Almost immediately his prosthetic eye gave him one small piece of rea.s.surance. The man's aura spoke of impatience, boredom, weariness, but no unusual anxiety or strain. Therefore HS wasn't preparing an ambush: Holt hadn't changed his mind about letting Warden return to UMCPHQ. No doubt he was determined not to spare Warden the burden of betraying Angus and Morn.

"I'm coming," he told the guard.

At the edge of Norna's sight, however, he paused to bow and murmur softly, "Thank you. I'll do what I can."

Her parting words harried him out of the sickchamber like furies, naming his anguish and loss.

"That's not good enough, Warden Dios."

The guards looked questions at him, involuntarily curious-or perhaps only cautious. Not good enough. Not good enough. He answered them with a shrug and an impersonal frown. He answered them with a shrug and an impersonal frown.

Neither of them pursued the matter. He was the UMCP director-and they apparently hadn't been ordered to challenge him. Instead they simply guided him back to his shuttle, letting him keep his shame to himself.

He knew, as well as Norna did that merely doing what he could wasn't good enough. good enough. He just didn't have any better ideas. He just didn't have any better ideas.

Battering his brain for inspiration all the way back to UMCPHQ left him in a foul mood. Holt's orders galled him absolutely; they ate at his sore heart like an injection of vitriol. If he were the kind of man who threw up when he felt nauseous, he would have puked his guts out, trying to rid himself of his despair.

Angus and Morn were the children of his best pa.s.sion, his deepest need. He could sacrifice Vector Shaheed and the rest of Nick's people if he had to; could give Trumpet Trumpet up and let Nick go: he'd done worse. Davies would live-and Warden could at least pray that something would happen to spare the boy from what Holt had in mind. But to give Nick power over Mom and Angus, to hand them over to degradation and death after what they'd already suffered in Warden's name- up and let Nick go: he'd done worse. Davies would live-and Warden could at least pray that something would happen to spare the boy from what Holt had in mind. But to give Nick power over Mom and Angus, to hand them over to degradation and death after what they'd already suffered in Warden's name- That was completely and utterly was completely and utterly not good enough. not good enough.

Fulminating uselessly as his shuttle approached dock, he told his crew to flare Hashi Lebwohl, order the DA director to meet him in one of his private offices in ten minutes. He may have failed to be good enough good enough for Angus and Mom, but he was by G.o.d going to get the truth out of Hashi. He needed all his tolerance and more to endure the distress inside his own skull: he had none to spare for Hashi's games. for Angus and Mom, but he was by G.o.d going to get the truth out of Hashi. He needed all his tolerance and more to endure the distress inside his own skull: he had none to spare for Hashi's games.

The evidence suggested that Hashi was pulling strings behind Warden's back, interposing his own decisions between the UMCP director and events. That could be called malfeasance; it could even be called treason. On the other hand, Hashi apparently wasn't pulling strings for the Dragon. His game was his own, for good or ill.

Warden had half an hour left until his window opened on the best available listening post. He could wait that long before he coded and sent his orders to Min Dormer-before he made his own treachery irrevocable. In that time, he intended to find out how much harm Hashi had done.

Naturally, inevitably, the post itself belonged to the UMC: it was part of the vast communications network which Holt Fasner had put in place. In a hundred fifty years of hunger and aggrandizement, the Dragon had learned to plan ahead.

He would be able to obtain copies of Warden's orders to Punisher. Punisher.

That thought made Warden want to tear Hashi's head off.

His anguish had nowhere else to go.

Ignoring the salutes of dock security and the urgent requests for his attention from Center's communications techs-these days Center considered everything urgent-he strode through the corridors of his domain until he reached the office he'd specified in his message to Hashi Lebwohl.

The DA director was already there, waiting. His face wore a bleary, amiable smile, as if he'd just exchanged some pleasantry with the guards outside the office. In contrast, their expressions were nonplussed, uncomfortable: their relief as they saluted Warden was plain to his IR sight. Apparently they didn't know how to take Hashi's sense of humor.

"Director Dios."

