"I got proof," she said, waggling the print-recorder before she pa.s.sed it over to him. "And do you have a schematic of the Station? I got some other locations I want to get down before I forget 'em."

With no hesitation, Boris flipped a sheet from under other hard copy on his desk and flipped it to her.

"Been here," and she grabbed a marker and circled the point. "Seven deck, room 7299A, and it'd be interesting to know what it's officially used for because Flimflam made it a dressing room c.u.m food stash, liquor for bribes, tools, and too many vacuum-packed gimmicks for me to identify."

Boris let her make her notations. With a final flourish she marked the one at the boat bay. "You'll want to send a security team up there muy p.r.o.nto, boss. Ottey's going to love it. Mind you, the Epoxy 34AS-9 container is empty but that was the one bit of alleged sabotage equipment I could recognize. Smell of the stuff might still make a sensor jump." She pointed to her markings. "These are places-as near as I can estimate-where he must have other drops. He put an aide-memoire on the back of the door of room 7299A." She grinned sardonically.

Boris leaned to one side of his worktop, flipped open the comm, and gave the number. When he had Ottey on-line, he gave crisp requests that were more orders than suggestions to search 7299A and the boat bay storage locker. He paused, listening to a question that was probably just as crisp, if Ca.s.s knew Ottey, and turned back to her.

"D'you know where he is right now?"

She twitched a shoulder as she sprawled into a chair. "He had a.s.sumed his lowly janitorial persona when he exited 7299A. Once I saw what was inside, I took prints and investigated the one location I was reasonably sure of finding-the boat bay. He's real worried." She paused to grin maliciously and then sat forward abruptly. "Oh, tell Ottey that the ventilator shaft in the boat bay site was open, steps up to it and all. I took good prints before I had a look. Must have used small guys or ones with narrow shoulders. Flimflam is a little too broad across the chest."

"They're on their way," Boris said, closing the connection.

"I felt it was wiser to report back to you once I'd ascertained the nature of the boat bay location," she went on, receiving a positive nod from her boss, "rather than try to discover his current whereabouts. I also found these." She withdrew the tangle of ID wristbands and let them casually fall from her fingers to the worktop.

Eyes widening with dismay, Boris grabbed the nearest one and popped it into the security clearance unit on one side of his desk. "Lieutenant Schafer, Supply?" Even as he repeated the name of its wearer, the printout informed Boris that Schafer had been transferred three years ago. He picked up another. "Commander Uskar, Engineering?" For the past two years, Uskar had been teaching at Newport Naval Base.

"I wonder Flimflam ever bothered to sleep in that cell of his," Ca.s.s observed wryly. "Though I guess that once in a while he had to be where he was supposed to be. Those first two IDs would have given him access to wherever he wanted to be. From what I saw stashed away, he could change service branch and ident.i.ty any time he needed to."

Boris did not bother with the rest of the bands. He reopened the comlink. "Roznine again. Bindra? Ottey's already gone, has he? Excellent. Something else has come up, if you'd be so kind as to step down to my office?"

Ca.s.s grinned. When the LEO Commissioner spoke in that tone, "be so kind" meant like right now! Ca.s.s wondered just how Flimflam had acquired them in the first place, since such IDs were worn constantly-by their legitimate owners-and were hard to replicate; perhaps not for a scam artist like Albert Ponce. Or had he just switched counterfeits for the originals?

"For someone supposedly limited to one section of Padrugoi, he certainly had the freedom of the Station," Boris remarked at his drollest.

"What else could you expect from someone like Flimflam?" Ca.s.s could objectively admire the man's ingenuity and resourcefulness.

"I do not care to speculate," Boris said repressively, but Ca.s.s was not intimidated and grinned back. "What I find somewhat surprising is that he didn't try to leave the Station."

"Well paid to stay aboard until it was worth his while to leave?" Ca.s.s asked with an innocent expression on her face. "He's been up here long enough to explore the indigenous opportunities to the fullest. And he was involved in the White-Coat Mutiny, wasn't he?" She pointed to the secret caches she'd put on the schematic.

"He was, but only peripherally. Barchenka was no fool and he lost privileges, supporting her." Boris frowned, fingering his lower lip thoughtfully. "LEO is going to have to follow different avenues of investigation."

Ca.s.s knew he was thinking about personnel. LEO was always short of the right kind of personnel, which was one reason she had drawn this duty.

"International LEO already has cooperated with surveillance on Shimaz's relatives; those who have been up here, at least, for one reason or another, including one Ahmin Duvachek, who demanded a formal Health and Welfare appointment to ascertain if our facility was according Mr. Albert Ponce his human rights." Boris's expression was ironic.

"Ahh!" Ca.s.s drawled the syllable out. "You do remember, don't you, boss, that Flimflam was not the brains behind the child-farming scheme."

