Judgment at Proteus

TWELVE

The corridors were quiet as Doug and I headed back toward the medical dome. Not just quiet, in fact, but completely deserted. I wondered about that until a check of my watch reminded me that it was the Proteus dinner hour, which probably explained why no one was out and about. It also explained why my stomach was growling.

Which was fine with me. The quiet was conducive to thought, and between Yleli’s murder, Terese’s disappearance, and Blue One’s defiant stubbornness I had a lot to think about.

I had reached the traffic corridor and was working my way leftward across the glideway’s variable-speed fluid toward the fast track when Doug, who had decided to walk in front of me for once, suddenly turned his head and looked behind us.

An unpleasant tingle ran up my back. The last time Doug had reacted like that, it had been because a pair of Fillies were doing their best to sneak up on me. It seemed reasonable to assume that the same watchdog behavior might portend the same type of attack.

I’d been expecting some kind of Shonkla-raa reaction to Blue One’s disappearance. This could be it.

Mirrored walls would have been handy, but Proteus’s interior decorator had unfortunately missed out on that one. I continued toward the fast track as if nothing was happening, keeping my eyes forward, feeling my back muscles tightening in anticipation of a hand, a fist, or a knife. Blue One had said that I was worth more alive than dead, but I hadn’t believed him then and I certainly wasn’t going to count on it now.

We were one step away from the fast edge when I made my move. Before Doug could shift over onto the fast track I stepped onto it myself, ran three quick steps forward to pass him, and finally stopped and allowed him to move over behind me.

And with my watchdog now between me and whatever was back there, I finally turned around.

He was striding silently toward me along the fast track, his oversized throat bulging through the neck of his tunic, his hands stiffened into Shonkla-raa knives, an unholy glitter of anticipation in his eye. A flicker of something crossed his face as I turned to face him—surprise or disappointment, I couldn’t tell which—but he didn’t even break stride.

“Hello, there,” I called pleasantly to him. “I’m new in town. Can you recommend a good restaurant?”

He didn’t answer, but merely continued walking toward me. I watched his face, and as he approached Doug I saw his dilemma suddenly dawn on him.

He couldn’t simply step around Doug to come at me, because moving to his right would put him in a slower section of the glideway, requiring him to break into a jog just to stay even or an actual run if he wanted to catch up with me. I had no doubt he could do either, but having to run to catch up to an opponent who was standing still put an attacker at a definite disadvantage. He could look as eager as he wanted to about the upcoming fight, but he had to be thinking at least a little about the fact that Blue One had also been sent to take me down and hadn’t been heard from since.

Which really left him only two options. He could pick up Doug and physically move him out of his way, which would leave him even more vulnerable during the brief period when his hands were occupied, or he could do what Blue One had done outside Yleli’s apartment and simply jump over the animal.

It took him maybe half a second to run through the analysis and come to a decision, and as he stepped up to Doug’s tail he bent his knees and leaped.

Unfortunately for him, I’d already done the analysis myself and had planned my response. Even as he arced over Doug’s back, I threw myself to the side onto the mid-speed section of the glideway.

I hit the fluid with a thud and a brief skid as the glideway damped out the extra inertia I’d brought with me from the fast track. My shoulder had barely slowed to that speed when the faster track at my feet grabbed my legs and spun me ninety degrees around, leaving me lined up along the section that my shoulder had landed on, feet forward with my head to the rear. Rolling onto my back, I shoved awkwardly against the different-speed tracks on either side of me and pushed myself back to vertical.

In an ideal world, my maneuver would have taken the Shonkla-raa completely by surprise, and he would still be standing on the fast track where his leap had put him, gazing stupidly back at me as he and Doug faded off into the sunset. But it wasn’t an ideal world, and the Shonkla-raa was anything but stupid. By the time I was back on my feet he had already picked his way across the glideway to the slower track just to my right and was waiting there patiently for me to catch up to him again.

