Pachefski shook his hands as if ridding himself of his tormentors. "If they'd spend just half the time they spend pestering me and my staff lobbying for international aid, their problems and mine would be solved."

This last was a bit unfair. The international aid communities poured millions into the world refugee centers, partly, Thomas suspected, to keep those refugees as far away from their borders as possible.

So you want me to suppress this investigation for the good of humanity? Or at least to keep your job from getting harder? Thomas steepled his fingers. Or is it something more than that? "I see your concern, sir. I would much prefer that this affair prove to have nothing to do with the service. It's my most heartfelt hope."

Admiral Pachefski nodded, but his eyes held doubt. "As it is mine."Thomas shrugged and raised opened hands. "We'll just have to hope the villains of this event are not ours."

Pachefski sat back down at his desk and leaned forward. "Hope? That's a powerful force, but the Lord helps those who help themselves. Certain avenues of investigation may prove more... productive than others."

Thomas groaned inwardly. Don't go there, Admiral. "That goes without saying."

"And if one were to find insufficient evidence that the INS were involved, then, of course, one could even conclude that criminals were involved, absolving the service completely."

This is embarrassing. "I'm sure that whatever conclusions reached by this investigation will be supported by the evidence."

"The selection of relevant evidence must be quite an art."

Thomas was angry now, but his face was perfectly still. "Negative evidence would not undo the damage done by the release of the Beenan video. Positive evidence of non-INS involvement is the only thing that will counter public suspicions of an INS atrocity."

Pachefski furrowed his brow. "I hadn't thought of that, but you're right, of course. Positive evidence. We must see what can be found."

Found? Or manufactured? Thomas licked his lips, which were suddenly dry.

"I'm sure our investigation will consider all possibilities."

"My intelligence office gets all sorts of news through the refugee community.

Why don't we walk down there and see what they've got?"

"I'd rather not, sir. I need to be getting back to the city."

"Ah, you've leads then? You should coordinate with my intelligence section."

I'm not opening my investigation up to you or your lackeys. It was going to get ugly; Becket could feel it. Pachefski was passionately loyal to his people and he demanded the same in return. Becket had never been his. He steeled himself for the coming fight.

The intercom chimed.

Annoyed, Pachefski thumbed the button. "I'm in a meeting here!"

A nervous voice returned, "It's Admiral Rylant, sir. He insisted."

Pachefski's face stilled. "All right, Ramirez. I'll take it." He picked up the handset. "Hello, Larry." He listened for a moment, then held up the phone. "He'd like to talk to you."

Thomas stood and took the handset. "Yes, sir."Admiral Rylant's voice said, "Jazz called me. Just give the phone back to him and leave. That, by the way, is a clear and direct order."

Thomas suppressed a grin. Rock breaks scissors. "Yes, sir. I'm on my way, sir."

He handed the phone back to Admiral Pachefski and left the room.

There was no escort back to the dock and Thomas was glad. His uniform was enough to gain him passage, though he shifted his watch and wallet to the inside of his uniform shirt. He walked slowly, keeping aware, offering a polite "Perdon" and "

Excusa" as they moved out of his way. At least once he heard whispered, "El Cicatrizado!"

Later, through security and waiting on the hovercraft dock, Thomas barely saw his surroundings, his head whirling with dangerous possibilities. I really thought he'd called me in to see if my investigation ranged into his territory, but it seems he has a much more active role in mind. But is he just trying to keep the service image clean-or is it something more? Is he involved in this? Does he know who is ?.

Regardless, the scope of the investigation had just increased.

6.

Beenan: Encuentros

Patricia's satphone, hooked to her belt, went off while she was hurtling down a tube slide, three little girls clutched between her legs. They all tumbled out onto the rubber tile at the bottom of the play structure and after she made sure the girls moved clear of the slide, she answered the phone.

It was Bill Moses. "The INS officer in charge of the investigation is out here on the Strand. He'd like to meet with you. He didn't kick at all about our conditions."

"Not a bit?"

"Not a bit. I came on a little hard at first, saying you wouldn't go mainland or out to the Abattoir and he said, 'Why should she? I'm here. She's here. Let's meet.' "

Patricia shook her head doubtfully. "Are you sure he's INS?"

"Positive. He's the CO of a CID unit. A full commander."

"What's a CID unit?"

"Criminal Investigations Division:"Patricia skipped sideways to avoid a shrieking knot of children running from one boy. The chase moved past her and up into the structure. She decided the shrieks were more in joy than fear and the boy's growls more feigned than real.

"Why isn't the FBI involved? Or even the Texas Department of Public Safety? It sounds like the INS is involved because they want to protect themselves."

"Maybe, but it's their jurisdiction. Crimes in coastal waters, especially involving shipping, are their meat."

"I reserve judgment."

Moses snorted. "Well, duh!"

"When and where?"

"I've booked conference room C here at the chambers. I told Commander Becket six o'clock."

"I'm stuck here until six. It'll take me at least a half hour to change and make it across the bay."

"Patti, you own that facility. Can't you get someone to replace you?"

"We're shorthanded here. We're always shorthanded." And if you didn't maintain so many scholarship students, you could hire more help. "If you like, I'll call the commander and explain why it has to be six-thirty."

"I don't know about that. I thought the idea was for me to buffer you from the INS.".

"But I also want to talk them into giving me back Terminal Lorraine. Since I have to postpone, I'd rather take the sting out."

Moses paused, then sighed. "If you want. I guess that would work." He gave her the number. "Unless I hear otherwise, I'll meet you at the chamber at six-thirty."

"Thanks, Bill."

She dialed the number, a satphone area code she noted, but before she hit "send," she told one of the other attendants that she was taking a bathroom break.