"All too true but we haven't been able to establish if Shimaz is involved in this mess. Though I remind you that he did work with Barchenka."

"Maybe he's bankrolling it?"

"Haven't traced credit transfers yet. Though Kibon does regularly transfer credits downside. He has relatives, too."

Ca.s.s opened her eyes wide. "All G.o.d's chillun got relatives."

"Credit going out doesn't worry me as much as credit coming in, and we haven't found that yet. It'll be interesting to see what Flimflam has secreted away at these points." Boris tapped Ca.s.s's marks.

"Nasty man, Shimaz, waiting so long to get back at Peter."

"Not just Peter. They've been after General Greene a while, too, but he's slippery. And confidentially, Ca.s.s, this is not the first time Peter's been at risk since he became an official Center employee."

She was clearly startled by that admission. "You mean, those clowns on his birthday?"

Boris nodded. "The Faithful Brotherhood of whatever-it-was has now been traced back to one of Flimflam's Religious Interpretation Groups."

"Really! Has anyone tried for Tirla?" Ca.s.s asked, sitting bolt upright on the chair, half-afraid, half-resentful that the girl she had rescued nearly six years ago might be at risk again. Roznine's sisterin-law, Tirla, had been more involved with Flimflam and Shimaz than Peter was.

"Oh, that one," and Boris's expression was affectionately droll. "She suspects there have been quite a few attempts. She has a finely tuned sixth sense of survival." A small smile of approval turned up the comers of Roznine's generous mouth. "It's only recently that we have correlated those incidents as perhaps part of a larger plot for revenge."

"Barchenka didn't know her," her," Ca.s.s exclaimed, puzzled. Ca.s.s exclaimed, puzzled.

"We don't know that Construction Manager Barchenka is involved at all-bar having had brief visits from two of Shimaz's relations. We're trying to find out if Ahmin Duvachek is related or connected in some way to her. Though it takes little imagination to see why she certainly would enjoy getting back at Peter and John Greene."

"That's fer d.a.m.ned sure, boss." Then she rose. "How's Ranjit doing? I haven't caught even a twitch from him."

Boris pursed his lips, but his light blue eyes were amused. "He's following a different line of investigations, working undercover."

She nodded acceptance of the tacit injunction. "Then I'd better get back to turning over every slimy stone in the facility. I shouldn't want that Flimflam got word we were looking for him and hide someplace he didn't mark on that door map."

"Keep your mind wide open, Ca.s.s."

"And my shields up." She slipped out the door and was gone, moments before Bindra tapped on his door.

Ottey contacted Bindra in Roznine's office and informed them that the boat bay storage locker indeed contained items that could be identified as used in the sabotage of Limo-34 Limo-34. It was being cleared of the evidence. Surveillance equipment had been installed as well as a fast-acting proximity-triggered gas device that would immobilize anyone who entered the locker from either the ventilator shaft or the door. A second team was already dealing with room 7299A and installing similar arrangements.

Boris and Bindra then brought the ID bands to Admiral Coetzer. Controlling his consternation, the admiral instructed Bindra to investigate possible safeguards against future theft and to initiate discreet spot ID checks. It was determined that Lieutenant Schafer and Commander Uskar had turned in the bands they wore on the day of departure downside and no one had thought to see if the bands were legitimate before destroying them, as per regulations. The two officers would have received new IDs on arriving at their new posts.

The admiral contacted the First Base comm officer for a secured line to General Greene and was informed that he was currently in conference with Colonel Watari.

"Put me through, please."

When Johnny came on, Dirk Coetzer briefly reported what had just been discovered.

"One thing sure, Dirk, there's no way Shimaz can move around First Base that easily," Johnny said.

"He's under twenty-four-hour surveillance," Watari said, subtly criticizing Padrugoi's security. "He's banded so he can't get out of his cell without setting off a general alarm."

"That's rea.s.suring," Coetzer replied at his blandest. "Johnny, get yourself and Pete back here as soon as possible."

"Maybe we're safer here," Johnny had the impudence to remark.

"As you can well imagine, General," the admiral replied at his most formal, "we are going to review security measures relating to convicts serving sentences onstation." He glanced over at Boris who inclined his head, accepting that contingency. "However," the admiral went on, "I do appreciate that Flimflam is an unusual operator. We've had no more than minor disciplinary incidents with anyone else."

"It only takes one," Bindra remarked through gritted teeth.

"Do not, I repeat, General, do not advise anyone of your ETA."

"Gotcha, Admiral," was Johnny's rejoinder, and then First Base signed off.

"I shall have a word with the attorney general, Admiral," Boris said. "Meanwhile, Ms. Cutler is trying to find Flimflam's current whereabouts."

"When she does, I'll have him arrested," Bindra said.

"No," and the admiral lifted one hand. "If Ms. Cutler can keep track of him, it might be more interesting to see what he'll do next."