And suddenly I was in a dilemma of my own. Staying where I was would bring me within range of those hands in probably twenty seconds or less. I could try going to my right, passing his track and getting onto an even slower section of the glideway. But he could easily match that maneuver, which meant all I would accomplish would be to delay the inevitable.

Which left me just one other choice. Stepping to my left, I headed back toward the fast track, moving as quickly as I could without losing my balance. If I could get to the higher speed faster than he could, I might be able to bypass him while he was still out of striking distance.

But again he’d already duplicated my analysis and conclusion. Even as I made my move he was matching it, step for step, making sure he stayed just to my slow side where the glideway would bring me straight to him. I tried reversing direction, hoping to buy myself a little time. But again, he was right on top of it, easily matching my every move.

Behind him, I caught sight of Doug working his four-footed way across the glideway onto the slower tracks, for once sensing trouble before it actually happened. If I didn’t do something fast I would probably end up fighting both him and the Shonkla-raa at the same time.

I waited until I was almost within the Shonkla-raa’s reach. Then, shoving off the glideway, I again threw myself onto my side to my right, trying to get as far into the glideway’s slow section as I could. The Filly was right on top of it, making an easy leap the same distance and landing directly in front of the spot where my shoulder landed.

Only I had thrown myself onto my side, whereas he’d chosen to remain vertical, which meant that his feet were suddenly going a slower speed than the rest of his body. He staggered violently as Newton’s Laws kicked in, and he was forced to throw one foot behind him to keep himself from falling flat onto his back. He won the battle with momentum and straightened up again—

Just as my legs, again caught by the glideway’s speed gradient, swung around in a ninety-degree arc and kicked his feet completely out from under him.

He went down with a bellow, slamming onto the glideway and scrambling for purchase even as the same forces that had spun my legs into him now also turned him around. I didn’t wait to see how he handled his predicament, but began rolling sideways as quickly as I could toward the slow edge. If I could get to the unmoving part of the corridor, cross it, and make it onto the glideway going the other direction, I might be able to put enough distance between us to escape.

I reached the edge of the glideway and rolled onto solid ground. Giving myself one final half-roll onto my stomach, I started to push myself back to my feet.

Only to slam flat onto the deck again as Doug leaped onto my back, growling straight into my ear.

I don’t know much more of a reprimand for my uncivil behavior the watchdog had planned to deliver once he had me down. But whatever it was, it was instantly preempted as his growl turned into a startled yip and he toppled sideways off me, a trio of bright red balls tied together by red cords suddenly appearing across his side, belly, and back.

I leaped to my feet, catching sight of a second Filly as he shot past on the fast edge of the glideway, and ducked as a second spinning flash of red shot just over my head. It was some kind of bola weapon, I saw now, with the added bonus of an adhesive to make sure that once the target was down he stayed that way. The newcomer was already heading away toward the slow edge of the glideway, gazing balefully back at me as he readied a third bola. Farther ahead down the corridor, I could see that my first opponent was back on his feet and also moving toward the slow edge.

So now it was two against one. And with Doug tangled up in his bola, he wasn’t going to be available for me to use as a shield or throwing weapon unless I picked him up and carried him with me.

And then I caught sight of a figure approaching on the other glideway. He was too far away for me to tell whether he had a Shonkla-raa throat, but from his stiff posture and air of alertness I suspected he wasn’t just some random citizen returning from dinner.

Suddenly, it wasn’t two against one, but three.

And now I was well and truly trapped. If I did nothing, the third Filly would shoot past me, step onto the unmoving part of the corridor, and I would be bracketed. If I ran, no matter which glideway I chose, there would be an opponent on my tail within seconds.

Better to make a bad choice, I decided, than to lose by default. Clenching my teeth, I stepped back onto my original glideway and headed as quickly as I could toward the fast edge. So far only one of the Shonkla-raa had demonstrated he was carrying any weapons, and I would rather be facing him when he threw his next bola than have my back to him.

