He reached for the door without saying good-bye.

Pleased by his own equanimity, Sixten drawled, "I can think of worse fates."

At that the Special Counsel turned back. His eyes glittered like chips of mica, and his features were dense with anger.

"I'll tell you something I've learned," he said softly, ominously. "You haven't asked-you aren't interested in 'functional details'-but I'll tell you anyway.

"Angus Thermopyle was arrested for stealing supplies from Com-Mine Station. There didn't seem to be any other explanation, so he was presumed to have an accomplice in Com-Mine Security. That 'functional detail' broke the opposition to the Preempt Act. It gave Dios the last piece of authority he needed to become the only effective power in human s.p.a.ce.

"But who was Thermopyle's accomplice?" Although Maxim kept his voice quiet, he wielded it like a bludgeon. "Who did he pay off? Hashi Lebwohl tells us it was Deputy Chief Milos. Taverner-the same man who somehow managed to help Thermopyle escape from UMCPHQ right under Dios' nose. That sounds plausible, doesn't it?-if you a.s.sume UMCPHQ Security is lax enough to let something like that happen. And it's consistent with the fact that Taverner did a great deal of off-Station banking. His records are still sealed-I don't have authorization to open them-but for a mere deputy chief he had an enormous number of transactions.

"He sounds like a traitor, doesn't he?"

Sixten stared back at Igensard as if the Special Counsel were a kaze who might go off at any moment.

"But here's the interesting part, Captain Vertigus-the part that should make you rethink your intransigence. If Milos Taverner was receiving illicit payments, they didn't come from Angus Thermopyle. He had no money. The evidence of his datacore is irrefutable on this point. He had no money. He had no money. Despite his legendary reputation, he wasn't even able to acc.u.mulate enough credit to repair his ship. Despite his legendary reputation, he wasn't even able to acc.u.mulate enough credit to repair his ship.

"We're left with a fascinating question, Captain Vertigus. Who paid Taverner to help Thermopyle?" Maxim nearly spat the words. "Who benefited? benefited?

"When I get Council authorization to req the UMCP's financial records-especially Hashi Lebwohl's-I believe I'll learn the answer.

"Think about 'functional details,' Captain Vertigus. Think about 'worse fates.' Call me if you change your mind."

As if he were a juggernaut, ma.s.sive and unstoppable, Igensard hauled open the door and left.

Sixten continued to stare at the door after his visitor was gone. At the moment he couldn't imagine-or perhaps merely couldn't remember-what he'd hoped to gain by frustrating the Special Counsel. Who benefited? He didn't want to know. All he wanted was sleep. Everything else was m.u.f.fled by the precipitous drowsiness of the old.

Warden Dios, what are you doing? doing?

With an effort, he remained awake long enough to lean over his private intercom and mutter, "You might as well come out of hiding. He's gone."

A voice replied promptly, "I'm on my way."

She's paying attention, he observed to no one in particular. That's good. One of us ought to.

Consoling himself with that thought, he let himself fall into the dark without Maxim Igensard's provocation.

Once again the sound of his intercom pulled him out of dreams he couldn't recollect and didn't care about.

"Captain Vertigus?" Marthe's replacement was barely thirty-only a kid. To his ears, confused by sleep, she sounded like she'd just crawled out of her crib. "UMCP Director of Protocol Koina Hannish is here to see you."

He sighed. "Send her in."

Warden Dios had paid Milos Taverner to frame Angus Thermopyle. So that the Preempt Act would pa.s.s.

Where does Personnel get these d.a.m.n children? he muttered to himself while he straightened his clothes. Does she think I don't know who Koina Hannish is?

For a moment or two he missed Marthe so acutely that tears came to his eyes. She'd been his aide-executive a.s.sistant and personal secretary in one-for as long as he'd sat on the GCES; and for at least the last fifteen years, ever since his wife died, she'd been his only real companion. The knowledge that she could be blown to bits just because someone somewhere with access to kazes and no heart had taken it into his head to wish death on an old man made Sixten feel bitter and brittle.

My position doesn't depend on such functional details as honor or malfeasance. Show me the Number of the Beast etched on Warden Dios' forehead, and I'll say the same.

