"I believe," Ross interjected quietly, "that Mr. Halian was referring to Tomo's continuing presence aboard the Goldenrod."
It took a moment for Scharn to pick up exactly what he meant. "You mean leaning toward sociability will make him less able to stand solitude? Um... Maybe, maybe not. It depends partly on whether—"
She stopped as a double ping sounded from Halian's desk, followed by Iris's cool voice. "Mr. Halian, Goldenrod Mainter Tomo has left his quarters and entered the station: moving spinward on corridor D-9. Do you have instructions?"
Scharn felt her stomach tighten. It had been her suggestion, but she hadn't really expected Tomo to act on it. Halian and Ross looked even more stunned.
"Full sector/level monitor until further notice," Halian instructed the computer. "Is anyone else in that immediate area?"
"Negative," Iris reported. "D-8, D-9, and D-1 are clear."
"All right." Halian looked at Ross as if for advice, but didn't seem to get any. "All right, just monitor Tomo's movements and keep me informed. I'll be on mobile. Oh, and better lock down all computer outlets and elevators in his vicinity, just in case." He picked up a small rectangular clip-on from the side of the viewer screen and stood up, the others following suit. "Let's get after him."
"Can't you seal him into that corridor?" Scharn asked.
"I could," Halian told her. "But it occurs to me that letting him run into a few people might be the best way to convince him that he can't handle that kind of social interaction."
Scharn's first reaction was that he was making an exceptionally poor joke. A half second later she realized he was serious. "And what if it merely drives him over the edge permanently?" she asked coldly. "Or don't you care about that?"
"He won't hit any heavily populated areas for quite some time without the elevators," Halian assured her. "If meeting with us didn't do anything permanent to him, neither will any situation he's likely to run into up there. Besides—" He hesitated. "The fewer people who know about this, the better. For all concerned."
Especially for you, Scharn thought bitterly. "I'm going for the sedation kit I left in my quarters," she said. "Will one of you wait here for me?"
"We both will," Ross said before Halian could respond.
There was something in his voice that made Scharn look hard at his face. But whatever was wrong was too well hidden for a quick interpretation, and she didn't have time for anything else. "All right," she said. "I'll be right back."
—
Ross waited until the door had closed solidly behind the psychiatrist before turning to Halian. The director returned his gaze steadily; and after a moment Ross realized the other was going to make him raise the subject. He cleared his throat, glancing at the desk to make sure Iris's monitor was off. "You realize, of course," he told Halian, "that Tomo will pass through the thorascrine leak area on G-deck if he stays in 9-sector on his way down."
"That area's been adequately cleaned up," Halian returned evenly. "You certified that yourself."
"For us, yes. But Tomo's been in a medium-radiation environment most of his life. There've been reports that that can sensitize a man, make him much more susceptible to thorascrine poisoning." He paused, waiting for a reaction that didn't come. "But I see you already knew that, didn't you?"
"I may have heard of it somewhere. I don't remember."
"Sure." The sheer callousness of Halian's attitude was infuriating... and yet, even Ross could see the logic behind it. Legally, Tomo was less human than he was property, and Halian had both the right and responsibility of treating him as any other malfunctioning component. "Well," he said slowly, "I suppose it actually would make things a lot easier if Tomo got incapacitated somehow. The Goldenrod would leave on schedule without him and you wouldn't have to make a snap decision on his fitness for deep space. Scharn could take him dirtside and study him to her heart's content. The Goldenrod can manage with a missing mainter, can't it?"
"It can theoretically fly with even three of the six missing." Halian seemed to be having trouble meeting Ross's eyes. "The question then is what would happen to Tomo. If we take him off the Goldenrod he'll probably never be placed on another ship, even if he can be cured or whatever. So Scharn studies him for maybe a year or two... and then what? Starship mainting is all he knows how to do, and given his personality there's really nothing else he can be retrained for."
Ross felt his mouth go dry. To remove Tomo from his ship—by whatever means—was one thing. But this— "What you're talking now is way beyond an incapacitating injury," he said softly. "You're talking deliberate murder."
"I'm not talking anything," Halian said, his face unreadable. "I'm simply... thinking how an accident at this point would... simplify things."
This isn't happening, Ross thought as a sense of unreality seemed to darken the air between him and Halian. Premeditated murder... or was it? How human was Tomo, anyway? Form, intelligence—neither one was exclusive human property anymore. Genetic structure? Tomo's was no more human than that of any other biological construct. Surely there were legal guidelines, but Ross had no idea what they were. He could still raise a fuss, of course, and he could sense that Halian would back down at sun-grazer speeds if he did so, whether the director was in the legal right or not. But would that really do Tomo any favors? Because Halian was right—Tomo really couldn't do anything else. Unless Scharn's bafflegab about some so-called personality evolution came true with a vengeance... but no, that theory was equal parts absurdity and wishful thinking. Which left Ross exactly where he'd started, at dead center.
In front of him, the statue that was Halian came to life, raising the clip-on he still held and flipping it on. "Iris?" Status report on Tomo."
"He's outside the D-13 stairway... He has now entered... moving downward."
"Damn," Halian muttered. "Well, at least that tells us something. If he can still charge on into the station after suffering through that interview with us, it means he's past simple curiosity. He's up to full-fledged obsession." He fastened the clip-on to his tunic collar, leaving it active. "Come on. We'll pick up Scharn on the way."
Ross followed him to the office door, still wondering what he was going to do. It wasn't until they were outside in the wide corridor that he realized the decision had already been made. Halian had given him the chance to object; his silence had been interpreted as tacit agreement. But that can be changed, he told himself. I can still stop this.
But before he could do that, he needed to decide whether he truly wanted to... and the time for that choice was running out fast.
—
A starship pod consisted of eighteen one-room levels connected together by spiral staircases in flight and by simple hatchways when port docking changed the normal directions of up and down. The passageways linking the pods to the central drive cylinder were seldom used, but even they were simple tubes: straight, short, and without stairways or cross-corridors. Never in his life had Tomo been anywhere nearly so confusing as Maigre Port.
He was almost afraid to admit it, but he was pretty sure he was lost.
The obvious solution, of course, was to ask for help; but so far he'd been unable to get any of the hall computer outlets to work. Until he found one that was live there was nothing to do but keep moving.
Ahead, still out of sight around the slight curve, he heard the sound of an opening door; and suddenly there were voices in the corridor.
Tomo's instinct was to freeze, but momentum and a sudden idea kept him moving. The voices were ahead and coming closer, but only a few meters in front of him was a cross-corridor he could duck into. If he hurried... Putting on a last- minute burst of speed, he rounded the corner—