But once again, the Shonkla-raa had thought things through. The one with the bolas had already stopped moving toward the corridor; but instead of attempting to close the distance to me he was merely standing there on his section of glideway, waiting for me to pass him by on my faster section.

At which point, I realized, I would be only about half a glideway’s width away from him. Even with the speed differential, I would be pretty damn impossible to miss.

But there was nothing I could do, nowhere I could go. I crouched down, making myself as small a target as I could, angling my arms into defensive combat positions in front of me. If I could catch the bola on my arms and torso and keep it away from my legs I would at least still have the theoretical option of running. I swept to and past him, and he raised the bola to throw.

And abruptly jolted forward as something slammed hard into his back. Even as he tried to regain his balance, a second object slammed into him, jarring the bola loose from his hand and sending him flailing forward to crash face-first onto the glideway.

I looked across at the other glideway. While my full attention had been on the Shonkla-raa with the bola, the Filly approaching from the other direction had closed the distance between us and stepped off onto the corridor floor.

Only it wasn’t a third Shonkla-raa, as I’d thought.

It was Emikai.

Even as my brain registered that fact, he swiveled around, brought the gun in his hand to bear on the remaining Shonkla-raa, and fired.

But his target was already in motion, diving toward the glideway’s fast end and taking Emikai’s pancake-sized projectile in a glancing blow off his shoulder instead of getting it full-force against his torso. The pancake ricocheted off the wall, did another bounce off the ceiling, and went wobbling off somewhere behind me. The Shonkla-raa himself hit the glideway chest-first, lay there just long enough for the speed gradient to spin him around and align him along the glideway the way it had already done twice to me, then rolled his way quickly over to the fast track. The other Filly, the one Emikai had first shot, had also managed to get himself to the same part of the glideway and was following his comrade as fast as it could take him.

“Compton!” Emikai called. “Let them go.”

I didn’t need any persuasion. I crossed the glideway, watching as the two prone Fillies disappeared off into the distance, and stepped off.

Emikai hurried up beside me. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” I assured him. “Thanks for the assist.” I looked down at the weapon in his hand, short-barreled but with a long grip and an extended magazine. “Nice toy. What does it fire?”

“They are called expanders,” he said. “Expanding impact disks, non-lethal but with a high degree of stopping power.”

“A beanbag gun,” I said, nodding. “We use them sometimes in the Confederation. I usually prefer snoozers—you can get a higher magazine count with them. But of course they don’t have any stopping power to speak of. I don’t suppose there’s any chance I can persuade Captain Lyarrom to issue me one?”

“I doubt it,” Emikai said. “I only have one myself because I have been temporarily reinstated as an enforcement officer aboard Kuzyatru Station.”

I felt my eyebrows creeping up my forehead. “Congratulations,” I said. “Someone recognized your skill and merit?”

“Someone recognized the anomalies in the evacuation drill coverage,” Emikai corrected, his voice going grim. “This has them seriously concerned.”

“No doubt,” I agreed, wondering what the hell he was talking about. “Am I supposed to know what that means?”

“Exactly my point.” Emikai looked over his shoulder. “But come—I believe your msikai-dorosli is going to need our assistance.”

I’d almost forgotten about Doug. I turned to see him limping toward us on three legs, his fourth partially tied to his belly by the balls and cords still glued to him. “So he is,” I agreed, starting toward him. “Tell me about this evacuation drill.”

“They are safety drills that are scheduled at irregular intervals, each usually involving a single sector or subsector,” Emikai explained as he fell into step beside me. “They are supposed to be announced in every public area within the drill region, with a duplicate message sent to each comm within the area.”

“Which area was involved?”

“Subsector 25-F-4, extending from the medical dome outward to the edge of the sector and for five corridors to either side of this one.” He looked at me. “The area we are currently in.”

I stared at him, a creepy feeling running through me. “My comm never went off,” I said. “Neither did Minnario’s.”