"Only if he doesn't try to revisit one of his depots," Bindra said.

"A point, Admiral, Commander," Boris began. "Ms. Cutler mentioned that he had been wearing communications tabs. Let's run the CIC tapes and see if he turns up. Or a request for any information on Limo-34 Limo-34 by anyone onstation." by anyone onstation."

"All contact with First Base has been on secured lines," Dirk Coetzer said and then began to smile. "How about if we just leak some misinformation and see how Flimflam reacts." He leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers in antic.i.p.ation.

Wake up, Pete. Johnny's voice interrupted his dream of spinning asteroids and gibbous leering planets that enlarged and diminished like balloons. Johnny's voice interrupted his dream of spinning asteroids and gibbous leering planets that enlarged and diminished like balloons.

"Whaaat?" Peter found it hard to rouse himself. It seemed as if he'd only just got to bed.

That's right and now you gotta be out of it, packed, and ready when Nina knocks on your door.

Why? Peter demanded as he was levitating himself off the bed. Peter demanded as he was levitating himself off the bed.

Because we're packing our tents like the Arabs and slipping away, Johnny said with mischief in his mental tone Johnny said with mischief in his mental tone. Get a move on. She's nearly there. You don't want Nina catching you in the altogether, do you?

Peter drew in anindignant breath, suppressing the twinge tohis chest. One didn't feel feel vanity; it was imagination. vanity; it was imagination.

Just kidding, and for once Johnny sounded repentant. and for once Johnny sounded repentant.

Peter did not dally, though he took the time to change his appliance, as it was full enough to be emptied. He was dressed and inserting the last pencil file into his carryall when he heard a very light rap on the door.

"I'm coming," he said, gliding to it and opening it to see the corporal looking unfairly wide-awake and as pretty as ever, brown eyes bright despite the hour. He envied her exuberance.

She pointed in the direction they were to go and started off in a quiet jog trot, Peter increasing his forward motion and surrept.i.tiously knuckling sleep out of his eyes. He hadn't even had time to wash his face.

Where are we going, Johnny? She just pointed, Peter said in complaint. Peter said in complaint.

Back to Padrugoi with all possible steam and secretivity.

There's no such word. Why? How? I didn't think the Limo was ready yet. It's two in the morning, Johnny.

There are other vehicles. Flimflam's been a heavy operator on Padrugoi and there's now proof that he was involved in the sabotage of the 34. I'm taking no risks with you.

I am not, I repeat, I am not, Peter said in a fierce tone, not, Peter said in a fierce tone, driving us back to Padrugoi. driving us back to Padrugoi. Even if I think I could, he added very, very privately to himself. Perhaps it was just as well that they were going back to the Station. He doubted he could have talked Watari, or Opitz, into allowing him another look through the telescopes. Not that Padrugoi didn't have access to the Farside 'scopes. Now that he knew what he was looking for, he'd be able to have time on those FSTs more easily there than here. Watari would want to know why. Even if I think I could, he added very, very privately to himself. Perhaps it was just as well that they were going back to the Station. He doubted he could have talked Watari, or Opitz, into allowing him another look through the telescopes. Not that Padrugoi didn't have access to the Farside 'scopes. Now that he knew what he was looking for, he'd be able to have time on those FSTs more easily there than here. Watari would want to know why.

I, on the other hand, Johnny continued, oblivious to Peter's private ruminations and responding to his emphatic statement of intent, Johnny continued, oblivious to Peter's private ruminations and responding to his emphatic statement of intent, do not wish that you should waste your valuable energy and any calories on this trip. I personally handpicked the pa.s.sengers coming back on the Limo-28, since Watari wouldn't let me take it without any. I pulled rank and got Xiang Liu as pilot, though he wasn't next up on the roster Watari conceded that choice because he wants us off First Base even faster than Dirk wants us back. Catchya when you get here. do not wish that you should waste your valuable energy and any calories on this trip. I personally handpicked the pa.s.sengers coming back on the Limo-28, since Watari wouldn't let me take it without any. I pulled rank and got Xiang Liu as pilot, though he wasn't next up on the roster Watari conceded that choice because he wants us off First Base even faster than Dirk wants us back. Catchya when you get here.

Peter felt Johnny close the mental connection. If they were to be taking off shortly, Johnny would be doing preflight checks with Xiang.

Nina Hinojosa was leading him through Babe Ruth Block; no angry pulse at this time of night, so even Shimaz slept. They encountered on-duty officers, nodding as they pa.s.sed, but stayed on the lower level, moving toward the old, original Lunar Base building. Nina paused at the steel doors across the final segment and inserted her security pa.s.s. She motioned him to follow quickly through the irising portal as soon as there was s.p.a.ce enough for her. She waited almost impatiently for him to follow. He'd had half a mind to levitate himself headfirst through it.

