We started making our way out of the area when I heard someone sobbing. The sounds came from the crowd directly ahead. They were gathered around a boarding tube. We saw a few men and women and a lot of kids, and everybody was hugging everybody else. A couple of operational people were trying to move them up the tube. Move the kids up the tube. I asked a bystander what was going on. "It's part of the evacuation program," she said. "They're taking the kids to Sanctum." "Parents stay here?" I asked. "Pretty much. Two or three mothers go along, depending on the capacity of the ship." Some of the younger children were trying to hang on to the adults. They had to be pried loose. We listened to promises about how Mommy and Daddy will see you soon, go along with the nice lady, Jan, and everything will be fine. Some of them descended into hysterics. The struggle was still going on as we left the area. "What do we do about Wexler?" I asked, grateful to be able to change our focus. "There's a security office down on the lower level." "Not a good idea." "Why not?" "If he's watching us, and I'd be surprised if he isn't, he'll see us go in. If that happens, we'll lose our advantage." "Which is what?" "He doesn't know we've been warned. We should let the security office know, but do it by link." "Okay." "Try to look happy, Chase." I smiled and started whistling. "Happy," he said. "Not goofy." "Right. What else do we do?" "Where's the restaurant?" "Sandstone's is just up ahead." "Okay. Let's go in. We'll do it from there." "Wouldn't it be a better idea just to get on the shuttle and get away from here?" "We're going to have to deal with him at some point. Once we start running, we'll be doing it
permanently." "Okay. But I'm not sure it's a good idea to sit in Sandstone's, where he can get a clean shot at us. Why not at least get out of sight?" "Wexler's a survivor. He'll want to take us down, then have time to take the shuttle groundside. That means he'll try to get to us in a private place." It made sense. "You think Krestoff is with him?" I was looking around, trying to do it surreptitiously. Not easy. "We better assume she is." We went into Sandstone's and got a table back in the corner, away from the windows. No booth, because we might need to move quickly. "You still have the scrambler, Chase?" he asked. It was in the utility bag slung over one shoulder. "All right. Let's get a reservation at the hotel." "We'll have to use our real names." The secondary account had lapsed. "That's okay. Maybe it's just as well to make it easy for the lunatics to find us." He braced his chin on one hand while he considered the problem. I called the hotel. They had a suite available. "No," said Alex. "Two rooms." He ordered drinks. Then he called the security office. He identified himself and told them there were two wanted criminals running loose on the station. "And who are these criminals?" asked a female voice. Its owner sounded skeptical. "Mikel Wexler." He spelled it for her. "And Maria Krestoff."
"Okay. How do you know they're on the station?"
"I saw them."
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
"All right. One moment, please."
The restaurant was about half-full. But I saw no familiar faces either inside or out in the concourse.
"Ah, yes. Here's Wexler. Hmmm. Okay, Mr. Benedict. You have a personal acquaintance with these people, do you?"
"Yes."
"With both of them?"
"That's correct."
"Very good. Are you staying on the station?"
"Yes."
"You're at the hotel?"
"That's correct."
"All right, thank you. We'll keep an eye out. And we'll be in touch."
We sat looking at each other. "What do you think?" I said. "Well, they'll arrest them if they happen to run into them." While we tried our drinks and contemplated ordering some real food, I let the service people know that we'd changed our plans and they should route our bags to the hotel.
An hour or so later we strolled into the lobby. This was the point at which my nerves began to work on me. They'd put us on the fourth floor and I remember half-expecting to find Wexler waiting inside the elevator, or around the corner, as we headed for our rooms. I dug the scrambler out in the hallway. We checked my room. With weapon drawn. We were not going to underestimate the good doctor. When we were satisfied, I put my bags away, turned on the HV, and left the lights on. Tried to make it look as if I was in. Then we went through a similar procedure in Alex's room. If it seems that we were overreacting, please keep in mind that we'd been through a lot. Anyhow, Alex said he had no doubt we'd have visitors within the next few hours.
He said hello to the AI, whose name was Aia. She had a soft female voice. "Aia," he said, "can you do an impersonation of Administrator Kilgore?" "You mean," she said, "can I reproduce his voice?" "Yes." "Of course." She gave us a sample, claiming that liberty was a boon to all persons everywhere. She delivered it in his rich deep baritone. "Good," said Alex. "Perfect. I'm going to want you to do something for me."
"If it is within my capacity, sir."
The rooms were smaller than those you'd get in a hotel of a similar class groundside. But they were as attractive. Everything was done in silk and lavender. We even had a balcony overlooking the concourse. Above us, the overhead was transparent and provided a spectacular view of the outside. At the moment, we were looking out at the rim of the world, illuminated by a setting-or rising-sun. I wasn't sure which. I walked out through a glass door and inspected it. The balconies were connected by a narrow ledge. I looked at it for a long time and decided even Krestoff would not have been able to negotiate it. I went back inside, closed the glass door, and drew the curtains. We talked for a while. Watched a report on the evacuation. Everybody was excited by the help coming in from the Confederacy and the Assemblage. The shield barely made an appearance in the conversations, other than as an example of the desperation of world leaders. "It was never plausible, Jay," said one commentator. "They'd have had to pull the entire evacuation fleet to work on it, with next to no chance of success. I think the route they've chosen, moving as many people off-world as they can, and concentrating on building shelters, is the way to go."
We didn't talk much, and when we did, we kept our voices down. We did not want anyone outside the door to realize there was a second person in the room. We didn't really expect to fool Wexler, but it could do no harm. I eventually drifted off to sleep in my chair. When I woke, Alex pointed out that it was early morning on the station, but we were in dinner mode. "Sure," I said. He picked up the hotel guide. "Maybe we should have it sent up." "Why? I thought we decided we were safer in public places." "We have to go out in the corridor and take the elevator. If they're going to try anything, I want them to have to come to us." "Okay." "And we might try just ordering one dinner. Mine." "Because I'm in my room." "Good. Yes." He called down. Ordered the special, with a glass of white wine, and a cinnamon bun. We waited, heard the sound of the elevator, heard footsteps in the hall. Then a door opened somewhere, and everything was quiet again. We went through another false alarm before finally getting a gentle tap at the door. Alex signaled me to move to the bathroom. When I was out of sight, he opened the door. "Good evening, sir." The voice was not Wexler's. Alex moved back out of the way. An attendant carried a tray and a small bottle of wine into the room. He left the door ajar behind him, and I angled myself to watch. He set the tray on the coffee table, opened the wine bottle, and produced a glass, which he filled. He set down a cloth napkin and the silverware. Alex tipped him, he said thank you, and was gone, closing the door behind him. Alex sat down in front of it. "Well," he said, "that didn't work." "No, it didn't." He looked down at the dinner. Steaming fish, a vegetable, and toast. "I'll split it with you." "Or perhaps with me ." The voice came from the far end of the room. Krestoff.