“Nor was it announced in this corridor,” Emikai said, his voice and blaze going dark. “Or in the side corridor leading to Attorney Minnario’s quarters. That was the discovery that led me to request a weapon and come looking for you.”

“I’m very glad you did, too,” I said. “How many comms besides Minnario’s and mine were left out of the general announcement?”

Emikai sighed. “As best as could be established, none.”

No wonder I’d had the whole place to myself. “Cute. Seems a little like overkill, but still cute. Any idea how they pulled it off?”

“We know some of it,” Emikai said. “The order for such drills comes from the office of the sector overseer. This one seemed to follow the proper protocol, which is why it was passed and activated.”

“So they know how it’s supposed to be done,” I concluded. “That tells us they’re either highly placed locals, or else have a connection to highly placed locals. What gave away the show?”

“As it happened, I was working a deep-level analysis at the time and my search picked up an anomaly,” Emikai said. “I investigated, and discovered that instead of originating in the overseer’s office, the message had merely been echoed from that site.” He looked sideways at me. “It had originated from the computer in the late Tech Yleli’s apartment.”

“So they have a computer whiz on their team,” I said thoughtfully. “Bayta told me earlier that the station computer hadn’t been able to identify our friend Blue One. Now we know why. Either somebody slipped him into the station without the computer noticing, or else scrubbed him out once he was in.”

“An unpleasant and ominous ability, indeed,” Emikai mused.

“Yeah,” I grunted. “Tell me about it.”

We reached Doug and crouched down beside him. “What are these things, anyway?” I asked as I gave one of the red balls an experimental tug. It seemed to be glued solidly to both his feathery belly fur and his pineapple back. “I’d think something like this wouldn’t be welcome here.”

“The kristic is a weapon for hunting small game,” Emikai said. “Upon sharp impact the balls secrete a strong adhesive through micropores. And they are most definitely not welcome aboard. They are forbidden, in fact.”

“So whoever it is who sneaks people aboard Proteus also likes playing with cargo manifests,” I said. “Is there any way to get the things off him?”

“The security nexus will have a solvent,” Emikai said, pulling out his multitool and popping out a knife blade. “Cutting the cords should enable him to walk properly.”

“Good idea,” I said. “I’d rather not have to carry him.”

“Yes.” Emikai set to work cutting through the cords. “I have a question. One which you may not like.”

“I get those all the time,” I assured him. “Go ahead.”

“How well do you truly know your assistant Bayta?”

“Extremely well,” I said, frowning. “Why?”

“I told you I was working on a deep-level analysis when the drill order came through,” he said. “I was attempting to backtrack the message you told me appeared on your computer, the one that instructed you to go to the dome just prior to Tech Yleli’s murder.”

“What did you find?”

“That there is no record of you having received any such message,” he said. “Not through the Kuzyatru Station system, or from any computer aboard.”

“Which just means our friends are better at this stuff than I thought.”

“That is one possibility.” Emikai cut through one of the cords and started working on the next one. “There is another.”

“That I’m lying?”

“That the message did not travel through the system because it originated on your computer.”

I snorted. “Right,” I said. “Doug sent it. Or maybe Ty—he’s the more literary of the two.”

“Or Bayta did.”

I shook my head. “Not a chance.”

“Are you sure?”

I opened my mouth to tell him that of course I was.

Only I wasn’t. There was no way I could be. Not with all the battles and other contact we’d had with the Modhri since this whole thing began. Certainly not with him lurking somewhere aboard Proteus. There was always the possibility, however small, that he’d gotten to her.

Or that he’d gotten to me.

And if there was a Modhran colony inside me, then it was all over. Any thought I had, any conclusion I came to, any plan I hatched—I would never know whether any of it was truly real, or pure illusion. I would be nothing but a puppet dancing on the Modhri’s strings, carefully and cleverly rationalizing every order he gave me, no better than any of his thousands or millions of other walkers.

