Even without looking, I could sense Bayta’s frown. “What do you mean?”
“Well, for starters, she says her name’s Terese German, but we don’t know if that’s true,” I said. “More importantly, why did the Shonkla-raa pick her to be the host for their little Trojan Horse invader? The Modhri usually shoots for top political, industrial, and military targets. Is that the Shonkla-raa approach, too? If so, what exactly does Terese bring to that table?”
“I don’t know,” Bayta said, her voice thoughtful. “She’s never mentioned any family to me. Maybe it was just her genetics that made her a good host for their experiment.”
“Then why were there all those other women in Building Twelve?” I countered. “Did they all have Terese’s unique biochemistry? Besides, I can’t see the Shonkla-raa limiting themselves any more than they had to. No, there’s something about Terese we don’t know.”
“Do you want me to go ask her?”
“If she hasn’t volunteered the information by now, I doubt she will,” I said. “But she might tell Rebekah, especially if Rebekah asks her nicely. Tell me, are you on friendly speaking terms with the Melding these days?”
“Am I—?” She broke off, and I could feel her shoulder stiffen under my hand. There were at least two different levels of outrageousness in what I’d just suggested, and she was clearly trying to catch up. “I can’t communicate directly with them,” she said after a moment. “Even if I could, I’m not sure Rebekah would agree to do it.”
“I’m not asking her to betray her new friend,” I said. “What I want isn’t even secret. Terese’s data is on file somewhere on Earth—theoretically, we could go dig it out any time we wanted. But that would take time, and time is something we have limited quantities of.”
I could practically hear the question spinning around in her brain: if we were that critically short on time, why were she and I still lying here side by side instead of helping Morse and the others load coral aboard our transport? “I suppose,” she said instead. “I’ll go talk to one of the others.”
“That’s all right,” I said. “My idea—I’ll do it. If any heat comes from either Terese or the Melding over this, I should be the one on the receiving end.” I touched the arm lying across my chest. “I suppose you’ll have to take this back.”
“Okay,” Bayta said, making no attempt to move her arm. “You need to do this right now?”
The bed really was pretty comfortable. “A few more minutes shouldn’t hurt.”
I’d set up this needing-to-rest thing mostly as a pretext to stall our return to the Tube. But it was quickly clear that Bayta really was exhausted, more so than I’d realized. We hadn’t been lying there together more than three minutes when her breathing slowed into the rhythm of sleep.
Apparently, I wasn’t in much better shape. Within a very few minutes, I drifted off to join her.
* * *
I woke an hour later with that heavy, groggy feeling of having had a too-short nap on top of a still massive sleep deficit. Sometime in that hour Bayta had rolled over to face away from me, but her back was still snugged up against my side. I managed to extricate my arm from beneath her neck without waking her and slid out of my side of the bed. A minute later I was walking back down the corridor toward the hangar.
The earlier crowd had long since dissipated, but there was a lone Melding member—a Pirk male—waiting by the docking collar leading into our transport. I approached him warily, but like the other Melding Pirk Bayta and I had run into once before this one had none of the overwhelming odor that emanated from most members of his species.
“Compton,” he greeted me gravely. “You are rested?”
“Enough,” I said. “I need a favor. Two favors, actually.”
He inclined his head. “Speak.”
“I need to know who exactly Terese German is,” I said. “Not her name, but who she’s related to, or under the protection of, or whatever it is that drew the Shonkla-raa’s attention to her. I assume Rebekah’s still talking to her—maybe she can ask her.”
“This knowledge is necessary to your war effort?”
“Probably,” I said. “I’m not absolutely sure, but probably.”
The Pirk nodded. “Then Rebekah will ask her.”
“Thanks,” I said. “Subtly, of course, and without telling Terese that it was me asking.”
The Pirk smiled faintly. “Rebekah has heard all about Terese’s feelings toward you,” he said. “Rest assured, she will know how to ask the question.”
“Thanks,” I said again. “The other favor is that I’d like one of the people who are coming back to Yandro with us to ride on the regular Quadrail along with Bayta, Terese, Morse, and me.”
A flicker of surprise crossed the Pirk’s face. “I assumed you would be traveling on the Spider tenders along with us.”
“Unfortunately, there are a couple of other errands I need to deal with along the way that have to be done at the normal stations,” I told him. “Arriving there by tender would draw more attention than we can afford. Oh, and along with one of your members, we’ll also want to take some of the coral.”
For a few seconds he gazed at me, and I had the sense that the whole Melding was being brought in to consider this one. “What are you planning?” the Pirk asked at last.
My mind flicked back to Morse’s earlier questioning of my motives and loyalties. “The less you know, the better,” I said, trying the same argument I’d used on him.
The line hadn’t gone over very well with Morse. It didn’t do any better with the Melding. “Unacceptable,” the Pirk said flatly. “In our estimation, the risks of knowledge far outweigh the risks of ignorance.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” I said. “But I’m the one in charge, and my decision stands.”
“The Modhri may have accepted your leadership,” the Pirk said. “But the Melding hasn’t yet done so. What if we withdraw from this action?”
“Then you’ll lose your only chance of bringing the Modhri back to the light,” I said. “Without me, I doubt the Modhri will be willing to join with you, and without that joining he’ll be left the way he is now. His mind will stay broken and limited, without the ability to interact with others in any civilized way.” I cocked an eyebrow. “Are you willing to have that on your collective conscience? That you could have redeemed him, but chose not to?”
“Your argument is flawed,” the Pirk said evenly. “The choice is not simply one of showing the Modhri the way, but also of risking our own survival.”
“Your survival is already forfeit,” I said bluntly. “Morse knows where you are. If the Shonkla-raa win, sooner or later they’ll drag that information out of the Modhri and come after you. The only way any of us will live through this is to join forces and take them down.”
“Under your leadership.”
“Yes.”
There was another moment of silent inter-Melding communication. “Very well,” the Pirk said. “Rebekah will travel with you.”
I felt a sudden tightening of my throat. “Rebekah?”
“Is that a problem?” the Pirk asked, eyeing me with an uncomfortable intensity. “Surely her participation in a few simple errands pose no threat to her.”
I grimaced as I realized how neatly I’d just been had. And by whom. “This is Morse’s idea, isn’t it? He told you that I might be willing to put some random Melding member at risk, but would never take a chance like that with Rebekah.”
The Pirk inclined his head in acknowledgment. “Agent Morse is far more versed in such things than we are,” he agreed. “That was indeed his reasoning.”
“Oh, you and the Modhri are going to make a great team, all right,” I said sourly. “Fine—Rebekah it is. How soon before the coral is loaded aboard the transport?”