Unlike Titus Larimore, Roamers tended to be lean men. Their weight and bulk were important, as they contributed to the overall weight of the rig, which impacted speed and cargo capacity.

Quyn Kestryl and his second Holis were both tall slender men with broad shoulders and long, muscled arms and legs. Vael was a narrower, shorter version of his father, but Zayn was certain he would fill out the same way.

"Boss," Vael greeted Quyn as he stepped down from the rig.

Quyn pursed his lips, arching a brow over his dark goggles at Zayn standing beside his son. "Givin' a tour?"

"He builds models," Vael shrugged, "good, but inaccurate."

"Vetted?"

"He's Zayn Windemere."

Both Quyn's brows rose as he nodded slowly, sharing a look with Holis. "What's your rent?"

"He hasn't said."

"I wouldn't know what to charge," Zayn said quietly, deeply intimidated by Vael's father.

The man was just big all over and Holis was nearly the same size. Zayn felt small enough to be stepped on, and neither man would even notice his squished body on their heavy boots.

The Boss crossed leanly muscled arms over his chest, thinking. "Standard rate," he said finally, "plus ten percent?"

"Fifteen," Vael said. "I've got a private room and en suite facilities with hot and cold water, plus, a full kitchen, and he offered laundry."

Quyn nodded as Holis whistled quietly. The Boss pulled a tablet from inside his coat and scrolled through it.

"See him paid in full. We'll be another three weeks in docks," Quyn added, putting the tablet away. "I want you and Jink to put in that bubble cockpit you came up with. You can start workin' on it after your furlough."

Vael grinned, and Zayn's eyes bulged. "Yes, Boss."

Quyn slapped his shoulder with a gloved hand. "Keep makin' me proud, boy," he grunted, and Vael nodded.

As the men turned to go, Larimore hailed them from across the depot. Forde trailed behind him, mouth set and eyes grim.

"Oy, Kestryl!"

"Larimore," Quyn hooked his thumbs in his belt and let the other Boss come to him.

"That boy a'yers," Larimore stabbed a gloved finger in Vael's direction, "needs his manners checked."

"How's that?" Holis demanded.

"Floatin' wild tales at the armor's."

Holis shook his head and Quyn crossed his arms.

"You sure that was Vael?" Quyn asked carefully. "He don't got a dishonest bone in him."

"He's claimin' ya made him Pilot," Larimore sneered.

"Yeah, sure," Quyn confirmed, adjusting his goggles. "He made Copilot on our last run."

"You lost ya snap, Quyn?" Larimore cried. "He's a boy!"

Forde lifted his eyes upwards and gave an apologetic shrug to the Kestryl men.

"I run my crew," Quyn said quietly, "how I run my crew."

"You throwin' that untrained boy in the cockpit cuz he's ya get!"

Quyn stood tall, towering over Larimore's portly form. To his credit, the other Boss did not back down.

"Vael Kestryl is my son, yeah sure," Quyn said softly, "and been training all his life on the rigs and the trails. So ya know, in the middle of the Marsh and us all-hands-on with swamp dogs crawlin' our ass, my son coupled us up, jumped into the cockpit, and drove us out'a there.

"We were near buried in dogs, and bound to sink 'neath the muck, but my boy had the nerve and the mind to get us rollin'. I put it on the table, and the crew voted him up."

"Unanimous," Holis added, dark eyes brooding on Titus behind his goggles.

Larimore stood silent as Quyn turned to draw Vael up beside him.

"We'll be movin' his bunk to the Boss rig and gettin' him geared and groomed to fit his rank. How's your crew, Titus?"

"Overworked, and underpaid," Forde muttered, earning a glare from his Boss.

Quyn considered the man and gave a nod. "I always got room for upstandin' Roamers that know their shit, Forde."

Forde nodded back. "So, I hear tell."

"My crew's no mind'a yours, Kestryl," Larimore grumbled.

"Nah, and mine, none'a yours." Quyn arched a brow, squeezing Vael's shoulders. He turned away, dismissing the other Boss. "You done here?"

Vael glanced at Zayn, seeing the Steader boy's eyes about to burst. "Yes, Boss."

"Pay your rent, then."

***

Zayn had no means to accept the rent, as he had no account outside of the one the Matron kept for him.

"I don't really want her having authority over funds she didn't give me," Zayn admitted.

Vael took him to the money house and found the banker Quyn used. He was willing to overlook Zayn's name and connections and opened the account with his father's name.

"I know his surname was Nicodemus."

Once it was done, Vael transferred the rent he and Quyn settled upon.

When the funds appeared on his tablet, Zayn gasped. "That's standard?"

"Plus, fifteen percent," Vael confirmed.

"Lords and stars!" Zayn cried. "I have never had so much money in my life! Do you have this much?"

Vael smiled and demurred, "I been earning wages since I was a lad. And for a private bunk, facilities, kitchen, and laundry for three weeks and some, that's a good rate."

"You declined the laundry."

"But you offered it," Vael said, "so it's factored in."

"I have no idea what to do with all of this," Zayn breathed.

"Well," Vael stopped him on the walkway in front of his building, "you could set up a workshop for your models, instead'a shovin' it all under your bed. Or you could see if any of the other units are free and sublet it."

Zayn clasped his hands together in sudden inspiration. "I have to see Mr. Reeves."

He spun away and dashed back down the road. Vael caught up as he slowed down in front of an older brick building and slipped inside.

"Who is Reeves?" he asked under his breath.

"He handled the flat until I came to claim it," Zayn explained. "He would know about other tenants."

Vael stepped back when a wiry man with spectacles noticed Zayn and made his way to them.