No better, and a whole lot worse. Because unlike all those other walkers, I was in a position of authority and power unlike anything the Modhri had ever had before. I was in contact with Bayta, agent of the Chahwyn, and through her with the Spiders and the Chahwyn themselves. My words and actions could fatally affect the Chahwyn efforts against not only the Modhri but also his Shonkla-raa masters. Like it or not, I was a pivot point around which the fate of the galaxy teetered.

And then, the dry ice that had formed in my veins turned to liquid nitrogen. Because there was another, even more horrifying possibility.

What if the Modhri wasn’t involved in this at all? What if it was Bayta’s other half, the Chahwyn symbiotically encased within her? What if the defender Spiders aboard the super-express had reported back on my flagrant breaking of Quadrail rules, and the Chahwyn had decided I’d become a loose cannon that needed to be dealt with? What if they’d decided it was time that they took over the operation personally?

What if they’d decided to start with Bayta?

I looked sideways at Emikai’s profile. The Modhri, I knew, could take direct control over his walkers’ bodies without their permission or knowledge. Could the Chahwyn inside Bayta do the same?

Or was such a thing even possible? The way Bayta described it, her Human and Chahwyn halves were in close, permanent, conscious contact. But now that I thought about it, I realized that my understanding of their relationship was built mostly on my own assumptions.

I shook my head, a short, violent, brain-clearing movement. No. Bayta was my ally, and my friend. She wouldn’t betray me that way. Not unless she herself had also been betrayed.

Meanwhile, Emikai was still waiting for an answer. “No,” I said as firmly as I could. “She’d never do something like that.”

Emikai tilted his head slightly. “I know you would prefer to think not.”

“It’s not a preference, it’s simple logic,” I insisted. “What reason could she possibly have had to do that? To give me a reason to go over to the dome in the middle of the night? Ridiculous. I’m not a prisoner—I don’t need an excuse or reason to leave my quarters.”

“I make no suggestion as to reasons or motivations.” Emikai nodded at Doug. “But do you not also find it curious that one of the two msikai-dorosli assigned to you by Chinzro Hchchu has chosen to remain instead with Bayta?”

I grimaced. So Emikai had picked up on that, too. And if he had, had Hchchu or the Shonkla-raa? If so, what had they made of it? “What makes you think Hchchu didn’t assign us one each?” I countered.

“Did he?”

“I’m actually not sure,” I said. “I was concentrating on other things at the time and wasn’t paying attention to the nuances of his words. Even though I’m the one under indictment, maybe he figured we both needed watching.”

“Perhaps,” Emikai said. “But surely you noticed that both msikai-dorosli stayed close to your side during the preliminary hearing, when Chinzro Hchchu was present. Clearly, they understood that they were both supposed to watch you.”

“Yes, I noticed that,” I conceded. “I assumed it was just the grandeur of the setting and circumstances that had them both sticking with me at the time.”

“Perhaps,” Emikai said. “But turn that thought around. Perhaps it is at other times, not in Chinzro Hchchu’s presence, that they sense your companion needs to be watched.”

“Even if they were ordered to do something else?”

He shrugged. “It is known that the lower animals sometimes have senses and instincts beyond those of us who are fully sentient. Those senses can allow them to perceive and understand things we ourselves cannot.”

Like when Bayta stopped being Bayta and became a Modhri? Or a Chahwyn? “I’ll think about it,” I said. “You about done there?”

The last cord snapped. “Yes,” Emikai said, putting away the multitool. “Do we go to the nexus?”

“Yes,” I said, straightening up and looking around the deserted corridor. Round two was over. I wondered what the Shonkla-raa had in mind for round three. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

* * *

I called Bayta on our way, confirmed she was still safely in our room, gave her a thumbnail of what had happened, and told her to stay put.

The Jumpsuits in the security nexus seemed decidedly annoyed that someone had smuggled a kristic aboard, and made all the usual police-type noises about looking into it, bringing the perpetrators of my assault to justice, etc. I’d made plenty of the same noises during my time with Westali, and I knew not to expect much to come out of it. Especially since they also had to admit they’d still made no progress in locating Terese.

