By the time Brun got back with Kevil Mahoney, Kate and Cecelia were hard at work. Brun helped Kevil into the library, and moved a pile of printouts off a chair for him.

"Looks . . . like fun . . ." he said. "You . . . must be the . . . Texan."

"Ranger Briarly," Kate said. "Just call me Kate. Somebody sure knocked a hole in your stock tank .

. . but I'll get 'em."

"Kate has a healthy disrespect for thieves," Cecelia said.

"I don't like people hurtin' people, and takin' advantage, 'specially of people that's just been shot." Kate gave Kevil one of her wide smiles. "I will bet my best show saddle that there's not but one or two villains in this drama, and I aim to catch every one of 'em."

"You'd be interested in what I found at Kevil's, then," Brun said. She held up a sack and shook it. "Interesting meds to give someone with a brain injury . . ."

"I thought so," Cecelia said. "Was that nurse there? He's been harder to shake with every visit."

"Oh, yes. Very eager to give Ser Mahoney a little something to make the trip out here easier. Then very eager to clear the shelves of the meds."

"I don't suppose you have his access codes," Kate said, looking up.

Brun grinned. "When I got back home, and wasn't going out much, I spent my time building some of the gadgets Koutsoudas has . . . so yes, an illegal datasuck gave me every bit of data on him.

Here." She put it down on the table. "Interfaces to the cube reader or the computer, whichever you want."

Three nights later, Brun was dozing on one of the long leather couches in the library, an arm shielding her eyes from the light, when the breakthrough came.

"Gotcha!" Kate muttered. She no longer looked like the sexy blonde in red fringe; back-to-back all- night work sessions had flattened the hair, and put circles under her eyes. Instead of the tight red suit, she wore loose knit pants and shirt. But nothing could dim the grin she turned on the others. "This is it, partners-we've got what we need."

"Ummm . . ." Brun heard only the first of that, but managed to open a bleary eye for the last phrase. "Got whom?"

"Your uncle Harlis, for starters. He's been acquiring stock in ways that are illegal even here-and I have to say, Brun, that your government needs to overhaul its legal system in a big way. There's holes you could drive a herd of longhorns through, with this bylaws arrangement. All you have to have is one generation of idiots, cowards, and a few bad guys, and it'd be all over for you."

Cecelia's rumpled red head rose from the other couch. "That's all very well, but what did he do?"

"He extorted stock by roughing up some of your weaker relatives . . . you remember tellin' me how surprised you were that your dad's aunt Trema left her stock to Harlis? That was no accident. I've got the paper trail where Harlis got some local toughs to come in and stomp on some of her favorite china, and tell her they'd break her bones just as easy. And he had the police around there in his pocket, told 'em she was a crazy old lady who dropped things and had hallucinations."

"And they believed it?"

"Money makes a strong argument. Anyway, that's not all I've got, and the evidence ought to stand

up even in a crooked court. Which is what you've got, I gather-Harlis contributed quite a bit to the education of certain judges' children. If you've got any kind of an opposition journal, this'll be meat and gravy for 'em."

"I can . . . help write . . . the appeal . . ." Kevil Mahoney said. He was standing, leaning crookedly against the doorframe.

"You're up," Cecelia said. "You're supposed to be resting."

"I've done nothing . . . but rest for . . . weeks. Enough. My memory's still as spotty as a Dalmatian dog, but if you feed me the facts, I can write. I think." His speech had already improved, but now it smoothed even more the longer he talked.

"Good," Kate said, with another of those blinding grins. "Then I think it's time for this Texas gal to go have a rest and a shower. I must look like something the barn cat dragged in."

Kevil Mahoney's name on the bottom of the petition for summary judgement upholding the late Lord Thornbuckle's will might have had little effect, but the thick stack of supporting evidence did.

One of the court clerks called Brun that very afternoon.

"The judge hasn't heard of any of this before-" The clerk's voice was sharp with disapproval.

"Of course not," Brun said. "Ser Mahoney was critically injured, as you know; some of the family files were under his personal lock." She said nothing about Kevil's other problems; a clerk wouldn't have reason to know anything about them.

"Is this all the data you have, or can we expect more?" That was sarcasm, but the clerk sounded uneasy.

"No, this isn't all; this is merely the preliminary filing. My mother, Lady Thornbuckle, is on Sirialis, getting additional data from the main family archives there."

"I see. Well . . . you'll hear from us."

Two hours later, Harlis came storming up the drive, only to be stopped by Brun's new security force. After they disarmed him, and checked with Brun, they escorted him to the door. Brun met him there, backed by Kate, Cecelia, and an upright Kevil, who was leaning on George. Kate had reappeared in full Texan persona, but this time she wore her Ranger badge.

"Before you say anything," Brun said, "let me make it clear: we have all the evidence we need that you engaged in criminal activity to get control of family companies, and we are gathering more."

Her uncle glared. "I don't believe it! You can't do this to me! I didn't do anything . . . it was all perfectly legal. Hobart will take care of you-" Then he blenched.

"How very interesting," Cecelia said. "Hobart . . . Could you possibly mean Hobart Conselline . .

. now why would someone in our sept be working with a Conselline . . ."

"I didn't say Conselline," Harlis said. But he had changed color, and his voice shook. "But it's my right-"

"You had no right to terrify poor old Aunt Trema," Brun said. She was startled to realize that she sounded very much like her father, and wondered if the others noticed. "And yes, we will press charges."

"I'll-I'll see you in hell!" Harlis wheeled and strode down the front walk, shadowed by the guards.

"It's not over," Brun said, as much to herself as to the others. Harlis wasn't ready to give up, and she didn't know what he might do next.

"No, but it's a good beginning," Kate said. "C'mon, hon, wait until you hear Cecelia's next good

idea."

"What?"

"She's found a place for all those inconvenient women and children that Lieutenant Serrano is stuck with. She's going to take them off to a pioneer planet she knows about, where they'll be happier and their skills are needed."

"That's nice for Barin and Esmay," Brun said. "But I wanted her to go tell my mother what we've accomplished. She needs to know that we have evidence against Harlis. We can't trust that to ordinary communications-"

"You're right, but now that Harlis is on the run there's no hurry, is there? Your mother's not going to do anything rash."

EXCET-24.

Ruth Ann took a long look out the windows. It looked cool and green, and she didn't know if this was spring, summer, or winter. Puddles reflected the sky, patches of blue and rolls of gray cloud like unspun wool.

No towering cities, no noisy crowds. When the hatch opened, the air that swept in was cool, moist.

She could smell green growing things on that air. The red-haired woman led the way; Ruth Ann followed close behind. The ground felt good to her feet, even through shoes. It held still; it didn't vibrate.

The red-haired woman with the fancy name-Cecelia whatsis, a Rejuvenant-led the way into a little square building, where they each had to show their ID. Ruth Ann felt the oddness of it, that each person handled their own cards. And hers had her own name on it, Ruth Ann Pardue.