him."
"And this is important to you?"
"Yes. His grandfather made sure that my mother didn't die alone in poverty."
Venturo's eyes were still dark. "I can't call to the security forces and demand they let him go. I need a reason. Can you claim that the boy is your relative?"
She was an orphan, and Doreem would do anything to save his grandson. "Yes."
"Then there is a way we can quash the deportation. You would have to become a client of the Escana family."
She blinked.
"As a client, you become an honorary kinsman and can't be deported. Neither can your family. As your patron, I would be expected to make the call to security forces and demand the boy's release." Venturo leaned forward, his arms on the desk. "The relationship between patron and client is complicated. The client serves the patron's family with devotion and loyalty. If the patron gives an order to the client, that order can't be refused, even if it costs the client his life. However, the patron, in turn, is obligated to use his influence and resources to take care of his client and assumes responsibility for the client's actions. Being a client is an honor. You're worth it."
He fell silent.
Claire waited. There was more coming, she could feel it.
"I dreamed about you last night," he said. "When I woke up, I had a moment of clarity. I realized why I've been trying to include you in things I like and hoping you might like them as well. I need to know where we stand. As a client, you can't be fired. You're not really an employee - you receive a stipend from the family. You can't be deported. It would make certain things a lot easier. For example, if you want to reject an invitation from me, you could do so without..."
"Venturo," she said softly.
"Yes?"
"What do I have to do to become a client?"
"You would have to swear an oath linking you to the Escana family. And, of course, there is a mind link."
A wave of ice-cold fear washed over her. "A mind link?"
"Becoming a client requires a demonstration of absolute trust and submission," Ven said. "A sacrifice must be made. If you were a fighter with combat enhancements becoming a member of a warrior family, you would submit to a thorough background check and then you would walk up to your patron, hand him a blade, and allow him to stab you. You would do so without any move to defend yourself. We're psychers. We don't stab and we don't need background checks. We enter your mind and read it like an open book."
He would see. He would see everything.
Claire sat still, paralyzed.
She had to act. Kosta could be loaded on a spaceship by now. He would not betray her. He would trust her to stand by him. She was his officer. She had taken him on that mission. She had a duty to him.
"I understand that it's a huge commitment," Venturo said.
"I want immunity."
"I'm sorry?" His eyes narrowed.
"I want immunity," she repeated, her voice hoarse. "I don't want to be prosecuted for things you may see in my mind."
He grimaced. "In light of your exemplary service, I'm sure we can overlook the occasional theft of tea and cookies from the office. Everyone steals office supplies now and then."
"Venturo!"
He looked at her.
"I want immunity."
Ven growled under his breath. "You drive me crazy, Claire. I take you to the house of my best friend, and you get upset. I offer you the highest honor a kinsman family can bestow on an outsider and you haggle with me like I'm trying to sell you apples at the market. Just what is it you're hiding in your mind?"
"You will find out if you give me immunity."
He stared at her. Silence stretched.
"Fuck it. I have to know now. You have your immunity."
She rose. "Come with me."
He followed her. They almost collided with Lienne, as she opened the door of the office. Perfect.
"Follow me, please," Claire said.
Lienne arched her eyebrows. "What's going on?"
"I have no clue," Ven said. "Just play along."
Claire led them down the hallway to the conference room. Charles and Tonya scrambled up at their approach. Doreem struggled to rise. Claire crouched by him. "Do you want to save your grandson?"
"Yes," the old man breathed.
"Then you must adopt me. Write me into the building roll. Right now."
Charles lifted Doreem to his feet. The Building Manager took his scroll-tablet from his bag and handed it to Tonya. She held it up. Claire