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"Well," he said briskly, "Now we know. That brawl was a setup. Three men pushed your man into a brawl, and as soon as it got well started, they dragged him into the alley, where they beat him. Then they threw him back inside, so that it would appear that he was hurt in the brawl. It was very professional," he added.

"Obviously, the terrorists knew about your trip, and that you would be asked to bring back contraband. They were arranging for you to need another crewman for the trip. I don't know that they wanted to kill him, but professional thugs like those are well aware that dead witnesses don't testify."

Jirik was fuming. "So, it was because of this damned deal! I wish I'd followed my first impulse and thrown you the hell out of my office that first day! I knew that getting involved in a damned spy caper was a mistake!"

"Stop it!" Tomys commanded coldly. "I don't give a damn about your sensitive feelings. I've got a threat to the entire Alliance to worry about!" Jirik opened his mouth to reply, but Tomys bulled on. "Now, stop feeling sorry for yourself, and let's get to work on where we go from here."

Jirik's fury showed in his red face as well as his tone. "You bastard. You think that you can use us up like power packs for a blaster, don't you? Well, I've got news for you. We're people, damn it! I ought to just go to the local Newsfax syndicate office, and tell them the whole damned story. The terrorists would back off, you'd have to leave us alone or blow your cover, and maybe even the bookchip deal would get canceled. We'd be out of it, and on our way back to our home sector!"

Tomys' face had hardened, and his tone was cold. "Really Captain? I think that you're forgetting a few details." He ticked them off on his fingers. "One, you're short a crewman. Boondock won't clear you for liftoff without an astrogator. Two, any astrogator you get may turn out to be a terrorist out for revenge for spoiling their plans. Three, Do you really think that Fanlin would cancel the bookchip deal? I don't. And Four," His tone suddenly turned vicious. "Four, if you mess up my mission, I'll see to it that you and your crew are charged with sedition, if not treason, and spend the rest of your lives on a prison planet! I suggest that you reconsider your position."

The bald threat in Tomys' quiet words was like a splash of cold water on Jirik's face. His fury evaporated instantly, to be replaced with cautious calm. He was becoming wary of Tomys' ability to move instantly from friendly cameraderie to cold threat. He realized that this ability was used to keep him off balance, and that it was working well. He was being manipulated by a master.

His only effective defense was going to be to keep a tight rein on his admittedly explosive temper. Jirik was unhappily aware that he had reached that conclusion before, and been unable to act on it. For the millionth time, he wished that he possessed Bran's unshakeable calm and coldly analytical abilities.

"All right," he conceded grudgingly, "What happens now?"

"For one thing," Tomys replied, "you can expect to be interviewing a terrorist applying for Willem's job. For appearance's sake, you should contact the Spaceer's Guild office for an astrogator. Since you're loaded and ready for lift off, you will, of course, emphasize the immediacy of your need. You can rest assured that the terrorists have someone standing by waiting for you to request a replacement. Depending upon how fully the terrorists have infiltrated the Guild office, you may have one or two legitimate applicants, as well."

Jirik's tone was worried. "But how will I recognize the terrorist? I sure as hell don't want a fanatic for an astrogator on a haul like this!"

Tomys shrugged. "You won't, of course. If he were an obvious spy, they wouldn't send him. No, whoever they send will be a skilled astrogator, with impressive credentials. He'll talk as though he wasn't interested in politics, and he'll probably have a damned good reason for wanting to get to the Empire."

Jirik was really concerned now. "So, what do I do?"

Tomys shrugged. "There's not much you can do. Just pick the best applicant, if you have a choice, and assume that he's a spy. That means that you'll have to watch what you say, even when you're alone with another crew member. He'll probably bug as much of the ship as he can. Be very careful to act normally throughout the trip. It's not going to be a comfortable trip, or an enjoyable one. You won't be able to relax until you get back here and get your man back, assuming that he's alive and recovered by then."

Jirik smiled sardonically. "You wouldn't believe how much I wish I'd never come to the rim, or met you! Okay, now what do I do about this smuggling business?"

"Yes, the software and design specs," Tomys said slowly, obviously thinking hard. "Well, we can't send a message, since the fastest means of communication is by ship." He straightened, obviously having reached a decision.

"All right, here's what we'll do. I've got a small courier ship standing by. I'll leave at once for Alpha. Since I can go direct, and you'll have to detour to avoid pirates and hijackers, I'll be there before you. I'll arrange for the battle comp software and weapon design specs, suitably modified, of course, on the assumption that the terrorists won't have a specific contact in Alpha's black market."

Jirik smiled sardonically. "Yeah? And what if they do have a specific contact on Alpha? If so, that spy will be following me around every step of the way."

Tomys looked smug. "I was just coming to that. Here." He gave Jirik a heavy gold ring with a deeply incised design. "This is a communicator, Intelligence issue. As soon as you've been contacted by the terrorists and made the arrangements, call me and brief me. I'll give you your instructions at that time. Right now, you're the best chance we've had of breaking up this terrorist plot, so you'll practically have my undivided attention."

"Lucky me!" Jirik replied sarcastically, slipping the ring on his finger. "It looks like I'm going to be a busy boy tomorrow . . . er . . . this morning, I guess, now. I've got to call the Guild for an astrogator, talk to this terrorist about smuggling, then interview applicants, one of whom is certain to be terrorist spy. Then, I have to call you, brief you and get my instructions, and then schedule a new lift-off time for as soon as possible. At least I won't have to worry about getting bored!"

Tomys smiled. "I suspect that boredom will be the least of your problems until you get back."

"Right." Jirik replied. "How do you want me to handle this smuggling proposition? Should I try to look as if smuggling is routine for me? or should I admit that I haven't done any for a long, long time? And if I admit that, how reluctant should I be.? Should I be easy or hard to convince?"

"Why, Captain!" Tomys teased, "Surely an honest, hard-working spacer like yourself would have little or no experience with smuggling! Why, I'm sure that a sturdy independent trader like you would have such scruples as would take a large amount of credits to overcome!" His tone turned serious. "I'd say that that would be the way to handle it, Captain. But, you've already talked to this man about it. How did you handle it then?"

"Well," Jirik replied, "I was reluctant to consider it. I wasn't shocked, since any spacer captain with more than a few years' experience has been approached at least once to smuggle something. Basically, I said 'no', and then let him convince me to consider it. I finally told him I'd have to think about it, and discuss it with my crew. I didn't let him get too specific about the merchandise or talk credits, although I did leave him with the impression that it might be expensive."

"Good!" Tomys enthused. "See, Captain, you're better at this 'spook stuff' than you thought! I suggest that you continue on the same course; the reluctant smuggler. Make the price high. With the bookchip deal pending, you're not desperate for funds. You've already got a million-credit deal, and the terrorists know it. They won't expect you to go for it easily. They also know that they can't appeal to your politics, so they'll have to put up large numbers of credits. Drive the price high, then try for the money up front, and let them talk you down to half down, half on delivery. Be tough. They need something from you; You don't need anything from them!"