Hashi's gla.s.ses, antique and uncared for, seemed to refract his blue gaze, confusing whatever he saw-or perhaps only whatever he allowed other people to see. Characteristically his lab coat looked like he'd, found it in a waste-disposal bin-and then slept in it for weeks. The laces of his old-fashioned shoes trailed at his heels: it was a wonder that he could walk without tripping himself.

"Inside," Warden snapped brusquely as he thrust the door open. Without waiting for Hashi to precede him, he stalked into the room, rounded the desk, and sat down in his chair.

Hashi didn't dally. He entered the office behind Warden, closed the door. As Warden keyed the door seals and security shields, Hashi came forward to stand in front of the desk. Despite his air of a.s.surance and his disreputable-professor's appearance, something in the twitching of his long fingers or the smudged glitter of his gla.s.ses conveyed the impression that he knew he was in trouble.

"From the origination of your flare," he began as if he wanted to defuse Warden's anger, "I deduce that you have just returned from bearding the Dragon in his lair. UMCPHQ scuttleb.u.t.t confirms this. And from the darkness of your glance I deduce that the encounter did not go well." As if he were quoting, he intoned, "'The great worm's in his heaven, all's wrong with the world.' My condolences."

Warden let a snarl bare his teeth. "No jokes, Hashi," he warned. "Spare me your usual line of claptrap. Yes, I've just come from a meeting with my boss. No, it didn't go well. Now I intend to find out why."

Hashi permitted himself a bemused frown. Gesturing toward a chair, he asked, "In that case, may I sit?"

"No."

Behind his lenses, Hashi's eyes widened slightly. "I see. Apparently you consider me the reason your meeting with Holt Fasner did not go well. May I inquire how that is possible?"

"You tell me."

Holding Warden's glare, Hashi lifted his shoulders in a small, helpless shrug. "How can I? I have no idea what subject you wish to discuss."

"I'll give you a hint." Warden clenched his hands into fists on the desktop. "Tell me about Free Lunch." Free Lunch."

Hashi blinked opaquely. Hints of tension sharpened his aura, but he may have been simply baffled. "What is 'free lunch'? Conventional wisdom a.s.serts that no such thing exists."

Warden swallowed a curse. Softly, softly softly, so that he wouldn't rage, he articulated, "Hashi, listen to me. This has gone on long enough. Where did you get that information about events on Billingate you reported to me a few hours ago?"

"As I told you at the time, sir"-apparently the DA director had decided to respond by acting huffy-"it arrived by routine drone service from a listening post in the Com-Mine Station asteroid belt. It was routed to me precisely because it was routine, and as a matter of routine I have a.s.signed a high priority to any data or transmission which makes reference to Thanatos Minor.

"The listening post overheard a broadcast from a ship that did not identify herself-therefore, presumably, an illegal." The more he talked, the more Hashi's pose of indignant virtue began to sound like a disguise for more complex emotions. "The broadcast was just that, broad cast, not tight-beamed to the listening post. I have no evidence that this ship knew of the listening post's existence. She was simply trying to warn other vessels-presumably other illegals-of developments on Thanatos Minor, to the extent that she had witnessed them.

"Some of the details she cited-I mentioned this at the time also, sir"-he stressed the word sir sir-"were not ones which I would have expected to find included in such a broadcast. For that reason I distrust both the content and the motives of her transmission. However, I delivered the information to you because of its obvious importance."

Subtly sarcastic, Hashi concluded, "In what way has my conduct in this matter contributed to the disagreeable outcome of your discussion with our revered CEO?"

As if he'd made his point, proved his innocence, he allowed himself to fold down into the nearest chair.

"Liar!"

Leaning forward, Warden hammered the desktop with his fists so hard that Hashi jumped out of his seat as if he'd been struck. His gla.s.ses slumped to the end of his nose: he stared at Warden over them in plain astonishment.

"You've betrayed me, and I won't have it" have it" Warden p.r.o.nounced each word like an act of violence. "You're finished. I want your resignation Warden p.r.o.nounced each word like an act of violence. "You're finished. I want your resignation here" here"-he thumped the desk again-"in less than an hour."