I also wasn’t surprised that they turned down my request for a gun.

Still, they were efficient enough about getting the kristic glue balls off Doug. An hour after arriving at the nexus we finally headed out, with Emikai insisting on escorting me back to my quarters. We stopped by one of the restaurants on our way to pick up some dinner, and at long last I was finally home.

“Do not forget the court proceedings at ten tomorrow,” Emikai reminded me as Bayta undid the inner lock and opened the door. “I will be here an hour before that time to escort you.”

“Better make it an hour and a half,” I said. “Minnario said we lost points last time by being the tail end of the parade.”

“An hour and a half it will be.” Emikai eyed me. “Until then, I suggest you remain here.”

“With the door double-locked,” I agreed. “Don’t worry, I’ve had more than enough excitement for one day. Farewell, and thank you again.”

“Farewell.” Nodding to each of us, he turned and strode down the hallway, his gun bouncing at his hip.

I stepped inside, waited for Doug to pad his way in behind me, then closed the door and double-locked it. “I hope you’re hungry for Shorshian beef and rice squares with imported Human chili sauce,” I said as I crossed the room toward the dining area. Ty, I noted, was already sacked out on the bed in his usual spot by the headboard, apparently completely unaware of the ordeal his buddy had been through this evening. Briefly, I wondered if the animals were intelligent enough to share that kind of information, and whether Doug would bother, and whether Ty would care.

“Never mind the food,” Bayta said, taking my arm in a firm and very worried grip. “How are you?”

“They never laid a hand on me,” I said. “That’s actually true, by the way. Which isn’t to say they didn’t try.”

For a long moment Bayta gazed into my eyes, her face drawn and pale and tense. Then, reluctantly, she let go of my arm and sank down into one of the dining table chairs. “What are we going to do, Frank?” she asked. “I’ve never felt—how do I explain it? Pulled in so many directions at the same time.”

“Our Shonkla-raa friends have definitely been busy little bees,” I agreed, sitting down across from her. “And you’re right, one way or the other we’re being chased all over the countryside.” I opened up the bag. “Maybe it’s time we cut through some of the ground clutter.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think I know how I can end this stupid trial once and for all,” I told her. “Or at least get it postponed to the point where we can effectively cross it off our list of things to do. Once that’s done, we can concentrate on turning Proteus upside down until we find Terese.”

Bayta shivered. “If she’s still even aboard the station. Or if she’s still…”

“She’s alive, and she’s aboard,” I said firmly. “They want her baby, remember?”

“They want him alive,” Bayta murmured. “They may not care about her.”

“At this point, the simplest and safest life-support system for Terese’s baby is Terese,” I said. “Anyway, there’s no point in thinking or worrying about any other possibilities, so we won’t. Understand?”

Bayta took a deep breath. “You’re right,” she said, some of the frustration fading from her voice as the calm, cool part of her took over again. “And we will find her.”

“That’s the spirit,” I said approvingly as I laid out the bowls and utensils and the packages the restaurant had packed. “But right now, it’s time to eat. Can’t rescue a maiden in distress on an empty stomach, you know. Especially one who isn’t very keen on being rescued.”

“She appreciates us more than she lets on,” Bayta said quietly. “I think Dr. Aronobal is right. She’s been alone for a long time.”

Several snide comments flashed across my mind, most of them revolving around how a lot of that might well be Terese’s own personality. But I left them unsaid. Bayta wasn’t in the mood.

Besides, she could be right. She’d spent more time with Terese than I had, after all. “Well, she’s not going to be alone much longer,” I said instead. “Motherhood has a way of doing that. Eat up, and then I for one am turning in. It’s been a long, rich day.”

“Especially for you.” Bayta started spooning rice squares into one of the bowls. “What about Blue One?”

“What about him?”

“I was wondering about tomorrow morning,” she said. “If we’re all going to be in court—you, me, Logra Emikai, and Minnario—there’ll be no one available to watch him.”

