"We can't do it," Hao whispered.

  The sand people huddled together in a big pile for warmth, most of them snoring softly on the hard floor. One man stood guard by the entrance, a club in his hand. Smart, to guard the food, and in a good position. The sand people had turned off the lamp, the cave was entirely dark. No one would see the guard. Faint light from above made the canyon a deep shadow in the absolute blackness of the cave. Only my wards, up-tuned to the max, allowed me some measure of sight.

  Geir lay at our feet, flat on his back, jerking in his sleep. Pain, I hoped. Sepsis and fever would be worse.

  "We have to," I said. "Do you want to leave them here? I can't."

  She silently raised a fist, as if to strike me, then equally silently ground it into her thigh. It surprised me to see her this open with her feelings. But, of course, she wasn't. To her, the cave was black as the void. I didn't let on that I had seen. She wouldn't appreciate it.

  "There are four hundred here," Hao said. "Even if we ignore everyone else, we won't be able to fit the Kylians and these people in together. And where would we take them? To the Belithain? Can you vouch for them? Some of them eat people."

  "We can't leave them," I said. "You heard them. There were two hundred of them three years ago. Now they're sixty left from their group. Want to guess how many they'll be next year?"

  Hao didn't answer, merely hugged her long legs, her chin on her knees. Thinking. Staring into the darkness. I wondered what she saw there.

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  She was right, of course. My comment hadn't been fair. I'd vented my own insecurities, my fears and nightmares, on her.

  I didn't want to leave anyone on a Syndicate world. But we couldn't take them, either. The Bucket wouldn't hold them, and I couldn't vouch for them. Maybe they were killers. Maybe they were marauders or cannibals.

  Something moved in the darkness outside the cave. A flutter, then another. Two shapes, small. Kids. The guard at the entrance sensed them, lifted his club.

  My hand went to my holster. Empty. I grabbed Geir's Chimer instead, raised it.

  Didn't know whom to aim at. The kids trying to sneak in, or the guard about to brain them.

  "What'd you want?" the guard said. "This isn't your cave."

  "You came back," a thin voice said. "Got food?"

  "Got trade?" the guard said.

  A moment of silence. None of them moved, barely breathed.

  "Mama's still sick," the kid said.

  The guard lowered his club, backed away from the opening. He grabbed a can at random from his own pile, rolled it across the stone floor toward the kids. It made a low scraping, clanking sound. The kids homed in on it, fumbled for a moment, picked it up. The guard rolled them another.

  "Don't tell anyone where it came from," he said. "We can't feed everyone."

  "We won't," the kids said, feeling their way to the wall and following it outside. The guard resumed his position by the door.

  Maybe they were killers. And maybe they were decent people, who didn't deserve to be here.

  "I've got to bring them out," I whispered to Hao. "I can't leave them."

  "The Bucket won't hold them," she said.

  "Then we'll get a different ship," I said.

  Hao snorted softly, somehow reminding me of the can rolling across the floor.

  "What will you do?" she said. "Bring one down from orbit?"

  I was about to give her some crud, when my brain caught up with my mouth.

  "That," I slowly said, "is not a bad idea."