"After that Trumpet Trumpet left just in time to escape being caught in the shock wave. But she didn't head for human s.p.a.ce, which was what any sane ship would have done. Instead eight or ten hours went by before she came back over-and when she did, it wasn't from the direction of Thanatos Minor. left just in time to escape being caught in the shock wave. But she didn't head for human s.p.a.ce, which was what any sane ship would have done. Instead eight or ten hours went by before she came back over-and when she did, it wasn't from the direction of Thanatos Minor.

"In the meantime Min Donner had already sent out a reception committee to welcome her back. But she didn't stop for it. In fact, none of us would have seen her at all if she hadn't paused to flare that listening post. And then she turned straight for Ma.s.sif-5, acting like a ship who wanted to have nothing to do with the UMCP-except for the fact that she left a nice, convenient homing signal behind her, and came here by careful stages, so she would be easy to follow."

With mild vexation, Darrin noticed that he was making the skin of his chest raw. Scratching too hard. Alesha would have reminded him to stop if she hadn't been concentrating on what he said. Frowning at his hand, he set it down on his thigh.

"At the same time another ship appeared out of forbidden s.p.a.ce, burning as hard as she could straight from Thanatos Minor after trumpet." trumpet."

He spread his palms. "How smart do I have to be before I can guess what all that means?"

Alesha listened as if she were memorizing every word. "Tell me."

He couldn't suppress a smile. Sometimes he liked her so much that he wanted to laugh out loud. However, he didn't hesitate to answer her seriously.

"Succorso had a cargo the Amnion want back. He promised it to them so they would let him live, but then he diverted it to Billingate. He and Thermopyle stole it from the Bill-they've got it with them now.

"Naturally they don't want to hand it over to the cops. They want it for themselves. They're illegals-they won't do what the cops tell them unless someone holds a gun to their heads. At the same time they have no intention of facing an Amnion incursion on their own. For all they know, the ship after them is Calm Horizons. Calm Horizons. They wouldn't stand a chance against her, despite They wouldn't stand a chance against her, despite Trumpet's Trumpet's fancy equipment. So they leave a trail for fancy equipment. So they leave a trail for Punisher Punisher to follow. They're trying to keep the cruiser between them and that other ship. to follow. They're trying to keep the cruiser between them and that other ship.

"Punisher wants their cargo. And of course she doesn't want the Amnion to get it. But Hashi Lebwohl doesn't trust a mere UMCP cruiser for a job like that. He doesn't want the Amnion to get that cargo. He doesn't want Succorso and Thermopyle to keep it. And maybe-just maybe-he wants to keep it away from Min Donner. Maybe he doesn't like to think about what someone that pure will do with it. Whatever it is. wants their cargo. And of course she doesn't want the Amnion to get it. But Hashi Lebwohl doesn't trust a mere UMCP cruiser for a job like that. He doesn't want the Amnion to get that cargo. He doesn't want Succorso and Thermopyle to keep it. And maybe-just maybe-he wants to keep it away from Min Donner. Maybe he doesn't like to think about what someone that pure will do with it. Whatever it is.

"So he hires us."

"For insurance," Alesha put in softly.

"Insurance." Darrin nodded. "Exactly. He's paying us to cover his a.s.s."

He paused for a moment to let her examine the implications, then went on, "In other words, I don't think anyone is plotting against us. us. If Hash! Lebwohl is afraid of us because we 'know too much' about what happened on Thanatos Minor, he could have given If Hash! Lebwohl is afraid of us because we 'know too much' about what happened on Thanatos Minor, he could have given Punisher Punisher orders to take us out. Captain Ubikwe would have done it-he was itching for the chance. As far as ED is concerned, anybody who uses Cleatus Fane for cover must be illegal. orders to take us out. Captain Ubikwe would have done it-he was itching for the chance. As far as ED is concerned, anybody who uses Cleatus Fane for cover must be illegal.

"But Lebwohl didn't do that. Instead he offered us a contract. He told us about that homing signal. And he gave us what looks like a pretty complete rundown on Trumpet Trumpet's capabilities. He isn't worried about what we know or don't know. He can trust us to keep it to ourselves. And there's no other reason why he might want to get rid of us.

