4
I SAID, “SHIT.” And then again, “Shit.” And a bit later, “Is there a record of him using the Exchange?” Goodness knew where Ezhya liked to take his private guests for stargazing. Back in the days of my first involvements with him, he’d taken me to view Asto from orbit, its mega-cities, its landscape crisscrossed with open aquifers. I’d come to treasure that trip and the wonders I’d seen: the pinkness of the desert, the livid green of the aquifer communities, the vile yellow and orange oceans, the crater with its purple mist and the crystal wastelands.
The guard said, “The Exchange is in a state of chaos. Mashara did not think it prudent to disturb them with questions.”
Wise, probably. “Has mashara spoken to the Yetaris Damaru?” The Barresh Exchange was unusual within gamra, as the onl
