He and Mouse pushed through the crowd and seized a pair of table seats. Mouse produced his portable chess set.
"I wish you'd wipe that smirk off your face. Makes you look like an idiot."
"I can't help it, Tommy. It's really funny, the way she zeroed in. Isn't she something?"
"No doubt about that. I'm wondering what."
"I couldn't decide if you were going to attack her right there or have a stroke. You can find out what, you know. She told you who she was and where to find her. Now it's your move."
Science team people began descending to the planet next working day. The afternoon of the same day witnessed the arrival aboard of a company of stone-faced Seiner dignitaries. Mouse and McClennon were assigned to make them welcome. Amy turned out to help.
Mouse asked, "What's that you're wearing?"
"My dress uniform."
"What dress uniform?"
"My police uniform. Your Admiral had it flown over during the night."
McClennon observed, "I didn't know you had one. I've known you a year and a half and never saw you wear it."
"That's where we went wrong, Moyshe. We spent all that time hiding."
He expected a difficult, delicate afternoon. He did not argue. "You may be right." He scanned a list on a clipboard. "How many of these people do you know?"
She scanned it too. "Only a few, by reputation. Gruber. Payne. They're all Fleet and Ship's Commanders."
Over a hundred names were on the list. "Mouse, we can't give them all honors." He glanced at the sideboys waiting to pipe the visitors aboard.
"No shit. It'd be tomorrow before we finished."
Amy had seen enough of the back and forth of senior Navy officers to know what they were talking about. "Don't bother," she suggested. "We don't do that kind of thing. They wouldn't know what it was. Just be polite."
Mouse went to talk it over with the chief petty officer in charge of the sideboys. McClennon stood with Amy, studying his list in order to avoid eye contact.
"You look good in that uniform," she said softly. "All those medals... "
"Beckhart likes to hand them out."
"You'll get another for this business?"
"Probably."
"Moyshe... Something I should tell you. When I said we were hiding from each other... I was hiding from you. And fooling myself. The reason I was so eager to throw a net on you... "
He glanced at her. She was showing a lot of color. "Yes?"
"It's embarrassing. I don't like myself very much when I think about it."
"Well? I don't like the things I've done, either."
"I was the Ship's Commander's special agent. I was supposed to keep an eye on you and report to him. Because he wanted to make you into the head of a Starfisher secret service. That meant you were going to be important. I wasn't important. I wasn't ever going to be. The only way I could have gone any higher was if Jarl died or left Danion."
McClennon saw what she was trying to say. "It's all right. I understand. And now I know why you did so many things I thought were strange."
"Moyshe... "
"Forget it. We've got pain enough. Don't drag up any old stuff."
A red light came on over the lock housing. The ship-wide address system announced the arrival of the visitors' shuttle. It admonished all hands to remain courteous and helpful in every circumstance. The lock cycled. A great burly bear of a man stepped inside. He looked around as if expecting to be assaulted by the legions of the damned.
"Gruber," Amy whispered.
"Get him, Mouse," Thomas said.
"Me?"
"You got more balls and more suave than me." Mouse introduced himself as Captain Storm of Admiral Beckhart's staff. He introduced Thomas and Amy, then asked the Fishers to follow them.
The sideboys stood at superb, perfectly matched attention while the Seiners disembarked.
The Marine sentries at the wardroom door were military perfectionists too. They snapped to present arms. Admiral Beckhart was waiting inside. He wasted little time introducing himself, or excusing himself for having assembled them virtually at gunpoint. He presented the Ulantonid tapes. While they ran, Mouse and McClennon passed out copies of the known data on the centerward threat. Amy distributed copies of the tapes. The lights came up. Beckhart said, "Gentlemen, you've just seen the reason for our unfriendly behavior. I'll now answer any questions. Doctor Chancellor, Captain McClennon, Captain Storm, and your own Lieutenant Coleridge will also speak with anyone who likes."
McClennon was amazed by the reserve of the Seiner leaders. Even the worst tape scenes cause no stir. They remained obstinately uncommunicative.
Danion's Ship Commander isolated Amy. They fell into heated discussion. The others asked only a few questions while Amy's interrogator worked, then conferred with Payne and Gruber.
The Fishers ignored Storm and McClennon completely.
Replying to a Gruber query, Beckhart said, "We'll be completely open with the available data. In accordance with High Command directives, you've received copies of almost everything. The centerward race threatens all of us."
McClennon told Mouse, "Ever notice the Old Man's split personality? He's three different people, depending on who he's talking to."
Mouse smiled. "We all are. More than three, usually. He's just obvious."
"Think they're buying it?"
"Payne's people are. Most of the others aren't, Gruber looks like he'll give us the benefit of the doubt." He picked lint off his dress black tunic. "We're victims of our reputation. They can't believe we're being straight."
Gruber proved willing to listen. That willingness extended the session for hours. Stewards came in, set up tables, served a meal.
Gruber finally seemed satisfied. His sub-chieftains began filing out, following Mouse to the lock.
Amy walked with McClennon. Starting at the desk, she said, "I'm going back to Danion now."
"Okay."
"Moyshe... I'm sorry."
"I am too, Amy. About everything. I never wanted to hurt you."
"Stay happy, Moyshe."
"You too."
She was the last Seiner into the lock. Mouse turned to McClennon. Thomas nodded.
Mouse ordered the lock cycled.
"Think it went over?" McClennon asked.
"I don't know, Tommy. I don't... Tommy? What's the matter? Chief, help me here. Stretcher. Somebody get a stretcher."
The episode was McClennon's worst yet. It took the Psych team three days to bring him out.
It had surprised him completely.
Twenty-three: 3050 AD
The Main Sequence
"I don't think you should go, Thomas," the Admiral said. "Let Mouse handle it. Suppose you had one of your attacks?"
"I'll be all right. Look. Ask Lieutenant Corley. She says it'll take a week to reach another crisis point."
"Mouse?"
"Somebody has to look over their shoulders, right? Otherwise we won't know if they're getting anywhere. That's just the way those people are. They're not going to say anything till they're sure nobody can shoot them down. Scientists would rather be dragged through the streets naked than be wrong. If Tommy goes, we'll have twice as many eyes."
"All right. Thomas, you know the woman who heads the Seiner team. Talk to her. Take a recorder. I want to hear what she says."
Twelve hours later McClennon and Storm, accompanied by a pair of Marine sergeants, entered the cold metal halls of Stars' End. The dock ring of their landing bay was a good twenty kilometers below the featureless planetary surface. The plunge down the long, dark shaft had been harrowing. Mouse had lost his supper.
The Marines began horsing an electric truck off the shuttle.
Mouse walked along a steel passageway, away from the dock ring. He peered into what had to have been Ground Control in an age gone by. "Tommy, come take a look in here."