“True,” I said. “Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do about that. We’ll just have to double-dose him in the morning and hope for the best.”

“What if the Shonkla-raa search all of our quarters while we’re out?” she persisted. “There isn’t anywhere in any of these rooms where you could hide an unconscious body for very long.”

“Sure there is,” I said, watching her closely out of the corner of my eye as I spooned some of the rice squares into my bowl. “We’ll just stuff him back in the file cabinet. No reason why the Shonkla-raa would suspect that it was full of Filly instead of files.”

Only I knew that they’d already been in Yleli’s apartment, when they’d sent that fake evacuation drill message. I knew they’d seen the file drawers we’d left behind and wouldn’t be fooled for a minute by a supposedly full file cabinet in Minnario’s room. If Bayta had been infected by the Modhri and knew about the Shonkla-raa’s computer scam, and if I was very lucky, she might show some reaction to my nonsensical argument.

But she didn’t, at least not in any way that I could detect. “I suppose that’ll work,” she said, a bit doubtfully as she picked up her fork. “Can Minnario lift him all by himself?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem,” I said. “It’s only his legs that don’t work. His upper body’s strong enough. And he can always use a couple of his chair’s thrusters if he needs help.”

“I suppose.” Bayta hesitated. “Do you think Blue One knows where Terese is?”

I shrugged. “He says he doesn’t, but I’m not ready to believe him. Tomorrow, right after the hearing, we’ll see about finding out for sure.”

Bayta shivered. “That sounds … not very pleasant.”

“It won’t be,” I agreed grimly. “You don’t have to watch if you don’t want to.”

“Yes, I do,” she said. Her expression was still disturbed, but her voice was firm enough. “I’ll be there.”

We ate our dinner mostly in silence. Afterward, as promised, I got ready for bed. Bayta stayed up a while longer, working on the computer, but after an hour or so she gave up and went to bed herself, maneuvering carefully so as not to disturb Ty. Doug, as usual, had taken up his self-appointed guard post at the door.

I waited for two hours after Bayta settled in under the blankets, dozing a little but mostly staying awake, watching and listening. Finally, when her breathing had settled down into the slow rhythm of deep sleep, I got up, dressed, and crossed to the door.

I had wondered how I was going to get Doug out of my way without waking him, but it turned out to be a moot point. Once again, my quiet activity had aroused him, and he was standing to the side of the door, clearly wondering where we were going on this newest exciting outing. Crossing my fingers against the possibility that there would be a Shonkla-raa waiting for me, I opened the door and slipped out.

The corridor was deserted. I headed quickly toward the traffic corridor and the glideway, the low nighttime lighting giving the station an eerie, graveyard feeling. The perfect time, as generations of thieves, muggers, and murderers had discovered, for creating chaos and death.

But for once, the Shonkla-raa had missed a bet. Either that, or they’d also had enough for one day. No one was loitering in the hallways or lurking around corners. In fact, the only figures I saw were a handful of Jumpsuits roaming the corridors on patrol.

Ten uneventful minutes later, I arrived at my destination.

Minnario’s eyes were half-closed with sleep as he opened the door at my buzz. They came all the way open in obvious surprise as he saw who it was. [Mr. Compton!] he gasped. [What are you—? Never mind. First things first—come in.]

“Thank you,” I said, giving a quick glance in both directions before walking inside. “Sorry to bother you at this time of night, but something’s come up that can’t wait until morning.”

[Not a problem,] he said as he closed and locked the door behind me. [What can I do for you? It’s still an hour yet until I’m supposed to give Blue One his injection.]

“Actually, I’ll go ahead and do that, as long as I’m here anyway,” I said. “But before that, I need to move him.”

[To hide him in case of a search later this morning by his friends,] Minnario said, nodding. [Yes, I’ve been wondering that as well. I presume you intend to take him back to Tech Yleli’s apartment?]

“That was my original plan, yes,” I said. “But as of a couple of hours ago, that’s no longer an option.”

