His lips tightened as he pushed away the thoughts of Corson, of the boy no longer a boy, who had inherited, as indicated in the cubes he received and reviewed quietly, his mother's height and father's strength.

Was he right to have let Allison raise him alone?

"And what would you have done? Carted him all over the galaxy? Settled on Scandia?"

He took another sip of tea.

Just because he had answers to all the questions did not mean he could lay either questions or answers to rest.

The woman in purple had entered shortly after he had, but had sampled a salad of some type, two mugs of cafe, and now stood to leave. Her face was familiar, and the former commodore suspected she was a government minister of some portfolio, just from her carriage.

The conversation to his right continued, with a trace more intensity and a fractionally reduced volume, as if the trio was getting to a critical point in negotiations.

Gerswin sat back, decided that he might as well return to the shuttle port for the trip to the orbital station. New Augusta was one of the handful of systems prohibiting deep-space ships or, for that matter, any non-Imperial shuttles from entering the planetary envelope.

The Caroljoy was docked in a magnetolocked position off station three beta.

Gerswin frowned. At some point, he suspected, it was going to be far too dangerous to travel to New Augusta in person. The time was coming when he and Lyr would have to work out other arrangements. Either that or he was going to have to develop a series of alternative personas with enough depth to pass all Imperial screening.

When it became more obvious who he was and what he was doing, if he continued as successfully as recently, he would doubtless develop both government and commercial opponents. He hoped that point was years or decades away.

He almost laughed, but repressed it, knowing how mocking it would sound in the dignified confines of the aristocratic Aurelian Club.

Instead, he eased himself out of the comfortable chair and around the table, nodding to the waiter.

"Very good, Commodore. Hope we will see you more often."

Surprisingly to him, the term "commodore" was not used with the condescension he had heard in the voices of even the staff of more than a few commercial barons.

"Never can tell, but thank you."

He took a last look around the circular room of less than ten tables, and at the group of three at the single occupied one remaining. Neither the woman nor the two men looked up from their discussion.

"Would you like transportation, Commodore?" asked the submanager at the front desk.

"Yes. That would be fine."

He might as well be heading back to the shuttle port.

While he waited for the electrocab, he studied the main foyer, pacing quietly from one side to the other.

Unlike many clubs, the Aurelian Club had no pictures of individuals anywhere, nor any listing of officers, nor any posting of rules. Gerswin wrinkled his forehead in concentration. Thinking about it, he could not recall any written captions anywhere within the club, except for the signatures on some of the paintings, a few of which he recognized as originals for which any number of collectors would have bid small fortunes.

"Transportation, Commodore."

"Thank you."

Gerswin went through the double portals quickly.

The electrocab was a shocking silver, radiating a light of its own bright enough to make Gerswin shake his head.

The outside doorman saw the gesture and smiled.

"Not exactly tasteful, set, but at this time of evening, they're mostly out for the nighters. This is conservative for that crowd."

Gerswin raised his eyebrows, but said nothing as he stepped into the backseat.

"Destination?" The inquiry was mechanical.

Gerswin tapped the code for Shuttle Port Beta into the small screen.

"Thank you. Please authorize the sum of ten Imperial credits."

Gerswin used the foundation card for the fare, since the purpose of the entire trip had been strictly for OERF reasons.

The electrocab hummed from the club portal and after less than a hundred meters dropped into the high speed tunnel that slashed diagonally under the city and toward the shuttle port.

He closed his eyes as he leaned back in the seat, but his thoughts did not come to a similar rest.

Should he continue his detailed tracing of the grants issued by the foundation? Was commercialization the only way to produce the products he needed on a wide enough scale? If so, how soon should he start trying to implement such projects?What about Corson? Was there a way to channel some of his considerable income from his own investments over the years to his son? Was it wise, given the trust fund already created? Would too much money without a purpose leave the boy, the young man really, adrift? Or make him a target of the unscrupulous?

What about Lyr? Was he being fair to her in piling more and more upon her? Were additional salary and appreciation sufficient?

"Destination approaching." The mechanical voice of the electrocab was almost a relief. Why was it that New Augusta triggered so many questions? Was it the memory of Caroljoy? Or was it that New Augusta symbolized what he must oppose and had not?

He sat up, eyes flicking toward the window to take in the increasing illumination as the vehicle slowed and completed the climb to the beta concourse.

As he stepped out into the even flow of bodies heading to or from the various shuttle gates, Gerswin wished he could have worn full-fade blacks. The sheer numbers handled by the Imperial shuttle ports always made him uneasy. Numbers could conceal so much.

His hands flicked to his belt, where the knives and sling leathers were still in place. He began to scan the crowd while his steps carried him toward the less crowded section of the port that served private ships and travellers.

Most of the crowd were commercial or in-system travellers, which was the case at most ports throughout the Empire. Few indeed could afford the high cost of either a private ship or interstellar passage.

The majority of travellers were human. He caught sight of a single Ursan, flanked by an Imperial Marine honor guard, and two Edelians, looking more like walking sunflowers than the sentient beings they were.

While he should have faxed ahead, he had not, assuming that the shuttle to station three beta would lift on a recurring and regular schedule. The departure portal was closed, with the message board flashing.

"Next shuttle to beta three in fifty-five standard minutes. Please insert your access card for your shuttle seat. Ten seats remain."

Gerswin took his permanent squarish pass from his pouch and inserted it.

The message board changed to fifty-three minutes and nine seats remaining.

Satisfied that he could do no more for the moment, he turned to head back to the main terminal lounge for a place to sit down. His steps clicked on the hard tiles, the sound echoing through the predawn lull of the nearly deserted section of the port terminal.