She wasn't sure she could make this call and keep her cool if, at some critical juncture, she was swarmed by children.

Inside she sat down on a bench by the restrooms and completed the call.

The voice that answered was fogged by sleep. "Hello?"

Oh shit. And I wanted him to help me. "Commander Becket?"

He started to say yes, but was interrupted by a jaw-cracking yawn. "Excuse me.

Yes, this is Becket.""Um, this is Patricia Beenan. I'm sorry to wake you."

"Beenan?" The voice suddenly sharpened. "Ah, Ms. Beenan. Yes, ma'am, what can I do for you?"

"Our meeting tonight-I have to postpone."

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. "I wish you'd reconsider. I may have to fly back to the mainland tomorrow."

"Oh! No, I'm sorry. I don't have to postpone that long-just a half hour. I'm tied up until six, and it will take me a half hour to change and get across to Palacios."

The assembly chambers were in the central tower of Palacios, another subdivision of New Galveston. Like all the subdivisions of New Galveston, it was named after a drowned city on the Texas coast.

"Ah. Certainly. Not a problem. Um, look, I'm coming from the airport Hilton so I have to cross the lagoon anyway. How about I pick you up on the way? If that's convenient?"

And take me where? She closed her eyes briefly. Remember, girl, you want him to help you. "If that's not too much trouble. I can meet you at the Matagorda Intercity ferry dock at six-ten. That's on the south side, the one facing Playa del Mar."

"The resort? Ah, so Matagorda is on the south end?"

"Yes, it's the southernmost subdivision-pretty much straight across from the airport."

"That's handy. Um, I'll be in a Hertz boat, but I guess there's a million of them around so it would be hard to tell which one we were."

"Won't you be in uniform?"

"No," Becket said shortly. "I'll try and be on time, though. And..."

"Yes, Commander?"

"Well, I've got a bit of scar tissue on my face. It's kind of hard to miss."

"It's not a trench coat or a flower in a lapel," she said brightly, "but I should be able to recognize you."

She heard him breathe out heavily. "Yeah. Can't miss me."

"See you then."

She dithered over clothes, torn between her most formal assemblywoman pants suit and a more informal sundress, festive and brightly patterned. In the end she went with the dress but threw on a dark jacket to tone it down. She pulled on flats andstuffed her wallet and satphone in a disused purse as she went out the door.

It was a three-minute walk to the ferry dock, a dash downstairs and then through the circular warren of public-access corridors opening, at the end, to a waterside elevated walkway dipping down to the dock proper. She avoided the Intercity ferry queue and walked over to the small-boat side of the dock where large Loading and Unloading Only signs were spaced every twenty feet.

There were several people waiting for boats that weren't there and several boats waiting for people who weren't there. Sailboats, motorboats, several solar/sail hybrids, a few sampans with junk sails or single sculling oars. There were even three gondoliers in striped shirts, their gondolas rafted together at a mooring buoy several yards away from the pier, probably waiting for tourists they'd brought over from Playa del Mar.

A vendor was selling fish tacos and black bean mango salsa from a pushcart, and the smells rising from his propane grill reminded Patricia that she'd only snacked at lunchtime.

A man stood on a box and ranted at the crowd. "The earth also was corrupt before God, and the earth was filled with violence. And God looked upon the earth, and, behold, it was corrupt; for all flesh had corrupted His way upon the earth. And God said unto Noah, The end of all flesh is come before me; for the earth is filled with violence through them; and, behold, I will destroy them with the earth."

Ah, Church of the New Genesis. They believed the Deluge was a renewal of God's original flood of Genesis. There were a lot of them on New Galveston-they thought of it as the new Ark.

She moved away from the speaker until his voice merged with the general roar, threading through the crowd on the edge of the pier and looking down into the boats. She spotted Becket, finally, farther down the dock, a medium-sized man dressed in a shirt and tie, with dark slacks. Even from a distance she could see how the scarring changed the skin tone on the right side of his face. He was leaning against one of the Loading Zone signposts, his arms crossed, watching the crowd, but he hadn't spotted her yet. She wondered where his boat was, for there wasn't one tied beside him.

"I saw you on the news," came a voice from behind her.

Oh, god. It was the last voice she wanted to hear. She turned slowly and glared at Geoffrey.

It still hurt to look at him. There he was, tall and lean and blond, a perfect match for Toni. He was wearing sandals, jeans, and a Hawaiian shirt with the top two buttons open, his curly brown chest hair showing. He'd been drinking. She could tell by the smile. There was a certain meanness that came out only when he'd been drinking. Near the end of their relationship, that had been often."Go away," she said.

He looked hurt. "Don't be that way, darling. It was just like old times seeing you on the news, especially the way that tank top clung." He let his eyes drop to her chest.

"Geoffrey, the court order is still in effect. If you don't leave this minute, I'm going to have you arrested."

Geoffrey laughed. "The pier cop left. Chinese man got in a fight with two Chicanos and he hauled them all off to the precinct."

"Go away, Geoffrey," she said, and turned.

He grabbed at her shoulder and she spun, inside his arms, raising her free arm level with her forehead. Her elbow smacked into Geoffrey's cheekbone and pain shot up her arm.

Geoffrey grunted and stumbled sideways, releasing her and clutching at his face.

"Oh, shiii-" He reached the edge of the pier before regaining his balance and toppled over, falling the six feet down to the water's surface. She heard his breath leave his lungs on impact, then she stepped back, too late, to avoid getting splashed across the front of her dress.

Just great!

Geoffrey clawed his way back to the surface and gasped for air. Convinced he wasn't going to drown, Patricia turned back around, cradling her elbow.

Commander Becket was staring at her now, no longer leaning on the sign but walking slowly forward. Behind Patricia a string of obscenities floated up from the water.