"What do you think?" he finished with a small smile. "Are we getting paid what the danger is worth?"

Alesha didn't answer immediately. Instead she countered, "That brings me back to my original question. What are you going to tell the bridge? As long as we're this far behind Trumpet Trumpet and and Punisher Punisher, we'll never fulfill our contract. We need to get ahead of them somehow-or between them, if we can't get ahead. But how can we do that? We don't know where they're going."

However, Darrin had a counter of his own ready. "As long as we're guessing, what do you suppose that cargo is?"

She lifted her shoulders. "I have no idea. I can't think of anything the Amnion would value low enough to let Succorso steal it, and yet high enough to risk an act of war to get it back."

He tightened his mouth so that he wouldn't grin. "You're worrying about reasons again. They're just smoke-they confuse the issue.

"What do we know about the cargo itself?" Because he liked explaining himself to Alesha, he didn't sound pedantic. "Succorso sent it toward Tranquil Hegemony Tranquil Hegemony in an ejection pod. What kind of cargo-what kind of treasure-fits in an ejection pod? in an ejection pod. What kind of cargo-what kind of treasure-fits in an ejection pod?

"Something physical, that's obvious. It isn't just data or secrets. And nothing raw or unprocessed. That wouldn't be worth an incursion into human s.p.a.ce." As if it had a mind of its own, his hand rose to his chest. He pulled it down firmly. "Some kind of equipment? A device? I don't think so. The Amnion can reproduce their own devices whenever they want-and they know we can't. Human methods can't replicate their technologies."

Alesha seemed able to study his face, watch him think, for hours at a time. "What's left?"

"Something organic," he replied promptly. "Something living. Maybe even something that needs an ejection pod's life support to survive."

He could be sure of this because he was sure of himself.

"Like what?" she asked.

"That doesn't matter." He waved both hands to dismiss the question. "We don't need to know. The point is that we can guess where Trumpet Trumpet is headed." is headed."

For a moment she frowned in confusion. Then her eyes widened, and she gave a sigh of recognition.

"Deaner Beckmann. The Lab. Because the cargo is organic."

Proud of her-and secretly pleased with himself-Darrin nodded firmly.

"So we're going to stop following this nice trail they've left us. Instead we're going to choose our own point of insertion into Ma.s.sif-5." He turned back to his board and indicated a spot in the schematic, even though she couldn't see it. "There. Which is about as risky a gap crossing as we can make and still plan on living through it."

His crew and his ship had done such things before, when circ.u.mstances required it. He trusted them. Nevertheless he spent a moment reconsidering his decision while he explained it.

"That will put us-oh, roughly a million k on the other side of Beckmann's swarm." If she could find a flaw in what he meant to do, he wanted her to say so now. "By the time we set it up-change course and velocity, go into tach, resume tard, pull back around to the swarm-we can be pretty sure we won't beat Trumpet Trumpet But we'll be hours ahead of But we'll be hours ahead of Punisher. Punisher.

"And we'll be in position. We can use the swarm for cover while we hunt Trumpet. Trumpet. If we're lucky, If we're lucky, Punisher Punisher won't even spot us there." won't even spot us there."

Once again he put his back to the board, waiting for Alesha's reaction.

"What about that other ship?" she asked.

He frowned thoughtfully. "That's a problem. We can't know where she is at this point. But here's how I see it.

"If she knows about the Lab-if she can guess Trumpet Trumpet is headed there-she isn't Amnion. She's a human ship working for them, maybe because she likes what they pay her." is headed there-she isn't Amnion. She's a human ship working for them, maybe because she likes what they pay her."

His mouth twisted ruefully. More than once he'd asked himself if he would accept a contract from the Amnion. Was his commitment to the code really as simple as he liked to believe? He didn't know. All his life he'd avoided the question by making sure the situation never arose.