Bulls.h.i.t.

Koina Hannish came into his office while he was still trying to rub the tears off his cheeks.

She stopped when she saw him. "I'm sorry," she murmured quickly, "I'm intruding. I'll wait outside."

He made a gesture of denial. "Don't bother." Then he beckoned her in, flapped one hand to tell her to close the door. "Take my advice," he growled thinly while he blinked his eyes clear. "Don't get old. It makes you soppy."

Koina did him the courtesy of taking him at his word. Radiating kindness despite her immaculate professional manner, she shut the door, crossed to the chair Igensard had recently vacated, and sat down.

"Captain Vertigus, you can be as soppy as you want with me," she said softly. "I don't mind. In fact, I like being reminded that there are still people in the world who can be touched."

Sixten didn't want to discuss old grief-or more present despair. Given the choice, he found his failures easier to contemplate. To deflect Koina's attention, he muttered, "I take it you didn't get the impression that Special Counsel Maxim Igensard can be touched?"

He didn't intend the change of subject as a reproach, however, so he was glad to see that she didn't appear to take it as such. In any case she made the adjustment smoothly.

"Not really." Her smile was detached; comradely in an impersonal way. "He seems too driven for that." Then she shrugged. "He's doing his job. These questions have to be raised. For that matter, they have to be answered." She hesitated briefly before remarking, "I'm still not sure I understand why you wanted me to overhear your conversation."

Tears continued burning at the backs of Sixten's eyes as he faced her. He wanted to ask nakedly, Is it true? You work there-is it true? Did Warden Dios pay Milos Taverner to betray Com-Mine Security so the Preempt Act would pa.s.s? But he wasn't sure that he could bear her response. She might say something that would do his courage-not to mention his convictions-more damage than he could sustain. Instead he did his best to concentrate on her own uncertainty. "Is there a problem?"

"Well"-she considered the situation as she spoke-"it does put me in a rather compromising position. I know something I shouldn't about the Special Counsel's investigation. And Warden Dios is my boss. Do I tell him what I've heard, or do I keep it to myself? If he's corrupt, he should be caught and stopped: But if he's honorable, he deserves a chance to defend himself."

Do you believe he's honorable? Sixten wondered. But he didn't challenge her because she might not have an answer. She was new to her job, if not to PR: she might very well not know whether the UMCP director was malign or honest.

"I can't help you with that," he replied more brusquely than he intended: pain and time left him too fragile to match her kindness. "You'll have to trust your conscience.

"But I wasn't trying to cause you trouble," he went on with better composure. "I didn't know what Igensard was going to say. As I've already told you, I'm afraid you're in danger. It can't be an accident that both G.o.dsen Frik and I were attacked on the same day. Men like G.o.dsen and me have been safe for decades. His a.s.sociation with Holt Fasner protected him. And I-" He spread his hands weakly. "I've been safe because I don't represent any danger.

"I have to ask myself what's changed. And I can only come up with two answers. One is the Special Counsel's investigation. I don't know how or why. Frankly, I can't imagine how either of us is relevant. But that's no worse than the other answer, which is that someone wants to stop me from introducing this Bill of Severance. Again, I don't know how or why. And it doesn't make sense in any case. n.o.body-except you, now-has any idea what I'm about to do."

Except Min Donner, he added to himself. If she set me up, she's crazy, and we're all doomed.

"I wish I could think of some other explanation," he told Koina thinly. "I've tried, and I can't. But under the circ.u.mstances I can't ignore the possibility that you're next."

She frowned as if she were thinking hard. "I appreciate your concern," she replied slowly, "more than I can easily explain. I'm new to my position. And until Director Dios promoted me, I served under G.o.dsen Frik." She shrugged delicately. "That taught me a rather jaundiced view of Protocol. In fact, I was reluctant to be promoted. The prospect of being asked to do the same kind of job Director Frik did was"-her mouth twisted-"unpleasant. However, since Director Dios persuaded me to accept the a.s.signment, I've begun to feel differently.

"Your concern for me-your willingness to take the risk that your efforts might be opposed because you spoke to me-has given me an interesting litmus test for the people I serve. My 'conscience,' as you call it, required me to tell Director Dios of your concern."

