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various competing private space companies by forming a merchant marine that would oversee all of them; it was hoped that, this way, disasters like Black Anael would be avoided. Not long afterward, Harker took on the job of the merchant marine’s operations chief. He was still conning a ship, but only part-time; perhaps he was becoming tired of it as well. Chronologically speaking, he was more than one hundred Earthyears old; Andromeda figured that he’d probably had enough of wormhole-jumping and wanted the quiet life of raising his own garden.
    â€œI don’t think it’s a matter of whether or not they like us,” Harker replied. “It’s their trust we’re having a hard time winning. Considering that an Earth ship made an unprovoked attack on the first alien vessel it saw, or that one of our kind blew up our own starbridge because he thought God wanted him to...” He shrugged. “Anyway, you can’t blame them for keeping us at arm’s length. We’re trouble.”
    â€œThat’s what I’m getting at.” Andromeda picked up her glass, then stood up from her chair. The wine, along with the warmth of the afternoon, had made her a little light-headed; she leaned against the deck railing and gazed out at the river. “If I can’t visit worlds because the natives don’t trust me, then what good am I? I wasn’t meant to be a truck driver. If that’s all I’ve got to look forward to...”
    â€œIt isn’t... and that’s why I asked to come see you.” Harker paused. “I’ve got a job for you and your crew. And, no, it doesn’t involve hauling cargo. It’s something else entirely.”
    Andromeda gave him a sharp look. “Exploration?” she asked.
    He nodded. “Yes, it is.”
    â€œHazardous?”
    A shrug. “It could be, yes.”
    Andromeda smiled. “Tell me more.”

CHAPTER TWO
    H ARKER HAD MORE ABOUT THE MISSION IN HIS DATAPAD, BUT the bright afternoon sun made its holo imager hard to use.
    Andromeda was tired of the deck, anyway, so she led Ted into the living room. After making sure he was comfortable, she excused herself to the kitchen to brew a pot of coffee, then made a side trip to the bathroom to find a sober-up patch. By the time she returned to the living room, her head was a little more clear, and she was ready to listen to his pitch.
    Harker had linked his pad to the house comp. He accepted a mug of hot coffee from Andromeda, then settled into one of the bamboo swing-chairs suspended from the ceiling beams. “What do you know about the danui ?” he asked, as Andromeda took a seat in an identical chair across the coffee table from him.
    Andromeda thought it over a moment. “As much as anyone else, I suppose... not a lot.”
    â€œI thought so. Well, let’s review what we do know.” Harker raised his voice slightly. “Display danui emissary, please.”
    The holo projector in the ceiling responded by showing them a life-sized image of a danui . Andromeda had seen pictures of the aliens before, of course; nonetheless, she was glad that this was only a three-dimensional projection. If this one were actually in her house, she’d probably be reaching for the fléchette pistol she kept in a side-table drawer. A little more than seven feet tall, with a black, hairy body standing on six multijointed legs, two of which could also serve as hands, the danui would have borne a strong resemblance to a tarantula were it not for its elongated head, which had the mandibles and eyestalks of a lobster. Had it been naked, she might have mistaken it for some hideous animal, but the garments it wore—an outfit that looked like a cross between a vest and a six-legged pair of shorts, two bandolier-like belts with dozens of pockets, open-fingered gloves at the clawlike extremities of its limbs—clearly showed that it belonged to a sapient, toolusing