An arrow on the wall told him they were heading toward B Lock. The hallway, which connected the Base to the airlock, was empty but he could smell sweat and other odors that indicated it had recently been occupied. They went up the steps of the accordion tunnel sealed to the open hatch of the 28. Nina stopped.

"Here you are, sir. It's been a pleasure to meet you," she said with a salute. Then she smiled up at him, her dark eyes sparkling.

He had no right to return the salute. Surprising himself, he bent quickly and planted a kiss on her cheek before whirling himself on board. He nearly ran Johnny Greene over and devoutly hoped that the general had not seen him kiss the corporal.

"In you git, lad," Johnny said, hauling Peter in by a handful of the coverall. "We're outta here." With a farewell nod to Nina, he tapped the closing sequence of the hatch. "Okay, Xiang. He's aboard."

Secure your stuff in bunk ten. Same one, but a different and much safer safer bird. Then join me forward. I saved you a good seat. bird. Then join me forward. I saved you a good seat.

Peter did as he was bid and murmured a greeting to Xiang Liu as he took his takeoff seat.

"Bad penny turns up," he said.

Xiang smiled. "Good penny to have onboard."

A red light flashed off into green on the control panel, the signal that Nina was safely inside the departure room and the airlock secured on the Base side. The retractable access tunnel was pulling away. Another red light switched to green and they were completely disconnected from the Base.

Without touching more than surface thoughts, Peter felt the antic.i.p.ation of the pa.s.sengers behind and beside him. One and all were delighted to be going "home" although one and all were slightly annoyed by the unexpected hour of departure. Most were enlisted personnel or civilians and the single officer was not one whom Peter had met in his whirlwind visit to First Base.

Peter couldn't feel much motion but the view out the front window altered as the Limo was taxied to the takeoff site. Peter could feel the buildup of power, so different from the drop-off exit from Padrugoi.

He heard the formal exchanges between Lieutenant Xiang Liu and First Base and only briefly wished himself in the engineer's position. He'd done it once, when it mattered the most, when Johnny was pilot. He was not entirely sure that he was glad to be just a pa.s.senger this time, but he was tired.

"Our status is go," an unfamiliar voice said; whoever was engineer this trip. "Mr. Liu, are we scheduled for a standard lunar departure?"

"That is correct. First Base, are we green for go?"

"You are green for go on our computers, Limo-28," Limo-28," and Peter recognized Watari's voice. and Peter recognized Watari's voice.

"We have a green for go," Xiang Liu reported, and Peter could hear the relief in the man's voice.

As the Limo blasted off, Peter felt the pressure pushing him into the chair padding. He thought he preferred the easier takeoff from Padrugoi, although the surge of the rockets was exciting. For the s.p.a.ce of the ascent, he almost felt his bones pressing against the skin of his back. This trip to the Moon had made him quite fanciful. He'd be glad to be back on solid Padrugoi.

13.

Back on Padrugoi, Ranjit Youssef and Shandin Ross were patiently engaged in that most boring of investigative tasks: reviewing the entrance and exit tapes and cards of every visitor to Padrugoi since that security measure had been initiated under Barchenka, when the main stem of the Station had become operational. Thousands were grunts on work duty from the Linears and other overcrowded and underemployed urban areas around the world. Barchenka had not played favorites, at least at that level. Too many of the names the two men checked came up MIS, missing in s.p.a.ce. That designation would alter-due to the Talents' vigilance-as they worked their way through to the Inauguration. However, Ranjit and Shandin, sipping quant.i.ties of coffee and sugary substances, had not reached that far yet in their survey. They had had, for their purposes, to isolate the various ethnic groups by nationality, trying to find some lead to Shimaz and/or Albert Ponce and/or Barchenka. They had to establish who was still employed by the Station and from which ethnicity. If Flimflam had waited six years to take revenge, others could have been planted, too.

They did have a few leads: relatives of Shimaz-Riz Naztuk, Zehra bint Arrof, and Spaz Zenoun. The first was an uncle, actually ten years younger than the Prince. Riz was a minor emba.s.sy official, a.s.signed to Jerhattan after Shimaz's conviction. Zehra was a first cousin and had been implicated in some minor local government fraud but her family connections saved her from conviction. Spaz had a younger brother who had been sentenced to the Lunar Prison for terrorist activities and the ma.s.sacre of over four hundred people in various bombings. Spaz had also worked on Padrugoi and was, by trade, an electrician. Padrugoi reemployed such technicians for short-term work since they were already familiar with the Station. Spaz was one such. And the Ahmin Duvachek link.

Naztuk, bint Arrof, and Zenoun had been logged on the Station frequently but, as Ranjit discovered, much more frequently in the last year. Duvachek had come only the once, but once might have been enough.