Darcy nodded, and they continued down the corridor, Susan leaning on his arm a bit more than necessary. She felt suddenly weak and vulnerable.
Less than fifteen minutes later, they sat talking quietly in a booth at the back of the restaurant, becoming re-acquainted. Most of what Susan told Darcy about her life since they had last met she fabricated on the spot.
When the waiter arrived to take their order, Darcy asked for a good vintage Earth wine. The waiter told him he could no longer serve wines imported from Earth.
"But I was in here only last week, and I was served an Earth wine." To Susan, he said, "As Luna City's mayor, I shouldn't admit this, but it is much better than the wines produced here on Luna."
"I agree, Mr. Mayor," the waiter said, "but we can no longer get it. The ban on Earth wines came down from D. I. only three days ago."
Darcy frowned. "Very well," he said, but Susan could tell from the tone of his voice that it was not very well. "Bring a bottle of your best Luna City red."
The waiter nodded and left.
"What was that all about?" Susan asked.
"Hyatt's pushing for independence again."
"Can he do it this time?"
Darcy shrugged. "He has more of a following than he did last year at this time, thanks to completion of the solar power satellite. It makes us more self-sufficient than ever before."
Again something jarred in Susan's mind. The solar power satellite had been destroyed three months ago, yet Darcy acted as if that destruction had never occurred.
She said nothing. If he couldn't believe she remembered his brother alive and well only three weeks ago, he would never believe what she remembered about the satellite.
"This D. I. the waiter mentioned," she finally asked, "what is it?"
"Department of Insularity," Darcy said. "Hyatt possessed enough influence in Luna City politics last year to maneuver me into forming it. It's why you haven't seen any holo-phones here in Luna City. We stopped using them six months ago. Not only are they manufactured Earth-side, but they consume copious amounts of energy that can be better used to further our push for self-sufficiency. At any rate, that's the theory."
Susan had thought the lack of holo-phones was due to the power satellite's destruction. "There seems to be quite a bit going on here of which I wasn't aware," she said.
"Communications beamed Earth-side have been censored for the past six months. Right now, we still need General Fund money to keep going. And if nothing comes of all this-" He shrugged.
The waiter returned with the wine, and their conversation fell into a more casual track. The meal was good, and the companionship even better.
Still, Susan's mind mulled over what she had just learned. The solar power satellite had not been destroyed, as she remembered. And Hyatt's group was closer to independence than anyone on Earth might suspect.
She relaxed some at the ballet, for the first time in two days. It was just what she needed. She knew she was taking a chance being out-the latest attacker had proved he would strike in a crowd-but she would probably be no more safe in her quarters; the first assailant back on Fleet Base had used a spore-lock scrambler to get into her rooms.
And somewhere out in the crowd, unseen, Clayton watched.
She pushed those thoughts from her mind and sat back to enjoy the performance. She hadn't seen a low gravity ballet in almost ten years, and she had nearly forgotten just how much fun it could be. The dancers were considerably more acrobatic than their Earth-side counterparts, able to do things in Luna's one- sixth standard gravity only dreamed of by those on Earth.
But by the final curtain fear was again gnawing at the back of her mind. There was an assassin out there in the crowd, perhaps more than one, waiting for a chance to kill her. She was making it too easy by taking this night out; there was simply no way she could control the environment sufficiently. At least in her apartment she could exercise some control, and she trusted her own abilities far more than she did Clayton's.
Besides, with these two new bits of knowledge-that Sam Darcy was dead, and that the solar power satellite still hung in Clarke orbit above Luna City-she had enough to think about.
She had Darcy take her back to her quarters immediately following the performance.
Chapter Twelve
"I had a wonderful evening," she said as they approached the door to her quarters.
Darcy smiled. "Are you feeling better?"
"I'm fine," she lied.
He nodded. "I'll call tomorrow. Maybe we can have lunch."
"That does sound good." Susan turned to the door and it irised open. A Fleet uniform lay on the floor, caught in the light slicing into the dark room. Everything had been in order when she left with Darcy, all her clothing unpacked and hanging neatly in the closet.
She stepped away from the door and it irised closed.
"What's wrong?" Darcy asked. He took Susan by the shoulders and turned her toward him. "What is it?"
"Someone's been in my rooms?"
"Are you sure?"
"Yes," she said, then realized that her strange ability had not warned her.
They were silent for a few seconds. Finally, Darcy said, "We'll go in together. You know the room's layout-what side is the light switch on?"
"Left."
"When we enter, step to the left. Flatten yourself against the wall just out of the door's sensor range. I'll go to the right. Find the light switch. When the door closes, wait a few seconds, then turn the light on."
Susan nodded, took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. She would do her best to let him take charge; she had to maintain her cover. Besides, his plan was sound.
Turning from him, she stepped to the door. It irised open again, and she went in quickly and stepped to the left, flattening herself against the wall. Darcy entered immediately behind her and disappeared to the right.
The uniform lay two feet ahead and to her right. It looked like a handless, headless body laying face down on the carpet. Darkness cut it off just below the knees. Then the door closed and the room went dark.
Cautiously, Susan worked her way along the wall to the light switch. She reached out, felt it with the sensitive tips of her prosthetic fingers. After waiting a few seconds, she threw the switch.
The light came on, and she gasped. The closet stood open and empty, her clothing strewn everywhere. All the furniture was overturned. The bed's mattress had been slashed repeatedly, its stuffing scattered about the room. Even the contents of the small bathroom had been dragged out and dumped in the middle of the bedroom floor.
"What the hell happened here?" Darcy asked from the other side of the door.
Susan put a finger to her lips, then pointed to the bathroom. Although her ability had not warned her, whoever had ransacked the apartment might still be present. Darcy nodded and advanced cautiously toward the darkened room.
He disappeared into the bathroom, and a few seconds later its light came on. "No one," he said, re-entering the bedroom.
Stepping up to Susan, he took her by the shoulders and held her at arms length. "Now," he said, his voice suddenly stern, "tell me what's going on."
"If I told you, you wouldn't believe me," Susan said. "Besides, I can't."
Darcy frowned. "What do you mean, you can't? What are you involved in, Susan?"