"That means several things," he continued. "It means she doesn't carry as much firepower as a warship. Trumpet Trumpet might be able to survive an engagement. And it means she probably won't attack while might be able to survive an engagement. And it means she probably won't attack while Trumpet Trumpet is anywhere near the Lab. She won't want to have Beckmann's guns turned on her. Also she might not want him to know whose side she's on. is anywhere near the Lab. She won't want to have Beckmann's guns turned on her. Also she might not want him to know whose side she's on.

"If she's anywhere close enough to give us trouble, I think we'll have time to figure out what we want to do about her."

Alesha nodded as he finished, agreeing with him. Apparently she couldn't-find any flaws. Slowly one of her rare smiles grew across her face.

"Have I ever told you that I think you're good at this?"

Grinning, he drawled, "You've mentioned it from time to time. Not that I mind hearing it." Then he let the way he felt about her make him grave. "I just hope you're right. I'm not in the mood to do anything stupid. I like living too much."

Without warning, her eyes turned moist. Blinking, she dropped her gaze. "I know how you feel." At last she answered his earlier question. Are we getting paid what the danger is worth? "I'm growing old. That seems to make everything harder. I don't want to lose you."

Because he was the master of his vessel, responsible for her and all her people, he was tempted to say, Don't worry, you won't lose me. Whatever happens will happen to both of us. But he knew Alesha better than to offer her false comfort.

Instead he used his console intercom to talk to the bridge, give his orders. Then he went to bed.

He might not get another chance.

MIN.

Bobbing and weaving down the corridor, Min Donner fought to remember her zero-g reflexes and cursed Dolph Ubikwe for summoning her from her cabin. It was craziness to be out here, working her way along the pa.s.sages, when the klaxons might sound at any moment, warning her that she was about to be slammed to pulp on the ship's steel.

She'd been station-bound too long. And when she traveled, she was usually aboard ships with internal spin. She'd grown accustomed to comfortable g; to weight as well as ma.s.s; to environments where her nerves and even her veins knew which way was up. Punisher's Punisher's version of freefall-punctuated by abrupt jolts, hull roar, and pressure whenever the cruiser shifted course-was making her sick. version of freefall-punctuated by abrupt jolts, hull roar, and pressure whenever the cruiser shifted course-was making her sick.

Either that, or she'd become old without realizing it.

Punisher hadn't been designed to run this way. She fought without g, of course: centrifugal inertia restricted her maneuverability. But for other duties she'd been built to use spin. There were too many people aboard, engaged in too many different activities. They could all move and work, sleep and recreate more effectively when they were anch.o.r.ed by their own weight. hadn't been designed to run this way. She fought without g, of course: centrifugal inertia restricted her maneuverability. But for other duties she'd been built to use spin. There were too many people aboard, engaged in too many different activities. They could all move and work, sleep and recreate more effectively when they were anch.o.r.ed by their own weight.

But Captain Ubikwe had ordered the ship to secure for zero g so that she could catch up with Trumpet. Trumpet. Core displacement was distorting navigation across the gap. Each time Core displacement was distorting navigation across the gap. Each time Punisher Punisher resumed tard, she lost too much time reacquiring the gap scout's homing signal. And the displacement was getting worse. With every pa.s.sing hour, it became more and more likely that resumed tard, she lost too much time reacquiring the gap scout's homing signal. And the displacement was getting worse. With every pa.s.sing hour, it became more and more likely that Free Lunch Free Lunch or-was it or-was it Soar? Soar?-would reach Trumpet Trumpet first. If they knew or could guess where she was headed. first. If they knew or could guess where she was headed.

Punisher's crew had been sailing under what were, in effect, battle conditions for the better part of twenty-four hours before the cruiser achieved insertion into the Ma.s.sif-5 system. crew had been sailing under what were, in effect, battle conditions for the better part of twenty-four hours before the cruiser achieved insertion into the Ma.s.sif-5 system.

And now she had no choice except to go on without g. For ships moving at Punisher's Punisher's speed, and speed, and Trumpet's Trumpet's, Valdor Industrial's system was a lethal maze of obstacles and hazards. The added burden of centrifugal inertia was too dangerous.