I gave him a quick summary of my fun and games earlier on the glideway, and how Blue One’s buddies had cleared the arena so that they wouldn’t be disturbed. “The point is that we know they have access to Yleli’s apartment,” I concluded. “Not only do we not want his friends to find him, but the patrollers may also be in and out of the place for the next couple of days, and we don’t want them falling over him, either.”

[Agreed,] Minnario said slowly, his face puckered with thought. [But you can’t put him in your quarters, either. Logra Emikai’s?]

I shook my head. “Even if he gave me permission, I wouldn’t trust Blue One there. No, I had something hopefully a little less obvious and a lot closer in mind. Ms. German’s quarters.”

Minnario’s eyes widened. [The Human girl? But—oh. Yes, of course. She’s been spirited away, hasn’t she?]

“And according to Guard Captain Lyarrom, the patrollers have already searched her room,” I said. “It’s not perfect, but it’s as close to guaranteed privacy as we’re likely to get.”

[Agreed,] Minnario said, turning his chair around and heading toward the couch. [I presume we’ll want him back in the file cabinet, in case his friends decide to drop by?]

I hadn’t actually been planning to go quite that far. But now that I thought about it, he had a good point. If the Shonkla-raa had followed the same reasoning I had, they might conclude that a place the Jumpsuits had already searched would be a perfect spot to stash Terese. Having them walk in on Blue One dozing on the couch would be just slightly counterproductive. “Good idea,” I said. “In that same vein, we should also change the labels on the drawers so that it won’t be obvious that the cabinet came from Yleli’s apartment.”

It took a few minutes for me to attach four of Minnario’s thrusters to the file cabinet and get Blue One inside. By the time I was finished Minnario had written out and attached new labels to all the drawer faces. I gave Blue One his next sedative shot, a double one this time that would hopefully last through not only the rest of the night but also through the morning’s hearing. Closing up the cabinet, I made sure the hallway was still deserted and nudged my burden outside.

Terese’s quarters were only two doors down, which was the reason Bayta and I had been assigned that particular room in the first place. Blue One’s contraband passkey card got us inside, and I maneuvered the cabinet into the closet, where it would be inconspicuous, though not so inconspicuous that it would look like someone was trying to be inconspicuous. I positioned it so that we would be able to haul him out with relative ease once we were back from the hearing, then removed the borrowed thrusters. Again checking the hallway, I stepped out, closed the door behind me, and returned to Minnario’s quarters.

The Nemut was waiting, and had the door open again practically before I hit the buzzer. [Everything all right?] he asked as I came inside.

“As all right as I can make it,” I said, handing him the passkey and the thrusters. “Here’s the key in case you want to check on him before the hearing tomorrow. If you don’t have time, or the hallway seems too crowded, don’t bother. He should have enough juice in him to last until early afternoon.”

[When we will again interrogate him as to Ms. German’s whereabouts?] Minnario asked, a dark anticipation in his voice.

“Exactly,” I said. “Anyway, I’m off, and this time I promise I won’t be back. Sleep well.”

[You, too,] he said as he opened the door again. [Don’t be late.]

Once again, the Shonkla-raa and whatever local skulkers Proteus Station had aboard had all apparently cashed it in for the night. Fifteen minutes later, I was safely back inside our room.

Bayta was still asleep. I got undressed again and sank gratefully back onto my couch cushions. I still didn’t know if Bayta had gone rogue, under either Modhran or Chahwyn influence, but I’d now done everything I could to prevent either faction from getting to Blue One before I was finished with him.

Of course, if I was the one carrying a Modhran colony under my brain, all my effort would count for less than nothing. But then, if the Modhri had gotten to me, we were all dead anyway.

There was a quiet, questioning snuffle at my ear. “Yes, we’re done for the night,” I assured Doug softly, reaching over and scratching his belly. “You can go back to sleep now.”

He snuffled again and left, and I heard him padding his way back to the door.

I was asleep before he actually got there.