A scraping sound, barely a whisper, rustled ahead of him, as if someone had brushed the archway to the public fresher three meters ahead of him on his right. The clarity of the faint sound bothered Gerswin, and he edged his steps toward the far left-hand side of the five-meter-Aide corridor.

As he drew abreast of the fresher entrance, he saw the shadow of a man, presumably about to leave, but the shadow did not move as the retired commodore continued onward.

Gerswin glanced over his shoulder as he entered the main lounge area, with its circles of padded seats mostly vacant. Behind him walked a heavyset businessman carrying a black sample case, his expression blank, as if his thoughts were systems away.

Gerswin sat down in the middle of a three-seat row, facing the direction from which the businessman had come. In turn, the heavy, brown-haired man slumped into a seat perhaps three meters away and to Gerswin's right. He did not look at Gerswin, but opened the case in his lap and pulled a folder from it.

A smile quirked the devilkid's lips.

For whatever reason, the man was looking for Gerswin. His build ruled him out as a Corpus Corps type, which meant he was either an intelligence operative for some out-system government, for an out-of-the-way Imperial bureaucracy, or a private operative contracted to find Gerswin.

Gerswin dismissed government intelligences immediately. Out-system governments would not send operatives into New Augusta, particularly after obscure and retired commodores, and all the Imperials had to do was to monitor his reservation on the shuttle and wait for him at the lock to his ship.

Since the man had required a clear look at Gerswin and a comparison of facial profiles, that further supported the fact that he was representing a nongovernment source. And since the operative was on New Augusta, whoever hired him had money.

Gerswin pursed his lips.

The Guild?

That meant trouble he had not anticipated this early.

The commodore sat relaxed, waiting, letting the minutes pass as he watched the watcher without obviously doing so.

Finally Gerswin stood and stretched, then ambled toward the still open dining area. Coincidentally, his path would take him by the seat occupied by his hunter.

The man unhurriedly closed his case and stood, adjusting his tunic, and fiddling with the case itself. He turned as Gerswin neared, and his face screwed up as if in recognition.

"Commander Gerswin?"

Gerswin looked puzzled in turn, but said nothing, although he stopped where he stood.

"Don't you remember me? Lazonbly, from the Valeretta?"

"Can't say I do. But what could I do for you?"

Gerswin wondered how far he could push before the operative panicked.

Lazonbly stepped closer and shook his head, as if he could not really believe it was Gerswin. "You haven't changed at all."

Gerswin smiled. "Who's paying the Guild for this?"

Lazonbly blinked, but only once. "I don't believe I understand."

"Lazonbly died in Feralta ten years ago. The Guild has accepted a contract on me. I'd like to know who your client is, not that you'd know."

"I'm afraid I don't understand, Commander."

"Very good. Very good. You realize I know you can't use long range energy weapons here. Standard knife or laser cutter?"

Lazonbly moved his arm, showing a glint of blue. "Laser cutter, Commodore. Shall we go?"

"At least you've dropped the pretenses." Gerswin stepped back so quickly that Lazonbly could not react without appearing obvious. "As you wish. Toward which dark corridor?"

"The public fresher serving beta three. You first."

"How about side by side?"

"You first." Lazonbly's voice remained jovial.

"Rather not." Gerswin eased back slightly as he disagreed.

"Commodore, don't force the issue."

"And what do I have to lose? You don't want your kill recorded on the public monitors. You've obviously taken care of the monitors on that corridor. So why should I go with you?"

"Because you think you might have some chance of getting away." Lazonbly shifted his weight in an attempt to move closer to Gerswin.

"And you're willing to gamble on that?" asked Gerswin.

"No gamble."

"No, it's not." Gerswin frowned. "Lazonbly, where did you get your orders?"

"Haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about, Commodore. Not the faintest. But you talk well, especially for a man of your advanced age. Rejuvs may give you back muscle and appearance, but they don't improve old reflexes. So . . . shall we go?"

"I see you are rather hard to reason with." Gerswin smiled. He half turned and walked away from Lazonbly in even steps, toward the corridor the operative had indicated.

The heavyset man followed easily, trying to close the gap between the two without making it too obvious.

Gerswin let the other approach, glancing over his shoulder and listening for a change in breathing patterns or steps. He would rather have faced the Guild assassin down in the lounge except for one thing-the Imperial inquest, which would doubtless have delayed his departure long enough for another Guild assassin to strike.

As he walked, Gerswin slipped the leather thongs and rounded stones from his belt.

The corridor narrowed as the two men neared the three beta concourse, then made a gentle left turn.

Gerswin decided Lazonbly would move as soon as they were screened from the other monitors. He readied the thongs of the sling.

Click. Click.

Gerswin threw himself to the left, rolled, and came up with the thongs whirling.

Thunk!

Thud!

Lazonbly's body pitched forward onto the tiles, his face as impassive in death as it had been in life. The laser cutter lay centimeters from his hand.

Gerswin walked away after pocketing the round stone, not looking back. There was nothing to connect him to Lazonbly, and nothing on Lazonbly to connect him either to Gerswin or to the Guild.

And there was no record anywhere of one Commodore Gerswin's proficiency with the sling weapons of Old Earth, let alone anyone on New Augusta who would deduce with certainty the exact cause of death of the Guild agent. Gerswin had no doubt "Lazonbly" was at least noted as a potential Guild agent in Imperial files.

He turned the last corner. Several other shuttle passengers now waited near the portal, obviously ready to board the same shuttle on which Gerswin was booked.