Without Trumpet's Trumpet's homing signal to guide her, the encroaching ship from forbidden s.p.a.ce may well have lost the trail a long way back. But homing signal to guide her, the encroaching ship from forbidden s.p.a.ce may well have lost the trail a long way back. But Free Lunch Free Lunch might conceivably be ahead of might conceivably be ahead of Punisher. Punisher. Min couldn't begin to guess where the lies she'd been told ended. As far as she knew, it was perfectly possible that Hashi Lebwohl still controlled where Angus was headed, and had already pa.s.sed that information to Min couldn't begin to guess where the lies she'd been told ended. As far as she knew, it was perfectly possible that Hashi Lebwohl still controlled where Angus was headed, and had already pa.s.sed that information to Free Lunch. Free Lunch.

For that reason Punisher' Punisher's communications people were doing their best to break the code in which Warden Dios' message for Nick Succorso had been embedded.

Maybe those code-strings don't mean anything, Dolph had said. But if they do, I want to know it.

The cruiser urgently needed to understand what was going on.

In the meantime Punisher Punisher forged ahead Despite her far greater ma.s.s, the difficulties of reacquiring forged ahead Despite her far greater ma.s.s, the difficulties of reacquiring Trumpet's Trumpet's signal, and the effects of a truly unfortunate insertion into the system, Captain Ubikwe's command strove to keep up with the swift, agile gap scout. signal, and the effects of a truly unfortunate insertion into the system, Captain Ubikwe's command strove to keep up with the swift, agile gap scout.

It was craziness craziness for Min to be out of her cabin under these conditions. She should have stayed webbed into her bunk. But this wasn't the first crazy thing she'd done, when it needed doing. If she lived long enough, it wouldn't be the last. Dolph had chimed her intercom and summoned her. Without hesitation she'd unsealed herself to respond. for Min to be out of her cabin under these conditions. She should have stayed webbed into her bunk. But this wasn't the first crazy thing she'd done, when it needed doing. If she lived long enough, it wouldn't be the last. Dolph had chimed her intercom and summoned her. Without hesitation she'd unsealed herself to respond.

He wanted her to meet him in sickbay.

He hadn't offered her an escort, and she hadn't asked for one. She knew the way. And the fewer people who were exposed to this kind of danger, the better. It was bad enough that he took the same risk he asked of her.

Something had happened.

Again.

She didn't waste energy wondering what it was. Instead she concentrated on trying to regain her reflexes; on piloting herself down the corridor with as little wasted motion as possible.

The instant she heard the klaxons, she dove for the nearest handgrips; cleated her zero-g belt. The bridge crew would give the ship as much warning as they could, but sometimes that wasn't much. One grip in each fist, her back against the bulkhead, she waited for thrust to hammer her in some direction she couldn't predict and might not be able to survive.

Straight deceleration: she recognized it as soon as it hit. It wrenched her forward so hard that her aft hand pulled loose. If she hadn't attached her belt first, the sudden weight would have flipped her face-first into the wall. But the belt caught her; s.n.a.t.c.hed at her like the recoiling crack of a whip. Fortunately she remembered to go limp when her grip failed. Otherwise she might have ripped the muscles in her back.

Five seconds of hard burn. White lighting yawed across her field of vision, then cracked into bits of darkness. Her pulse moaned in her ears: her body twitched and jerked under the strain. Then it ended. She spent a moment bouncing back and forth across her belt's attachment while her ma.s.s dissipated its stored inertia.

At this rate she might need sickbay herself. She could already tell that some of these bruises were going to hurt. hurt.

Resting, she waited for the bridge to tell the rest of the ship what would happen next.

Another bleat of the klaxons: less intense than the first; shorter. Almost immediately forward thrust eased to life, firing the dark to regain lost velocity. Because this push was more gentle, it took longer; but after a couple of minutes the ship-wide intercom piped an all clear.

"Secure from collision stations," a woman's voice told the ship. "We have twenty-eight minutes until we start jockeying for position on the next obstacle. Use the time."

The intercom clicked silent like the sound of the carabiner on Min's zero-g belt as she undipped it from the bulkhead cleat. At once she kicked herself into motion again.

d.a.m.n it, Dolph, she muttered silently. What's the d.a.m.n hurry? Why couldn't you wait?

