty," Jamie decided.

"She is," Thomas said. "But don't tell her that. She gets annoyed easily."

"Why would that make her mad?"

"If I could answer that," he confided, "many people would be in my debt."

As they reached the door, Sam straightened up. "Hi, Thomas." She smiled at his bundle. "You must be

Jamie."

Jamie hid her face against Thomas's shoulder, and alarm brushed him. What if she refused to stay with Sam? He couldn't take Jamie with him for the rest of the day.

Sam didn't seem fazed, though. "So where's her stuff?"

He blinked. "Stuff?"

"You know. Toys. Food. Diaper bag."

Jamie lifted her head and glared at Sam. "Don't need diapers," she stated loudly.

Thomas's face heated. "I don't have anything," he told Sam. Then he remembered the bag Leila had

given him last night. "Wait. Some of her things are in the kitchen. A bag with puppies on it."

"I'll find it." Sam seemed about to laugh, probably at him. "I've never seen you babysit before."

"Leila had an emergency." Thomas carried Jamie into the house, which was filled with sunlight from the

many windows. "Her law firm told her that if she didn't take this trip, she was out of a job. They landed a big client and he would only work with Leila."

Sam followed him into the living room. "That sucks."

"Sam!" Thomas wanted to put his hands over Jamie's ears. Then again, she probably had no clue what the phrase meant.

"Sorry," Sam said. She had the grace to refrain from saying she had heard much worse from him in his

younger days.

Thomas set Jamie down on the couch. "Apparently the partners are concerned because Leila has already refused several trips. She's supposed to be one of their stars, rising in the firm. Well, good, but she wants a life, too."

Jamie was standing on the couch. "Mommy was mad."

"I don't blame her," Sam said. She glanced at Thomas. "What about Karl? Can't he take care of his own kid?"

Thomas scowled at her. "He's giving an important paper at a math conference in California. Nothing

wrong with that."

Sam just looked at him. What could he say? He had his own doubts about his son-in-law. It was difficult, because he liked Karl Harrows. He had since Leila first brought the gangly young man home.

Intelligent fellow, too, a math professor at the University of Maryland, College Park. But Karl was

spending more and more time away from home, building his career, too often leaving his wife to act as a single parent, until Thomas felt like administering a swift kick to his son-in-law's rear.

"He's trying to come back early," Thomas said.

"Yeah." Sam didn't look like she believed it. She let it go, though, which he appreciated. He didn't want

to talk about it in front of Jamie.

Thomas dropped into his armchair, glad to rest. Jamie started to fuss, jumping up and down on the couch. She pulled away when Sam tried to put her in a chair.

"Don't want to sit down!" Jamie yelled.

"Moppet," Thomas said. Then he ran out of words. Janice had always been better at calming a cranky

child. She used to carry Leila on her hip while she was designing the holoscapes she created as an artist.

Those seascapes in the hallway had been her favorites, and she had refused to sell them despite offers of fifty thousand and more. He treasured them all the more since her death, but he would have gladly given them away if it would have brought her back.

Sam had none of Janice's soft-spoken expertise, but she didn't seem the least daunted by a grouchy three- year-old. She considered Jamie, who was glaring at her. "You can stand on the couch all day," Sam offered. "It might get boring, though."

"Don't want to go!" Jamie said.

"Go where?" Sam asked.

Tears leaked out of Jamie's eyes. "I want Mommy."

Sam gentled her voice. "I'm sorry she isn't here."