Hashi's mouth hung open; he seemed to have difficulty swallowing. "You?" he gaped. "Betrayed you? you? Personally? What does this have to do with you?" Personally? What does this have to do with you?"

Warden gestured his disgust. "All right-I'll say it differently. You've betrayed your trust. You've betrayed your job." job."

Hashi's reaction was instantaneous. His eyes flashed blue lightning as he retorted, "No. Never."

His IR emissions said that he was telling the truth-if the word "truth" had any meaning where he was concerned.

"Then, G.o.d d.a.m.n it, tell me about Free Lunch!" Free Lunch!" Warden let himself yell. If he didn't, Hashi's bland chicanery was going to drive him mad. "Min found her parked right on Warden let himself yell. If he didn't, Hashi's bland chicanery was going to drive him mad. "Min found her parked right on top top of that listening post! She'd used the post to send a message, but Min couldn't crack it because the codes were too G.o.dd.a.m.n of that listening post! She'd used the post to send a message, but Min couldn't crack it because the codes were too G.o.dd.a.m.n secure. secure. When she was challenged, she told Min she was working for the UMC-for Cleatus by G.o.d Fane himself! But When she was challenged, she told Min she was working for the UMC-for Cleatus by G.o.d Fane himself! But Holt Holt says that's a lie-and says that's a lie-and he he doesn't lie as well as you do." doesn't lie as well as you do."

Abruptly Warden dropped back in his seat. He took a deep breath, held it while he mastered himself, then let it out in a hard sigh. "So tell me the truth, Hashi, while you still can. What kind of s.h.i.t is this?"

During Warden's outburst, Hashi's eyebrows crawled like insects on his forehead. Slow sweat beaded on his temples; a small flush, incongruously round and precise, appeared in the center of each cheek. Blinking furiously, his blue eyes seemed to send out flares of stark panic and absolute glee, as if for him they came to the same thing.

"In that case, Warden," he murmured, "perhaps you'll permit me to amend my earlier report."

"Please."

"Free Lunch," Hashi said quickly. "Captain d.a.m.n Scroyle. If Captain Scroyle told the estimable director of Enforcement Division that he was in the employ of the United Mining Companies, either in the person of Cleatus Fane or through some other agency, he was"-Hashi made a palpable effort to restrain his instinct for rhetorical camouflage-"lying to protect his dealings with me." Hashi said quickly. "Captain d.a.m.n Scroyle. If Captain Scroyle told the estimable director of Enforcement Division that he was in the employ of the United Mining Companies, either in the person of Cleatus Fane or through some other agency, he was"-Hashi made a palpable effort to restrain his instinct for rhetorical camouflage-"lying to protect his dealings with me."

Warden scowled; but in other ways he kept his reactions to himself.

"Captain Scroyle is a mercenary," Hashi explained. "I employ such individuals as occasion warrants. And I demand security for my operations. In addition, much of Captain Scroyle's value to me rests on his ability to pa.s.s as illegal. For these reasons, he misled Director Dormer.

"On this occasion I had employed him several weeks ago to visit Thanatos Minor as my surrogate-what you might call a mobile listening post. I am not a complacent man, Warden. I trust the work I have done with Joshua, and I stand by it, but I do not care to rely on it exclusively. Therefore I employed Captain Scroyle to do exactly what he has done-to provide an early report on the outcome of Joshua's mission.

"Have I acted unwisely?" he concluded. "Has Captain Scroyle's information not already shown its value?"

Warden dismissed the value of Captain Scroyle's information with a snort. "That's not the real question, and you know it." In fact that information was priceless. Yet it wasn't as critical as his ability to trust the DA director. "The question is why you didn't tell me all this. I'm the G.o.dd.a.m.n director director of the UMCP. What made you think you should lie to of the UMCP. What made you think you should lie to me? me?

"You are in charge of Data Acquisition. Acquisition. It's your It's your job job to give me facts, not bulls.h.i.t." to give me facts, not bulls.h.i.t."