She knew, however, that Dolph had called her from his quarters rather than the bridge. Probably he'd been resting. When he'd asked her to meet him, he might not have been aware that Punisher Punisher was near a patch of open s.p.a.ce. was near a patch of open s.p.a.ce.

Grimly she wondered what the h.e.l.l was urgent enough to make him risk himself as well as her like this.

She saw a hint of the answer when she floated out of one of the main personnel lifts into the pa.s.sage which led to sickbay, twenty meters off to her right.

The corridor was festooned with g-hammocks: at least twenty-five of them arced at intervals up and down the wails on both sides of the entrance to sickbay. And they were all occupied. Sickbay itself had s.p.a.ce for ten, counting surgical tables as well as berths. This was the overflow.

Some kind of accident? Explosive decompression? Matter cannon attack? That wasn't possible. Min would have felt it. Any damage powerful enough to hurt this many people would have, sent shock waves of concussion and clamor throughout the ship.

Concentrating too hard to curse, she coasted past the hammocks; slapped the palm-plate which opened the sickbay doors. They slid shut automatically behind her as she entered.

Dolph was waiting for her inside, along with another man identified by his uniform and insignia as Punisher Punisher's medtech. They sat with their belts cleated to mobile stools which were slotted into tracks in the deck and run by servos so that sickbay's personnel could work under zero g or combat. The two tables were empty, but all eight of the bunks were in use.

The medtech saluted Min. "Director Donner." His id patch said "Foster." He sounded wan; stretched too thin.

"Hope you weren't hurt," Dolph grunted in greeting. "I didn't think this could wait until we hit clear s.p.a.ce."

Min returned Foster's salute from the anchor of a handgrip, but her attention was fixed on Dolph. "What's happened?"

He met her gaze for a moment, pursed his black lips. "A couple of things." Then his eyes slid down to the deck as if he was too tired to go on looking at her. "But let's take them one at a time." He gestured toward the medtech. "Foster."

"They aren't hurt, Director," Foster said on command. "I mean the ones outside. I couldn't monitor that many of them if they were, but they aren't. They're sick. I've"-he faltered briefly-"never seen anything like it."

From Min's perspective, he didn't seem old enough to have seen much of anything.

More than twenty-five of them? she protested to herself. What was this, some kind of epidemic? Resisting a surge of impatience, she asked, "Sick how?"

Foster shrugged like a wince. "Nausea. Vomiting. High blood pressure. Disorientation. Hallucinations." He glanced at Dolph as if he were hoping for confirmation, then added, "Five of them told me separately that the walls are leaning on them. Trying to squash them.

"None of them are in danger. They aren't sick enough to die. But the way they feel, they might prefer dying."

Nearly half the crew- Min growled through her teeth. "Sounds like they've been overdosing on stim and hype."

Tension clenched Dolph's shoulders; instinctive rejection. But he didn't interject a retort.

"Actually"-Foster gave another uncomfortable shrug-"it sounds like SAD. s.p.a.ce adjustment disorder," he explained unnecessarily. "The symptoms are cla.s.sic."

Because she feared that he might be right, she had to stifle an impulse to shout at him. "SAD?" Punisher Punisher was damaged, shorthanded, and worn-out. "A G.o.dd.a.m.n was damaged, shorthanded, and worn-out. "A G.o.dd.a.m.n epidemic epidemic of SAD?" The whole vessel had already suffered too much in this system. "On an experienced ship like this?" of SAD?" The whole vessel had already suffered too much in this system. "On an experienced ship like this?"

Now Dolph spoke. "That," he breathed heavily, "is the problem. You don't believe it. I don't either.

"Director Dormer"-he p.r.o.nounced her name and t.i.tle with special precision as his weary gaze rose to her face-"I think we have a sick-out on our hands."

Abruptly Foster slotted his stool away to one of the walls and began working at the main sickbay control panel, ostensibly checking the condition of his immediate patients. Apparently he agreed with his captain. Perhaps his sense of medical ethics barred him from saying so.