And practically ran down the two men crouched there.
With a strangled gasp, Tomo hurled himself toward the cross-corridor's far wall, slamming back-first against it. He had just enough time to notice the open access panel and the scattered tools when the men charged him.
There was no chance for thought, no opportunity for anything but the most basic reflexive action. One of the attackers stepped in to block his continued passage down the corridor; slapping the outstretched arm aside with all his strength, Tomo ducked past and ran for it. Their shouts echoed weirdly behind him, partially drowned out by the thudding of his feet on the thin carpeting. He turned at the first opportunity and kept going. Three corridors and a stairway later he finally decided he'd lost his pursuers and slowed to catch his breath. Looking around, though, he could tell there was no use trying to fool himself any further.
He was lost now. Thoroughly.
—
"—and just crouched there looking scared. I went over to see if he was okay, and for no reason at all he hit my arm and took off like a meteor with fluorine afterburners. Till and I called for him to come back, but he just kept going."
Halian pursed his lips, glancing sideways to try and catch Scharn's reaction as they hurried down the corridor. Ross's reaction he could guess. "Either of you hurt?" he asked into his clip-on.
"No, sir," the answer came. "Maybe bruised a little."
"All right. Just get back to work; I'll handle this. Goodbye." He waited for the termination click, then said, "Iris? Where's Tomo now?"
"Corridor F-39," the computer replied.
"Those workers probably just got in his way and he panicked," Scharn spoke up. "Mr. Halian, we've got to close him off from the rest of the station."
Halian could feel Ross's eyes on him. "I suppose you're right. Iris, seal all routes between decks C and H. Are there any security personnel above H-deck?"
"There are four, all currently on E-deck."
"Alert them, and have them start moving toward F-9. They're to try and box him in there—" he hesitated a fraction of a second—"or on G-deck if he gets that far. They're to use minimal force."
Scharn leaned toward the clip-on. "And warn them he's not dangerous so much as he is terrified," she added.
"Right," Halian agreed. "If they can avoid contact until we get there, so much the better."
"Acknowledged. Security forces are on their way."
Halian took a deep breath, let it out as inconspicuously as possible. Stay calm, he told himself. Just stay calm. "The direct-access elevator's right up here," he said, pointing.
They were passing K-deck when the first security report came in: One of the guards had spotted Tomo in corridor G-9, forcing him to move into cross-corridor G-19B.
"Have the guard move just inside G-19B and wait there," Halian instructed Iris carefully. "Order the other three to approach from opposite directions along G19, see if they can keep him from coming out there." He looked at Ross. "Ross... when we hit G-deck, I want you and Dr. Scharn to go down G-29, try to intercept him if he gets to one of the other cross-corridors. I'll go up G-19B and try to cut him off there."
Ross's face was a sweat-plated mask as he gave a silent nod; but fortunately Scharn didn't seem to notice as she dug a hypo tube from her belt pouch. "In case you do," she said, handing the tube to Halian, "here's a sedative—you can inject it anywhere. It's already set for Tomo's weight."
A moment later, they arrived at G-deck. The corridor they stepped out into was deserted and, aside from normal mechanical noises, silent. Ross passed up the final accusing gaze Halian had half- expected from him, taking Scharn's arm instead and heading away without a backward glance. Halian watched until they turned a corner, then permitted himself the luxury of a sigh. The die was now cast; Tomo's fate was in the hands of the universe. The thorascrine leak area was just one turn from the cross-corridor Tomo had entered. If Halian had guessed the mainters probable movements correctly he would soon be in the proper position to send the other "accidentally" through the center of the contaminated region. If the universe had other plans for Tomo, it would have to guide the mainter elsewhere, and under such circumstances Halian would have no choice but to accept its ruling. The director was several generations beyond the spacers who had built Maigre Station, but he still possessed a little of their traditional belief in fate... except that he knew the strong and the clever could build their fate as they chose.
Halian believed in fate. He did not necessarily believe in justice.
Turning, he hurried down the corridor. Tomo would be coming by very soon.
—
Leaning against the wall, Tomo wiped the sweat off his forehead and tried to catch his breath. Safe again... but only for the moment. They were closing in on him now; drawing the walls of their box closer and closer— "They won't hurt me," he whispered aloud. "I don't need to be afraid of them. I don't."
It was so much wasted breath. He was afraid of them, and there was no way he could pretend otherwise. The thought of their approaching him, maybe even touching him... he shifted his shoulders uncomfortably beneath the sweat-soaked coverall. If he could only get back to his quarters before anyone reached him... but he might as well wish himself a child again.
From the corridor ahead and to his left came the sound of footsteps. Tomo tensed; but even as he pushed away from the wall something within him accepted the inevitable. Standing rigidly, legs trembling with their mindless urge to run, he waited as the other came into sight and stopped.
"Tomo?" Director Halian called gently. "I've come to take you back."
Tomo remained where he was, not acknowledging Halian's words but not running off, either. Licking his lips, the director lowered his voice. "Iris? Secure from surveillance mode. I have Tomo in sight."
"Acknowledged. Sector/level monitor disengaged."
Halian flicked the device off... and he and Tomo were alone. "Don't be afraid," the director told the mainter, aware of the irony of his words. "I'm Director Halian—remember? Let me show you the way back to your quarters. You don't have to come close, just follow me at a distance. You can do that, can't you?" Tomo's mouth worked once, but no words came out. Eyes unblinkingly on Halian, he nodded.
"Good. Come on, then." Walking carefully, Halian backed into the corridor he'd emerged from. A moment later, Tomo followed. Step by step they went, separated by the ten meters or so Tomo seemed to find comfortable.
Halfway down the corridor, still walking backwards, Halian stepped over the fuzzy line onto the thorascrine-stained part of the carpet.
A few more steps, Halian told himself, his eyes on Tomo. Once on the stain, his feet kicking up minute bits of the heavy dust, there would be no turning back. Whether enough remained to kill him or merely make him sick, the important result would be the same: The Goldenrod would leave for Canaan Under Vega without the risk of an insane man aboard. After that... Tomo's fate would be in the universe's hands.
And midway through a step, Halian abruptly stopped.
Tomo stopped, too, five meters from the edge of the thorascrine stain, his face rigid with wary tension at the directors unexpected move. Halian stared at him for a long, painful second... and slowly a new truth dawned on him.
It was one thing to discuss death as a necessary and even humane action. It was another thing entirely to face the person involved and personally carry out the proposal.
He couldn't do it. And he hated himself for his weakness.
He took a step toward Tomo... and another... and with the third, Tomo's look of stunned disbelief changed to terror. "No!" he yelled as he spun and disappeared back into the other corridor.