She shook her head. "Only as a temporary thing. He's taken, that way, and that's included in our understand- ing. But she's off-planet and won't be back for a while.

So, until then-"

"You're not planning to stay on Tilara, though."

**I don't know. Maybe until Tarleton returns here. Cer- tainly Fro not going back to ap Fenn's little empire."

"Makes sense." He would have said more, but the room's door opened. Outside, back from it, stood Vertan.

He threw off his robe and tossed it to one side, out of sight, and walked in naked.

"I believe," he said, "that Admiral Karsen ap Fenn arranged that my garment carry an eye-ear, a tracer device. Without its presence, we can talk to better effect."

He closed the door,

Barton ignored the outstretched hand. "Just a minute."

Holding a fold of his robe up to hide his face, he opened the door and went outside the room. Vertan's robe lay on the floor; with his free hand. Barton felt around its hem, and found a lump that didn't belong there, with a tiny "eye" protruding. A metal ornament on a shelf looked sturdy enough; with it. Barton pounded the lump until he could feel only loose fragments through the cloth. The

366.

ornament showed no damage; he replaced it and went back into the room. "I killed the thing, Vertan. Simpler that way. Now let's shake hands."

And now, joining the rest of Barton's gang. they could talk, too. First order of business was to settle on a better hideout, and soon. While ap Fenn's people couldn't just barge in on Vertan without going through some formalities, Barton gathered, Vertan couldn't stall the admiral off in- definitely. Limila asked and got permission to make a call. The voice-view terminal was in another room; when she came back, she said, "I have spoken with Tevann.

His guest-space building is empty now, and can accom-'

modate most of us. If this is all right. Barton?"

Tevann-Limila's most needful person, years ago, be- fore the Demu had taken her. But now with someone else; Tevann had told Barton the name, when they met once at a party, but Barton couldn't remember, "Sure,"

he said. "If we're welcome, that's fine."

"Good," she said. "This is in another town, not far from here, and adjoining a smaller, auxiliary spaceport."

Vertan added some information. Tarleton's fleet hadn't quite taken over all of the main port, but still .a lesser one had been opened, to handle the overflow. Ap Fenn insisted on sole usage, so all other space traffic now went to the auxiliary.

"I wonder what happens if the big ship comes?" said Arleta Fox, then put a hand to cover --her mouth, and shook her head. "Cancel that. I'm not even supposed to know, let alone say."

"You've already spilled, Arlie, that there is something.**

Barton said it quietly. Because he knew she didn't mean the great ship on Sisshain. Because there was no way she could have heard of it. So he said, "You're off the Agency payroll now, ever since you jumped ship.

So what's the setup?"

She really didn't know all that much about it. Barton decided after a while. But the Agency had another project on the boards, begun a little before Tarleton's fleet left Earth, and as usual the left hand wasn't giving" the right hand the time of day. "It's a big ship, though," she said.

"I saw the assembly building-just a huge box to hide it.

And it's supposed to be a new principle, a drive that's tremendously faster than your ships, or ap Fenn's."

New principle? From having talked with the lab boys,

367 I '.

Barton doubted it. Still, though, somebody might have come up with the idea of multiplexing units, the way he'd seen on the ship the Great Race had left to grow ivy all over it. at Sisshain. "Well-" He shrugged. "We*U worry about that when we see it." But his smile thanked her, while mentally he filed the info for future reference.

Gerain was fidgeting; now he spoke. "It is not of need mat livajj and I should hide; this ap Fenn is of no knowl- edge of us." True enough; the two Tilarans weren't even in Tarieton's records, let alone ap Peon's. And since they were ship's people, Vertan made a call and arranged to assign them to a Tilaran ship at the aux port, ahd for a

groundcar to pick them up within the hour.

Barton took a vote of the Earthani; it confirmed his

own disinclination to accept Vertan's offer to .'put all of them on a Tilaran ship and get them safely away. "Tarie- ton's going to be coming back here sometime. And he'U be walking into a trap. Somebody has to hahg around and warn him, and try to help. The way you did, Arlie, for us." Vertan looked doleful, but he had to accept the logic of it. Certainly, he admitted, he himself was not equipped to play strategy and tactics among Earthani

factions.

Barton said, "How long you think you can stall ap

Fenn on the refueling? Sure's hell we don't want him going to Sisshain. But he must have a few ships., fueled, for

patroh, like Gellatly's."

And then he found he hadn't known much about fuel logistics on Tilara. The thing was that production was feared to the normal rate of interstellar traffic. "Perhaps four or five twelves of ships in a year," Vertan. said, "though increasing, of course." Tarieton's fleet of forty had laid quite an overload on me system, put the whole caboodle on round-the-clock overtime and wiped out the reserve stockpile. Then with the second fleet expected, the higher rate of production had been maintained. But even with the best of will and intention, ap Fenn wouldn't be refueled yet. And the way things were, Tilara wasn't busting its butt to .speed the job up. "While we would be of joy to'see ap Fenn go," Vertan added, "we do not wish him to be of access to our friend Tarleton."

So it was a delay game, the best that Vertan could play without really knowing the rules. "Yen; thanks,'*

Barton said. He looked around the group. What else needed deciding in a hurry? How about Arleta Pox? He

368.

pointed to her. "If we figure ap Fenn to get a look-id here, you want to hide out with the rest of us, so's not tq

catch a court-martial?" !

She hesitated, then said, "Thanks, Barton, but I don')

believe I will." The bulldog smile. "You see, I'm one o) the few people in the second fleet that he couldn't pm down with a military rank. Oh, mere's 'equivalent rank, of course-'* She shrugged. "You can't dodge that, or nc one would know where you're supposed to sit in the gal

ley."

"Where you sit?" Barton found it hard to believe, bu

obviously she wasn't kidding. "You're still a civilian

though?"

The woman nodded. "So I think I'll simply call in m]

resignation from the Agency. Ill be a little feisty abou it, nitpicking about the exact termination date, and thi transfer of accumulated benefits I probably can't collec in any case." Now she grinned, "That's merely a mattel of good offense being the best defense. Keep him argu ing about my demands, so he won't' have time to pusl

at me with his own grievances."

Barton had to smile. "You're good; you know that?'

He shook his head. "You ever stop to think maybe you'n

in the wrong business?"

"No. But perhaps you are. Basically, we're boti

psychologists-even though I have the formal training

and you don't."