Trying to conceal a sudden pang, Sixten a.s.sumed his prune like expression. Oh, G.o.d, what have I done? How many of us have I betrayed?

"His response," she went on intently, "was just what I was praying for. He told me-I wish I could quote him as convincingly as he spoke-he said, 'We shouldn't be talking about this. We shouldn't know about it at all. If and when the question of a Bill of Severance comes to your attention through normal, public public channels, our position is one of strict and absolute neutrality. Our only legal authority for what we do comes from the GCES, and it is the proper business of the GCES to make decisions about that authority. We accept those decisions, whatever they might be.' " channels, our position is one of strict and absolute neutrality. Our only legal authority for what we do comes from the GCES, and it is the proper business of the GCES to make decisions about that authority. We accept those decisions, whatever they might be.' "

Sixten twitched uncomfortably. "I'm still worried. It's easy to say things like that. If you have the voice for it, it's easy to say them with conviction. I know you were doing what you thought was right, Director Hannish, and I don't blame you." Warden Dios had paid Milos Taverner to frame Angus Thermopyle. So that the Preempt Act would pa.s.s. "But I'm afraid you've given him time to figure out how to stop me."

She shook her head. A complex conviction of her own showed in her eyes. "He also told me I'm in no danger. He was quite clear about it. He a.s.sured me that the attacks on you and Director Frik had nothing to do with your bill."

Sixten forgot to keep his mouth pursed. He stared at her, too full of astonishment or horror to be careful. "You mean he knows what's really going on?"

Koina held his gaze firmly. "He didn't say that in so many words, but the implication was unmistakable. And he told me that the next GCES session might shed some light on it."

Sixten could hardly contain himself. His high voice sounded like a yelp. "You mean he even knows what's going to happen in the next session?"

She nodded. After a moment's hesitation, she added, "That's when I realized I believed him."

"Even if Igensard is right?" he protested. Even if Dios bribed Milos Taverner to frame Angus Thermopyle?

She didn't falter. "Even then." Her eyes were as clear as gems. "Somehow I don't think the Special Counsel has the whole story."

Afraid that he might start to weep again, Sixten raised his hands to his face and ground the heels of his palms into his eyes. What did it mean? mean? For G.o.d's sake, what was Dios For G.o.d's sake, what was Dios doing? doing? The UWB Senior Member was old; The UWB Senior Member was old; too too old; he'd lost whatever capacity he may once have had for dealing with conspiracies and crises. Min Donner had- old; he'd lost whatever capacity he may once have had for dealing with conspiracies and crises. Min Donner had- Abruptly his heart stopped. In a blaze of inspiration or paranoia he imagined what it would be like if a kaze went off in the Council hall while the GCES was in session. With a vividness which appalled him, he felt the carnage; saw bodies sprawling like sc.r.a.p among the wrecked furniture; heard the slow, bitter dripping of blood from the walls.

After which naturally Warden Dios would have no choice but to declare martial law, take over the government of all human s.p.a.ce himself; answerable only to Holt Fasner.

That was exactly the crisis a Bill of Severance would prevent. If it pa.s.sed.

Sixten's pulse began racing to catch up with his fear. He found himself in a cold sweat, shivering feverishly while perspiration turned to ice on his forehead and ran down the sides of his jaw.

Min Donner had set him up. She'd put his life on the line in an attempt to stave off a future which Warden Dios-if no one else-could see coming.

"Captain Vertigus?" Koina murmured anxiously. "Are you all right?"

No, Sixten insisted to himself, groping for sanity. It was too much. Too blatant; too brutal. No one would go that far. Even Holt Fasner the megalomaniac wouldn't go that far- "Are you all right?" Koina repeated more urgently.

-unless he was provoked.

Unless Igensard's investigation threatened the Dragon in ways Sixten couldn't imagine.

Then he might do anything.

With an effort, Sixten faced the PR director. "Take my advice." His voice shook; he couldn't control it. "Don't get old. It gives you nightmares even when you're awake."

"Captain Vertigus," she breathed, "Sixten, is there anything I can do? Can I get you anything? What do you need?"

