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"And these slime buckets would have been sitting on our jump point, waiting for us. And the Queen would be orbiting in Mykosian space now, empty, with some other name painted on her side."

Dane flexed his hands. How good it would feel to grab some hijacker by the neck and fling him out a lockhole into space! No Free Trade ship should have to go through that again. They simply had to win. They had to.

Rip sighed.

"Winning, right?" Dane asked, humor leaching back into his thoughts. Anger in high grav didn’t feel good; it was as if a big Shver foot stepped on his heart every time it beat.

"And Tooe," Rip said. "First I was thinking about how right our cause is. That any crew would feel the same. Then I thought of Tooe and her, what do you call it again?"

"Klinti," Dane supplied.

"Let’s imagine that everything miraculously clears up and we don’t end up brigged here forever, and we’re ready to blast off. Do you think she’s going to be able to leave those people?"

Dane shook his head. "I don’t know. It’s been on my mind all day today," he admitted. "Until she took off to warn Nunku—and I understand why she did it—I thought there was no problem. But she really does seem to need to see how the klinti is doing, to talk to Nunku, to get her ideas. Makes me wonder if all her work with me is a kind of game." He shifted position to ease a cramp forming in one leg. "Well, Van says whatever happens with her, it’s good practice for me. I guess I’d gotten so accustomed to things as they are I half thought I’d be an apprentice forever."

"I guess we’ll see," Rip said. "Hoo. We have to be almost there—I feel like somebody dropped a spaceship on my chest."

Dane glanced out the port just in time to see them grounding. The maglev whizzed along the Shver countryside, through forests of great-trunked, spreading trees, toward the stop now familiar to them both.

The nature of Shver building made it impossible to scan ahead for dangers; they did not like their domiciles in the open, the buildings were never more than one story—not surprising for a race that couldn’t jump—and even the general-purpose establishments were fairly secluded. Dane noticed, as they slowed, that once you were on the surface you did not even see roads. Was being witnessed traveling as big a taboo as public eating? Or was it merely prudence on the part of a people whose culture was unabashedly militant?

No one to answer that, Dane thought, leaning forward carefully—the

last thing he needed was to strain an abdominal muscle by jerking his body forward just to scan the concourse as the maglev pod gently braked toward its stop.

Shver were about, but none of them bore the clan marking of Golm.

He looked with care on both sides before nodding to Rip. Walking with caution, they disembarked from the pod and started toward the building.

Shver came and went, but except for a curious stare from a pair of small Shver, no one paid them the least heed— overtly.

Dane felt he was being watched, and attributed it immediately to the knowledge that Nunku’s ferret was bound to have been discovered. There were no signs of danger, and he kept ceaseless watch, though it meant turning his head and slowing his step so that he did not risk losing his balance.

They passed inside and went straight to the communications chamber, where Rip took his turn at watching while Dane keyed in for messages.

There was nothing.

Alarm now burned in every muscle, intensifying the pull of the heavy gravity. Something was wrong; Rip did not speak, but the wariness in his gaze and his tightened jaw indicated he felt it as well.

The two men moved just a little apart, in case they had to defend themselves, as they started their retreat. No one waited outside the com chamber. Relieved, they sped up just a bit, until they reached the outer door. There was the pod, not fifty meters away.

Dane wanted to keep his gaze on the relative safety of the maglev pod, as though that would vouchsafe their reaching it, but he forced himself to turn his head from side to side, scanning.

No one was in sight—no one at all.

Bad sign.

"Hurry," he breathed, the word coming out in a whuff. Ignoring the protest of joints, muscles, and lungs, he quickened his step, and Rip did

the same beside him.

Twenty-five meters.

Twenty.

Fifteen—

Shadows appeared on the periphery of his vision, spiking his adrenaline. Crouching slightly, he turned—and his hand encountered the ceremonial weapon of a huge Shver.

Pain lanced through Dane’s knuckles. The Shver—a first-rank citizen, a part of his mind noted hazily—had moved with preternatural quietness right up behind him.

More Shver appeared, hemming in Dane and Rip.

The Shver whose weapon Dane had inadvertently touched began to speak, his low voice sounding like thunder in a distant valley.

Rip stayed silent and watchful, until the Shver suddenly turned and departed as silently as they had come.

"I got that last," Rip said, as they eased themselves into the pod. "Something about Monitors?"

"They’re reporting to the Monitors," Dane said, shock ringing through his head. "All nice and legal," he added bitterly. "Flindyk wins again—a legalized murder."

"What?" Rip exclaimed, then gasped for air. "Murder?"

Dane said, "I’ve been challenged to a duel."

Craig Tau watched Jellico’s impatience steadily increase until at last he laid his hand decisively on the table and said, "I can’t wait any longer. The Kanddoyds might keep all hours but Ross doesn’t, and I don’t want to risk talking to whoever sits in his office when he’s gone."

"We’d just get referred to the Monitors," Van Ryke said.

"Or picked up by them," Wilcox muttered.

Jellico gave one last glance at the chrono and shoved himself gently up from the table, catching hold of the hatchway. "If they’re not back in... half an hour, Wilcox and Stotz, you go get them. Ya, I want you on the com. Cofort, are you still going up to the Spin Axis?" He looked across the mess cabin at Rael for the first time during the discussion.

"Yes," she said. Craig felt her tensing beside him—as if she were bracing herself for an argument.

But he gave a short nod and said, "Weeks, if you go with her, maybe the two of you can shorten the time you’re needed up there. You’ve helped in the sick bay before—just do what she asks you to."

"Glad to help," Jasper said with his shy smile.

Jellico jerked a thumb at Jan Van Ryke. "I want you along with me,

Van. I need your assessment of Ross. Something’s missing, and I can’t put my finger on what. You too, Craig, for the physician’s point of view."

His hard gray gaze lifted, as if by chance, to Rael’s face again, and he hesitated, as if about to say something, but quite suddenly he turned and vanished.

For a time Rael stood where she was, watching the hatchway. Tau was also still, observing. He could heard the captain’s voice in the corridor outside, giving orders to Mura and Ali Kamil, and then he was gone.

Rael Cofort flexed her hands, then suddenly looked up to meet Tau’s gaze. He didn’t say anything, or look away. There was nothing to say. She did not try to hide her emotions; she understood that he knew what was going on. She also understood his compassion—and his determination not to make the mistake of trying to interfere.

She smiled, gave a slight shrug, then she too vanished through the hatchway.

A few minutes later Tau propelled himself through the outer lock after Van Ryke and the captain, then pushed off to sail down the corridor to the maglev halt. With some amusement he watched Van Ryke’s big form maneuver with grace around the corners and up the last corridor.

They settled into a pod, Van Ryke’s bushy white brows soaring as he