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[I see,] Minnario said thoughtfully. [Well, as I said, the scholar’s report is full of problems. It shouldn’t be a problem to pick at it until it falls apart.]

“I’ll hold you to that,” I said. “Was there anything else?”

[I have no other questions, no,] Minnario said, easing his chair backward. [Now that I have possible names for Chinzro Hchchu’s information source, I can begin backtracking and hopefully have some material on hand when he officially reveals the name.]

“So as to have your sword in the en garde position?” I suggested.

Minnario laughed again. [Indeed,] he said. [I should have known that a Human would have little trouble adapting to the legal flavor of the Slisst Protocols. Your recent history’s still so bloody.]

“Thanks,” I said dryly. “I think.”

His smile faded. [Speaking of blood, did I hear Usantra Wandek say that your companion’s medical condition has worsened?]

“Yes, and Bayta and I need to get back there,” I said.

[Do you wish me to escort you?] Minnario offered. [But no—you can surely travel to her side faster by yourselves.]

“Probably,” I said. “But if you’d feel better traveling together…?”

[No, no, I’ll be fine.] He looked ruefully down at his chair. [Someday, Mr. Compton, I’ll be free of this chair.]

“Absolutely,” I assured him. Though if he figuratively bloodied Proteus’s assistant director by beating him in this ridiculous trial by verbal combat, it might be a long time before anyone aboard the station found the time to treat him.

Firmly, I shook the thought away. Surely Hchchu wouldn’t be that petty. Even if he was, I could only deal with one crisis at a time. “Then we’ll see you later,” I said, sliding off the stone bench and taking Bayta’s arm. “Oh, and this time will you do me a favor and leave your comm on?”

[I will,] he promised. [My regards to your friend.]

The green directories worked exactly the way Minnario had described. I used them four times on the trip back to Terese’s medical dome, the last three times just to double-check my memory, and I felt a flush of warmth in my cheeks each time I did so. I really should have picked up on that on my own.

We arrived at the door to Terese’s building to find Emikai waiting for us. “How is she?” I asked.

“I am not certain,” he said, beckoning. “Come and see.”

Dr. Aronobal was waiting in Terese’s room. So, to my mild surprise, was Usantra Wandek, dressed now in his doctor’s tans instead of his guardlaw outfit. “Mr. Compton,” he greeted me gravely. “It’s good of you to come.”

“Nice to see you again, too,” I said, shifting my attention to the bed. At first glance Terese didn’t seem to have changed much since our last meeting, though she was hooked up to more wires and monitors than she had been before.

But on my second look I noticed her sunken cheeks, the dark circles around her eyes, and her slightly sallow skin. “Hello, Terese,” I said. “How are you feeling?”

“Crowded,” she said, a little of the old fire coming back into her eyes and voice as she looked pointedly around at all of us.

“I don’t doubt it,” I said. “Shall I ask Logra Emikai to throw all of us out?”

She snorted. “I can ask him myself if I want to.”

“Yes, I’m sure you can,” I said, catching Bayta’s eye and nodding fractionally toward Terese. “Actually, I have a few questions for Dr. Aronobal, so I can at least get two of us out of your way. And I think Logra Emikai and Usantra Wandek have a matter or two of their own to discuss.” I looked at Emikai. “For one thing, I’m concerned about the security arrangements at my trial.”

For once, someone actually picked up on one of my cues. “As am I,” Emikai said. “If I may have a moment of your time, Usantra Wandek?”

“What security arrangements are these?” Wandek asked, his blaze mottling a bit with obvious confusion.

“Oh, come now,” I said reproachfully. “I’m a Human aboard a Filiaelian space station accused of murdering six other Filiaelians. Of course I’m going to need security.” I gestured down to Doug and Ty. “Preferably something with a bit more of my own welfare in mind than Chinzro Hchchu’s watchdogs.”

Wandek was still looking unconvinced, but he nevertheless nodded. {There’s a small conference room down the hallway,} he told Emikai. {We can go there.}

The two of them left the room. “Dr. Aronobal?” I invited, gesturing toward the doorway. “Perhaps outside would be best—I could use the fresh air.”

Aronobal hesitated, then looked at Terese. “I will return shortly,” she said. “Call for an attendant if you need anything.”

The dome was, as usual, reasonably deserted when Aronobal and I emerged from Terese’s building. There were a handful of Fillies moving around, most of them walking from one building to another, but that was about it. As far as the mainstream of Proteus traffic flow was concerned, this dome definitely wasn’t in it. “Please make this quick,” Aronobal said. “I have a patient to treat.”

“I appreciate your devotion,” I said. “I wanted to ask about the status of Terese’s unborn baby.”

“Ms. German is aware of our concern for him,” Aronobal said, a little reproachfully. “We could have spoken of this in her presence.”

“Maybe yes, maybe no,” I said, feeling a frown creasing my forehead as I took another look around the dome. I’d brought Aronobal out here purely to give Bayta a little privacy in which to quiz Terese about the attack she’d suffered back on Earth. But now that we were here, something was tingling at the back of my neck.

The dome was wrong. Something about this place was simply wrong.

“What do you mean, maybe yes, maybe no?” Aronobal asked.

That was a good question. With my mind preoccupied with the vague new riddle that was suddenly nagging at me, I grabbed at the first thought that came to mind. “I mean you might not want her around,” I said, “when you tell me the baby’s going to die.”

I expected that to spark some kind of reaction. I didn’t expect Aronobal to grab my upper arms and pull me toward her until my face was bare centimeters from her nose blaze. “Who told you he was going to die?” she demanded.

“No one,” I protested, leaning as far away from her as I could. Beside me Doug gave a low warning growl, no doubt assuming that I was the aggressor.

“He must live,” Aronobal insisted. Abruptly, she seemed to realize what she was doing and hastily released her grip. “My apologies,” she said stiffly as she took a step back. “Do you have new information on the child’s welfare?”

“No, that’s why I asked you about him,” I said. “But I apologize in turn for my comment. It’s what Humans call hyperbole, the deliberate stretching of a situation to its worst possible conclusion in order to make a point. Let me rephrase: there may be things about the child’s condition you wouldn’t want to say in Ms. German’s presence.”

“If that was what you meant, that was what you should have said,” Aronobal said severely. “And my answer is that there has been no such worsening of the child’s condition.”

“And Ms. German herself?”

Aronobal hesitated. “We do not understand what is happening to her,” she admitted. “But her health index is definitely deteriorating.”

“Could whatever you’re doing to the baby be affecting her?”

“We are doing nothing to the baby,” Aronobal said. “We are simply taking fluid and tissue samples and studying his brainwave and metabolic patterns. No genetic work is being performed.”