Hashi Lebwohl was the only man Warden knew who could prevaricate without showing it. A calm face and confident manner were easy; so were any number of disguises and distortions. But to inhibit the body's autonomic response to stress was normally impossible. And the specific anxiety of falsehood had an IR signature which Warden had learned to recognize-in every case except Hashi's. By this more than any other evidence, he knew that Hashi made no essential distinction between truth and lies. He showed no stress because he felt none.

He felt it now, however. His aura squirmed with it; his pulse labored under its weight. Warden's demand touched a vulnerability in him which may have had nothing to do with truth or falsehood.

Shrugging uncomfortably, he replied, "I knew that you would be required to share any information you received with CEO Fasner, and I did not wish to compromise Captain Scroyle by making his usefulness known to men I distrust. In addition, I believed that your position with CEO Fasner would be stronger if he were denied knowledge of all the resources at my command-therefore at your disposal. On the other hand, it would be plainly fatal if you withheld information from your superior and were detected doing so. I chose to spare you that hazard."

More bulls.h.i.t, Warden thought. He could hear it as well as see it; he could practically smell it. On impulse, however, he decided not to challenge it. He wanted to see how deep Hashi's dishonesty ran.

Glowering his impatience, he rasped, "That's not good enough. How am I supposed to trust you now? How much do you think I can afford to tell you?"

Hashi didn't need to study the question. He had an answer ready. "Our positions are dissimilar. You must report to the GCES, as well as to CEO Fasner. I report only to you. Neither great worms nor councils of indecision have power over me. Anything which you withhold from me can only damage my effectiveness." Almost pleading, he said softly, "I cannot do my job job, Warden, if facts are kept from me."

Warden restrained an impulse to pound the desk again. He'd mastered his anger: it was cold and hard, and he used it to focus his scrutiny of the DA director. While all his hopes unraveled, and his chronometer ticked away the lives of the people he needed most, he concentrated on surprising, coercing, or perhaps earning one critical piece of accuracy from Hashi Lebwohl.

"All right. I'll copy Min's report to DA. You can study it in your spare time. But I'll give you the real highlights.

"Trumpet is alive. She came out of forbidden s.p.a.ce while Min was arguing with your Captain Scroyle, flared a transmission to that listening post, and headed on. is alive. She came out of forbidden s.p.a.ce while Min was arguing with your Captain Scroyle, flared a transmission to that listening post, and headed on.

"According to her message, she succeeded. Billingate is gone. That's the good news. The bad news is that Jerico priority has been superseded. Milos went over to the Amnion. That would have been a disaster if it hadn't been so d.a.m.n predictable. So Angus isn't coming anywhere near here until we position someone to invoke his new codes."

Hashi nodded to himself. His smile was impersonal, but it hinted at a certain complacency. His work with Joshua was being vindicated.

"He has quite a pa.s.senger list," Warden went on. "If Trumpet Trumpet were any smaller, they would be sleeping in the drive s.p.a.ces." He spoke in a drawl like a sneer, preparing the blow he meant to strike at Hashi-the first of several, if he needed them. "Nick is there. He brought four of his people with him-Mikka Vasaczk, Ciro Vasaczk, Sib Mackern, and-by some truly monumental coincidence-Vector Shaheed, whose name I'm sure you'll recognize." were any smaller, they would be sleeping in the drive s.p.a.ces." He spoke in a drawl like a sneer, preparing the blow he meant to strike at Hashi-the first of several, if he needed them. "Nick is there. He brought four of his people with him-Mikka Vasaczk, Ciro Vasaczk, Sib Mackern, and-by some truly monumental coincidence-Vector Shaheed, whose name I'm sure you'll recognize."

"How could I forget it?" Hashi radiated confidence and falseness. "I lament for him whenever I go to my rest, although only my pillow hears me. To take his work from him before he could complete it was necessary, but unfortunate-grievous to a man of his abilities. Under better circ.u.mstances he would have been nurtured for his achievements rather than discarded."