"Well met, my Lord," he greeted.

"Mr. Reeves, hello," Zayne accepted his outstretched hand. "I just have a few questions about my father's flat."

The man grew serious and nodded slowly. "I reckon you do, come, come. We can speak in my office."

He threw Vael a baleful look when he made to follow.

"Oh, this is Vael, a friend. I hope you don't mind him joining us," Zayn smiled, linking an arm through the Roamer's.

"Of course. This way."

Reeves led them to the rear of his store and opened the door to his small office. An old-fashioned wooden desk sat piled with papers with two wing-back chairs before it. Reeves settled behind the desk, clearing several stacks away to various shelves behind him.

"I'm interested in possibly taking one of the other units over," Zayn explained, accepting the offered seat. "Are there any available?"

Vael closed the door and leaned back on it, crossing his arms over his chest. He reckoned it was a good spot to be close enough to hear but not so close he was hovering and invading the conversation.

Reeves knelt behind his desk, and they heard keys, then a lock clicking open. When Reeves stood, he held a metal lockbox. There was a slit on one side and a red display on top.

"If you could touch this for me, my Lord," Reeves sighed, settling into his chair, "I will be happy to answer as many questions as I can."

Intrigued, Zayn laid his palm on the box. A blue light scanned his hand and the top of the lockbox snapped open.

"Very good," Reeves smiled, rubbing his hands together. "Now, your father did not simply purchase the flat you now occupy," he explained. "He purchased the entire property. "

Zayn blinked in surprise. "He owned the whole building?"

Reeves put aside the lid and handed Zayn a tablet from inside. From what Vael could see, there was an entire stack of them in there. "Technically, you own the whole building. He put it all in your name."

While Zayn sat in silent shock, Reeves passed a hand over the tablet. The screen flickered on, and a man's face appeared.

"Zayn, I've been waiting for this day since you were born," the man began, his voice was mellow, and he spoke with a mild brogue. "You may not remember me, but I am your father. My name is Carmyne Nicodemus, and I've so much to tell you.

"First and most importantly, if ever you doubted, I wanted to keep ya with me, but the Matron wouldn't allow it. Please know that I've loved you since your Ma caught with you.

"Take some time to talk with Fin Reeves. This is just one of several messages I have for you. Don't worry," Carmyne smiled. "We have all the time we need."

Zayn turned pale green eyes wide and glistening to Reeves as the screen went dark. "You knew about this?"

"You were just fourteen years old when you came to me about the flat. Younger than Carmyne anticipated. You are so much like him." The man grew wistful. "He loves you dearly, and he has always hoped to see you again."

"He's alive?" Zayn's voice was hoarse with emotion.

Reeves narrowed his eyes. "Have you been told otherwise?"

"The Matron told me he died just after he left Windemere."

Reeves pressed his lips together and rested his elbows on the desk. "Carmyne did everything in his power to stay here to be part of your life. The Matron offered him an outrageous sum to relinquish all claim to you, but he wouldn't do it.

"Your wetnurse and nanny used to bring you to see him at that flat every day. When the Matron found out, she put a price on both their heads. They barely escaped the Stead alive."

"Millicent," Zayn whispered. "I remember her. Why can't I remember my father?"

"Millicent replaced Sofi," Reeves pulled a photo from the box. It showed Carmyne holding a boy up in the air with a woman laughing beside them. "This is Sofi, Carmyne, and you when you were just a wee lad."

Reeves sighed as Zayn devoured the picture. "He tried everything to win custody of you, even taking it to the Enclave. They all sided with the Matron."

"Of course," Vael grunted, drawing their attention. "My pop says to go against the Matron is to sign your own warrant," Vael explained. "Your pop didn't have a prayer of winnin', but he kept tryin'. That's a man enamored with his boy, not a man plannin' to abandon him. My mama left me somethin' like that, too, so I'd know her comin' up."

"He did keep trying," Reeves agreed. "He and Sofi even planned to take you away, but the Matron caught wind of it. They only escaped because she holds no sway over the Roamers, and the Quorum wouldn't hear her. Kestryl took them to safety."

Vael perked up. "I'm Kestryl."

"Of course," Reeves smiled. "You are the image of your mother, Desmona. Mona was Clan RoShae before she got with Quyn. She and Quyn, Carmyne, Forde and Titus, Eudora, Darin Klasse -your banker-," he added to Zayn," and I were all friends growing up."

"So," Zayn said, clutching the photo in both hands, "Quyn Kestryl knows my father."

"He's the one that delivers the tablets," Reeves nodded. "I have dozens. These are yours to take now. I have more to give you when you're ready. Oh, and," he shuffled through some papers and pulled out another tablet.

"Your father left an account for you under the name Nicodemus at the banker's. Darin called just as you were leaving the money house. We transferred your deposit into the old account. Here are your details."

Zayn stared at the dark tablet a moment before taking it. The moment he touched the device, it lit up. Figures rolled up the screen until it came to the total. Zayn dropped the tablet on the desk. "How much??"

Vael peered over his shoulder and whistled at the total. "More than enough to do whatever you want without asking the Matron for a pento."

"Every bit of funds that building made he deposited here for you," Reeves tapped the tablet. "He bought it before you were born and started letting rooms right away. Clever, he is, always was. Planned and hoped for so much for you.

"So, as to whether you can sublet the units, yes," Reeves continued, "but there's no need to pay anything because they all belong to you anyway. There are four buildings, three stories above and two below. All but four units above ground are being used now, besides yours. Your entire basement, however, is empty. So, whatever you want to do with it, feel free."

Zayn sat open-mouthed for almost a full minute. "I need to think."