"Now, then-with Hishtoo ahead of us, we're the ones blinded by our own wake." He thought. "Tilt us, Abdul.

Our wake-cone spreads about five degrees from canter.

Tilt us-oh, make it ten."

Abdul looked puzzled, but his hands moved on the board. Then he smiled. "I see, Barton-a side-vector to take us out of our existing wake, and enough tilt to see past the edge of our new one and locate Hishtoo again."

"Right." Several minutes passed. Then: "There he isl"

"Can we catch him?" said Alene.

"I doubt it," Barton said. "But it wouldn't do us any good if we did-not until we rebalance the Shield. He'd just knock us out again. All we can do is follow, and get to Sisshain as soon as possible." Abdul reset the course.

"But then," said Limila, "why does he not attack? As we did, from the blind side?"

"Several reasons, maybe. Weapons. He's used his only torp. If he tested the Filjar plasma-gun, he may have found that it's still unreliable. And I think I got his laser.

That would leave him just the ion beam and the sleep-

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gun. We've got him outgunned-and he can't know our Shield's fucked-up. ^

"Mainly, though, he doesn't have to fight now. He can beat us to Sisshain, so why fake chances?" Barton rubbed his throat. "Would somebody kindly get me a beer?"

"Sure," said Cheng. "Anybody else?" Limila took the comm so that Myra could go with him; the two soon re- turned with beer, coffee, klieta, and a tray of. assorted snacks.

"As long as we're allowing goodies in Control," said Myra, "let's do it right." No one made any objection.

Barton found he had no appetite. Limila, relieved of comm duty, came to him. "Do not feel badly, Barton.

You did of your best, to save them-and they know it."

"Yeh. Close, but no cigar-not good enough, Limila.

But you're right-no point in brooding about it. Let's go fix that damn Shield."

Barton found the job more difficult than he had ex- pected. Normal realignment procedures failed; the result was still unstable.

The group had scattered, leaving Cheng and Myra on watch. Barton went to Five-maybe Abdul could help.

"Yes," said Abdul, "I worked in repair of units dam- aged in our testing at Titara, I will see what I can do."

Only two were needed in the work, and "Limila was tired; Barton seat her off to rest. It was a long job-before Abdul had any results to announce, Barton also felt fa- tigue.

"There are, of course, damaged components," Abdul said, finally. "It is the 'lock' circuit that is most severely affected. For the rest, I think, I can compensate."

The question was whether Ship One stocked all the right spare parts. Although the Shield couldn't possibly be needed for another day or two, and both men were overdue for sleep, neither was willing to stop work until they knew exactly what they were up against. So first they checked inventory on computer readout, and then went to root through the parts-bins physically. And a good thing, Barton decided, that they did follow through; records showed a spare exciter for the lock circuit, but the damned thing wasn't there!

While Barton was trying to work up enough energy to swear, Abdul said, "If I may disable one of the Larka-Te

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torpedoes, we can manage." The torpedoes, he went on to say, contained a very similar circuit package;^all he'd have to improvise was the connectors, a mounting, and a phase-shift network. To Barton it didn't sound that easy, but if Abdul thought it was, why argue? And in any case, two torpedoes plus the Shield beat hell out of three and no Shield. Though Abdul said the robbed tor- pedo could still be fired as a solid missile-and maybe a dummy could come in handy, sometime,

So Barton okayed the idea, and headed back to Com- partment One. He went in as quietly as he could, but Limila woke anyway. "Barton? You are still up?" She stretched, "Oh, I am so refreshed!'*

Barton wasn't. But he knew the look of her, and be damned if he'd turn his woman down twice in one day.

Short of sleep, he was up before ship's-noon, feeling reasonably energetic but somewhat less than clear of mind. Limila was gone; he didn't find her in the galley, either, when he stopped by for coffee and took it up to Control. There, Alene and Eeshta had the watch; Barton sat alongside them. "Morning. Any news?"

"Not to speak of," said Alene. "Abdul and Limila are running around with circuitry coming out of their ears, if that helps."

"It had better. Without the Shield, we're m mucho tough."

Alene nodded. Eeshta said, "Barton. May I speak?"

"Huh? Sure, of course; any time. You know that."

"Then I would say this-that while I am glad Hishtoo is not dead, and the others, still you should have killed, Barton-while you could yet do so. Am I wrong to say it?" .

Barton gripped the small Demu's bare, homy-cara"

paced shoulder. "No-not wrong, Eeshta. But you see- I didn't want to pull the trigger until 1 had to-on livajj and Gerain, or even on Hishtoo. And then while we were still arguing, he shot off the torp-and school was out."

"Yes, Barton-I saw. I could have told you what he would do. But I thought you knew."

He laughed briefly. "Maybe I did know-maybe I just got fat and sassy, and thought I could match whatever move he made. Anyway, it doesn't matter, Eeshta-ex- cept that they're still alive, and so are we. All that's

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*a"

changed is, now we have to do it-whatever we do-at Sisshain."

"Yes, Barton." Eeshta's head bowed, then straight- ened. "So that you know not again to relax vigilance against Hishtoo-that is all."

"I won't, Eeshta. And thank you."

"May I be relieved of watch for a moment? I would have klieta, if you permit."

"Sure thing. I'll hold it down."

When Eeshta was gone, Alene said, "You know some- thing, Barton? That kid scares me."

"That right?" He paused, thinking. "I see what you mean-but it's not fear, Alene; it's awe. How she could come so far, so fast. All by herself, and after one hell of a bad start. The first time I met her . . . well, skip that;

just take my word for it, she had no reason to love the Earthani.

"And yet, after only a few months on Earth, on her own hook she decided that when it comes to the Demu treat- ment of captives, we are right and her own people are wrong. To the point that she's willing to die for what she thinks."

"I know. Barton-that's what I mean. She scares me."

"Well, there's worse ways to be scared. And . , . oh, hey-Abdul! How's it going?"