That was it for the day. We headed back to base, Simon tagging along in order to talk to Lucky some more.
    Once on the island she sniffed. "Someone's been here."
    "Gee, you think so? Amazing deduction." I mean, considering that there were two brand-spanking-new hovercycles parked out front that hadn't been there that morning. "Wow. I take it New Horizons has been here?" I asked Scott, going inside.
    "Yes. John Alexander was here today. He made some upgrades to the computer system also."
    I could see that much without him telling me, watching graphics flash across the screen considerably more quickly than they ever had before. Whatever he was working on looked complicated. "He leave any instruction manuals for those things?"
    "Four copies."
    A year ago I would have been a lot more excited, admittedly. Promethean and I don't have any real use for them, we can both move faster on our own, but Lucky and maybe Scott would feel differently; he can't move very quickly in the air under his own power. Lucky seemed dubious about anything that left the ground; she's pretty attached to her bike.
    Scott went out to visit his "father" while the rest of us held a strategy session. Simon seemed pleased by the way events had gone during the day. Washington would probably try to put Lucky on the stand the next day; he continued to urge her to take the Fifth, but she seemed reluctant. She wanted to tell her side of the story, to explain her actions in some sort of context. And she wasn't sure about the sealed records; maybe if they knew that she had seen the deadly effects of mob warfare upon her own family, they might understand why she had done as she did? I pointed out that they probably wouldn't really care, that it would just look as if she had been motivated by an urge for revenge, they would try to twist anything she said to their own purposes.
    She seemed to think silence would imply guilt—or worse, surrender. Velke said she was free to speak if she wanted to, he could only give her advice. If she did, her past would become public. Unless she mentioned it first, they wouldn't be able to bring it into the case, but if she did, bets were off. Whatever she decided to do, he would do his best to help her.
    "Lucky," I asked her after a while, "if they ask you, and from the way they were questioning me they almost certainly will, why, when you went after him, you hit him full force like that, what will you tell them?" She was silent for a long moment. "Don't tell them anything," I advised her quietly.
    We were all pretty burned out. Simon headed home. Scott returned from his visit and reported his creator to be in relatively good spirits, although increasingly frustrated by his hospitalization. Promethean remained absent; we hadn't gotten a distress call. He was probably rather puzzled by the situation he had found himself dropped into. I went to bed.
    Lucky left ahead of us the next morning so she could meet with Simon some more. Scott came along with me this time, increasing the size of the audience by one. The bench creaked protestingly beneath the weight of his solid form, which was reasonably humanoid but only more disconcerting because of it. Those same two guys were sitting in the back; they looked noticeably nervous when they saw the robot.
    As expected, Washington called Lucky to the stand. He seemed different, less sure of himself than he had been the day before. She looked a little paler than usual in her black attire, but reasonably composed. She didn't choose silence. I'm still not sure if that was a good decision; it worked, but not for any good reason.
    "Miss McKay. Would you please explain for the court the functionality of your... weapon."
    "Well, it's these gloves." She took them out of her pocket—I hadn't actually noticed that she wasn't wearing them.
    "And how does it operate?"
    "I just... will it to appear."
    "Have you any idea of why?"
    "Not really. Needle says they're alive."
    "Hm. Then they are, in fact, organisms?"
    "They're not organisms. They're gloves. Here." She offered them to him to examine if he wished. Not surprisingly, he passed on the chance and moved on to other topics.
    "Would you please describe for us the events of April 10th, Miss McKay," Washington began.
    "Starting where?"

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