I need. I need. He could hardly think of an answer. I need to make up my G.o.dd.a.m.n mind. I need to just face it face it and take the consequences. and take the consequences.

Or yield to Igensard. Start running and never stop until this pitiful excuse for a heart cracks open and lets me go.

Barely able to form words past the pressure in his chest, he croaked, "Who do you trust?"

"Trust?" She stared at him in confusion.

"I mean besides Dios. Somebody you know-somebody in UMCPHQ. Who do you trust?"

Koina replied with a perplexed frown. She may have thought he'd lost his mind: she looked like she was about to stand up and leave; dissociate herself from him before he started raving. But after a moment she reached a different decision.

Carefully she replied, "Director Lebwohl."

Grimly Sixten fought down the sight of bodies and blood. Get a grip on yourself, you old fool. He was the first human being who'd ever seen an Amnioni. He'd gone to the Amnion vessel alone, against Holt Fasner's direct orders, so that he could meet the unknown, the future, and believe that he was able to face it. Surely he could do the same now.

Still shaking, he addressed Koina. "Tell Director Lebwohl I'm afraid there's going to be another attack. During the next session. Tell him if he's ever been a real cop-if he cares at all about the integrity of the UMCP, or the rule of law in human s.p.a.ce-or even if he just wants to clear his reputation-he's got to keep kazes away from the hall."

Her eyes widened: he'd taken her by surprise. However, her reaction wasn't what he'd expected.

"I'll tell him," she promised. "I'll tell him your exact words. And I think he'll listen. He'll take you seriously.

"But in the meantime-"

She paused as if she had to choose her words.

"You haven't heard-it hasn't been announced yet. Some rather difficult negotiations have been going on between GCES Security and UMCPHQ. You could say that they've been fighting over 'turf'-jurisdiction. I think I've finally worked out an agreement. In fact, President Len has already signed it. And Director Dios has given his authorization.

"Within the next four hours, we're going to double the number of security personnel on Suka Bator. Every precaution you can think of will be in effect. The UMCPHQ Chief of Security will be in command. He's one of Director Donner's people," she added as if she hoped that would allay some of Sixten's fears.

He didn't know what to say to this, so he concentrated on keeping his mouth shut; controlling his panic.

"I don't ask you to be content with that," Koina continued. "You've already been attacked once-you can't be expected to trust ordinary security. And there's no reason why we shouldn't both ask Director Lebwohl to take additional steps. He might very well think of something UMCPHQ Security has missed."

Come on, he adjured himself. Pull yourself together. Don't leave her hanging.

"Thank you." He thought that was the best he could manage; but his voice sounded so pitiful in his own ears that he forced himself to try again. "Maybe some things are worth dying for."

Clearly she didn't understand him. How could she? Resuming her professional manner, she said, "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

The Bill of Severance was Min Donner's idea. She'd given it to Sixten.

And Warden Dios had paid Milos Taverner to frame Angus Thermopyle.

Koina started to rise, then lowered herself back to the edge of her seat. "I need to go," she said-with a hint of anxiety, "but before I do, I think I should tell you that I'm going to let Director Dios know about your conversation with Special Counsel Igensard. If I really believe in him, I'd better act like it."

Sixten's shrug felt less unconcerned and more helpless than he liked.

She leaned forward. "I don't mean to hover over you, but I have to ask. Are you all right? Are you really all right?"

To his relief he found that his fright was receding. He may have actually reached a decision. Or perhaps he was merely sleepy. Whatever the explanation, he was able to respond in a more normal tone.

"My dear young lady, at my age it's almost impossible to make a useful distinction between being and not being 'all right.' Please don't worry about it. At a guess, I would say that I'm not quite ready to collapse."

If he'd been a decade or two less ancient, her smile might have warmed his heart. "In that case," she said as she stood, "I'll go catch my shuttle."

He didn't get to his feet-he didn't think he had the strength-but from his chair he gave her a formal bow when she reached the door and turned to say good-bye.

As she left, he realized that he'd already gone too far to change his mind. Whether he lived or died, he was going to stand by his beliefs.

ANCILLARY.

DOc.u.mENTATION.