The DA director was stalling, Warden observed; filling the air with words to cover him while his mind raced to examine the implications of Shaheed's presence aboard Trumpet. Trumpet.

Warden didn't give Hashi time to think. After only a short pause, he announced harshly, "In addition there's Morn Hyland."

"Aboard Trumpet!" Trumpet!" Hashi croaked. "Aboard Hashi croaked. "Aboard Trumpet!" Trumpet!"

Warden nodded. "With Nick and Angus."

The information didn't stagger Hashi. He sat down reflexively, as if his legs had been cut out from under him; yet his IR aura betrayed no shock. Instead it flared like an eager sun; sent out crackling flares of excitement and apprehension.

"So it is true," he breathed. "I considered the eventuality that she might survive. I believed it-yet I feared to believe it. Why is it not impossible?"

Brutally dishonest, driven by shame, Warden demanded, "Do you still stand by the work you did with Joshua?"

Aren't you to blame for this?

Of course he wasn't. Warden had done it himself: he had no one else to accuse. But Hashi didn't know that. And Warden intended to hit him as hard as necessary to learn the truth.

Hashi seemed not to have heard him, however; not to have felt the veiled accusation. His aura surged with emissions which would have indicated terror in anyone else, but which in him appeared to imply exultation.

"Director," he murmured softly, "there is treason here. Treachery and betrayal. Nick Succorso is-"

But then he stopped himself. "No, I will not judge this rashly." The smears on his lenses refracted his blue gaze into streaks of hope and apprehension. "Joshua's mission has become a great and terrible thing. To master it, we must also be great and terrible."

Hashi's concentration had turned entirely inward. Trying to drag it outward-break past Hashi's defenses-Warden rasped through his teeth, "There's one other highlight you should know about. Apparently she has a son."

Hashi didn't react. He might not have heard Warden.

"She calls him Davies Hyland. Nick's kid-or Angus'." The thought twisted Warden's heart. "It turns out the reason-the only reason we have so far-they went to Enablement was so she could have this boy force-grown. Do you know anything about that? Do you know how the Amnion supply minds to kids whose bodies mature in hours instead of years?"

Whose mind has Davies got?

Hashi shook his head. His emissions wrapped around him in coils of self-absorption.

"Director, I must understand this," he said from the center of his private thoughts. "Do you wish me to credit that Joshua has broken his programming?"

"What else?" Warden snapped.

Hashi blinked behind his gla.s.ses. At last he shifted his attention to Warden. "Can you think of no other explanation for Morn Hyland's unlooked-for survival?" he countered. "Then why does he still act as we have instructed him, reporting his own freedom when surely escape is what he desires most?

"In some sense," he concluded, "his essential instruction sets hold. He remains ours."

"All right." Warden conceded the point. "You tell me. Why is she still alive?"

What treason are you talking about?

Hashi pulled IR flares and flails into focus.

"Is it not possible," he asked, "that her survival represents a bargain of some kind? Perhaps Joshua encountered situations, dilemmas, complexities on Thanatos Minor which we did not foresee. Perhaps the presence of Amnion warships-or Milos Taverner's treachery-challenged him beyond his limits. Or perhaps Milos saw fit to adjust one or another of his priorities. Under those conditions, he may have recognized the need for aid.

"And to whom would he turn, if not to another of our affiliated operatives-to Nick Succorso? If Captain Succorso demanded Morn Hyland's life as the price for his a.s.sistance, Joshua's programming would not have precluded acceptance."

"Fine," Warden growled. He'd offered the same argument to Holt Fasner. It was false, and he knew it. "Why in h.e.l.l would Succorso do such a thing?"

What's this treason you're afraid of? Are you talking about yourself?

Hashi straightened in his seat. As if he didn't notice what he was doing, his hands made incongruous, tentative attempts to smooth his rumpled lab coat. For a moment he seemed unwilling to meet Warden's gaze. Then he faced Warden squarely.

"Director, what I must tell you will anger you." A wheeze of pressure made his voice raw. "Yet I believe I have acted with almost prescient wisdom."