No need to keep up the charade that the vehicle needed constant monitoring.

"You might learn all that in the World Council Forces. Like me," Jordan said. "You learn it after years of fighting in those pissant shoot-out wars that seem to be the new normal on Earth. Weapons use. Strategy. Tactics. Marksmanship. Special Ops. The WC teaches its troopers well."

Now Jordan looked away.

"Kind of like ... after all that ... you're not much good for anything else?"

Jordan nodded, his mouth a straight line.

Annie nodded, thinking: Jesus, I've learned more about my gunner in the last few minutes than from years of him riding shotgun with me.

"And the other way?" she said, breaking the lengthening silence.

Jordan's face tightened. As if he didn't like the word ... or the implications ... or the fact that it was most likely the correct option.

"Runners."

"What? You think he's a Runner?"

"Not just any Runner. Someone key. The way he took command of the retreat-"

"A Runner, traveling with us."

The idea sank in slowly.

"And if he's who I think he is ... and if Runners unleashed those warrows like unloading a crate of rats on a ship ... if Runners are active along this route, following us, following him-"

"Or leading us on," Annie said as the realization hit her like a cold slap in the face.

"Then I'd say we're heading into a load of shit, Annie."

It was her turn to take a deep breath. Thinking ... trying to absorb what Jordan had just said. His logic was damned good unless- Unless you're getting paranoid ...

But the more she thought about it, the more sense it made.

So where did that leave her?

Gage. Either a WC vet ... or someone who had trained with the Runners, a paramilitary group using the same techniques, the same weapons, skills, tactics.

Finally: "So what do we do?"

"We have to do something."

Annie nodded.

And try not to rattle Rodriguez, not if he has any information that could be relevant.

"I've been running facial scans from the WC data banks, but so far, no matches," Jordan said.

"He might have had some reconstructive surgery," she said.

Jordan nodded.

"Let me mull it over. But you keep running through the files. See if you get a match."

Jordan nodded, and then, for a few moments, they both sat quietly.

Ruth leaned over to Gage, Touched his arm. It was thrilling to her ... how solid it felt.

He turned to her slowly, eyes narrow slits.

"Can I tell you something?" she asked.

He nodded.

"I was scared back there. Terrified about what was going on. I could barely breathe. Or move. I've never ... never been so scared."

"It happens."

"I know. Or at least I've heard about how dangerous the Road is, but when she"-Ruth indicated Sinjira, sitting a few seats ahead, curled up, maybe sleeping-"wanted to open the door with everyone running, and those ... those things chasing you, I screamed-"

The fear still twisted inside her, but instead of screaming now, Ruth lowered her voice. Barely a whisper: "-for her to shut the door."

She looked down, but Gage hadn't looked away. "I was so scared. But now I'm just embarrassed. That was wrong. I mean-"

Gage took a slow breath.

"Look, people do stupid things when they get scared."

Is that what you think I am? Stupid ... and weak?

"Fear's probably the biggest motivator for people. Makes 'em do things they don't think they'd normally do-until there's a crisis. I'm sure if we hadn't gotten to the door in time-"

"But you did."

"Yeah. We got lucky, maybe, but I'm sure you would have gotten the door open and done whatever else was necessary."

Ruth nodded, not entirely convinced.

"It ain't healthy to deal in hypotheticals."

She wanted to believe she would have risen to the occasion and done what had to be done despite her fears. Even if there had only been seconds, she would have opened the door despite the risk.

"Yeah," she said. "I hope I would have."

Gage smiled.

Ruth looked at him, feeling genuine tenderness. This man who had gone out there and saved everyone now suddenly so gentle in the quiet of the passengers' cabin.

"See?" he said. "Even when you're afraid, frozen-we all have our limits. That time when we will act. No matter what."

Another smile.

"So no more blame. Okay?"

She smiled back at him, glad that he could make her feel so much better about herself.

"And another thing," she said.

He nodded.

"What about you? What about your fears? What did it take for you to go out there and face those ... those monsters?"

She watched his eyes narrow. A different kind of question, and now his face registered ... what?

Caution? Reticence? Maybe he didn't like to talk about his own fears.

Or ... was it a secret?

"Why weren't you afraid?"

A nod. Then another quick smile.

"Oh, I was afraid. Be crazy not to be. I guess I ... I used that fear so I could do what I had to do."

Ruth nodded. "It's as simple as that?"

Gage nodded. "Sometimes the simple answer is the right one."

And then he turned away, maybe because the conversation had turned, she thought, uncomfortable for him.

And now it was over ... along with that brief moment of tenderness.

Nahara felt his side.

The bandages tight, and the wound no longer oozing blood.

The pain, though, even with a strong local anesthetic, was a constant reminder that the creature had come so close to tearing him apart.

They could put on a layer of Nu Skin right now, he knew. But if the next station wasn't too far away-only a couple of hours-then he agreed with the captain that it was best to wait.

No imminent danger of infection.

And he could deal with the discomfort.

He looked over at Rodriguez, who had been shaken like a rag doll by the gunner. His eyes were shut; but Nahara guessed that he wasn't sleeping.

Probably just pretending so no one would talk to him.

Or was he in shock from the nightmare they had just experienced?

Nahara thought again about what he was carrying.

The Data Crystal and what it contained. Its value, its amazing worth.

His paranoia had ebbed during the melee at the station. But now, sitting so quietly, it returned-the fear of discovery, the panicked thoughts of what he would do if caught.

Wondering now if it was at all worthwhile.

He looked again at the scientist, who was faking it ... or not.

And he decided that maybe closing his own eyes and sitting quietly, pushing aside his worries would be the best thing to do.

That is, if he could.

Annie turned in her seat.

"Okay. I say we ask him directly if he served in the WC."

Jordan nodded.

"And if not?" Annie frowned. "We ask him where he learned to be such a good shot. Could be other explanations."

"Possibly."

"There are how many Earth-based terrorist groups? Highly trained and funded. He could be with one of them."

"Doubt it, though," Jordan said.

"Anyway-that's no better than him being a Runner."

Again, all Jordan did was nod.

"Either way, we need to find out. Maybe we can talk to him privately, bring him up here."

"He still has that gun."

"I know," Annie said. "We should have gotten it back under lock and-"

"That's another thing," Jordan said. "How'd he get the gun locker open?"

"We'll have to ask him that when we talk to him."