No one notices little girls if they huddle motionless as dolls and make no noise when they cry. Soolin was very still and very quiet next to cases of wood pulp in the hold of the cargo ship lifting off from G.P.. She had some jerky to eat from her father's knapsack when he'd been killed; unfortunately, she was very, very thirsty, but she couldn't ask her mother for a glass of water because her mother had been killed, too. She had to wait until they reached a planet. She hoped her father's cousin Del Grant would take her in.

"Two ales, one gin, and crispies," Soolin said. The miners applauded, drunk enough to see her recitation as an amazing feat of memory. But she'd kept whole dinners, including afterdinner cordials, in her head. It was good discipline. Shooting was in the mind as well as in the body, so along with gun handling, she spent her free days practicing Auron meditation techniques.

When she brought their drinks, one of the miners smiled and held out a fifty credit tip. Soolin didn't hesitate to take it, even knowing he wanted more for his money than ale.

She'd do anything. Anything.

"Step right up! Test your skill against the girl! Our hundred against your half-coin!"

Soolin sat in the booth's shade. She remembered to play with her doll when marks glanced in. She hadn't been interested in dolls since she was five, but looking younger was part of the gig.

"Step right up!"

A skinny teenager didn't even hit the bullseye once. Soolin shot perfectly as usual, and watched Big Rob relieve the boy of his coin.

Rob gulped down some lemonade and held out a cup for her. "Being your barker sure beats working as the bearded lady," he said.