"Oh! Yes, Dr. Colby introduced us. Did you get the chemists' display tank?"

"Yes. Thank you."

"Amazing you'd recognize me. I didn't know you." The warning chime sounded, and she gripped the handles of the treadmill. "Here we go."

Elegantly muted sound heterodyned up to a pleasant, multi-voiced hum as the tank began to rotate, and the platforms swung up onto the sides of the drum. They flexed their knees and blinked away the slight disorientation from the Coriolis force and then they were both walking in place.

t.i.tus had attached his telemetry monitors to a device that would feed it good human data, so he didn't have to worry about the duty tech noticing anything odd about him. He could concentrate on Mintraub.

Chapter ten.

t.i.tus made small talk, probing for subject areas where Abbot had Influenced her. He'd learned the trick from Abbot but rarely used it. Luren who acted as agents were trained to create and erase ident.i.ties, tying human records into knots. Occasionally, they hunted luren gone feral, thus honing their skills. But t.i.tus, except for a few episodes, had been a scholar depending an agents to protect him.

He was bemused at his own audacity. To expect to outmaneuver Abbot at this game was more naive than expecting to best him in computers. Yet even Abbot wasn't invulnerable.

Delicately, he advanced into a sensitized area. "Did you say cryogenics? Haven't there been some marvelous advances in that machinery in the last five years?"

"Yes, but don't you use the new superconductors in physics these days? All our hardware does."

"My new computers had them in the core that was destroyed." He took a deep breath and pitched his voice carefully. Abbot Nandoha has had to fabricate replacement components based on the older technology."

"He is a genius, isn't he?" she agreed starry-eyed.

Oh, Abbot, that's unfair, implanting hero worship in a her! "Thorough," t.i.tus allowed.

She rallied to Abbot's defense, and gradually, a picture formed. She knew little of the objectives of either Biomed or Cognitive Sciences, though both drew on her equipment pool. But Abbot had convinced her that she couldn't handle the alien "corpse's" preservation chamber alone. Since she would be involved when they did anything to the "corpse," Abbot would also be called in. Very neat.

Preparing to withdraw, t.i.tus began to reinforce in her a reluctance to mention this casual conversation to Abbot, as if she'd shared trivial confidences with another woman.

Out of the blue she volunteered, "You know, Abbot's a strange one. I often wonder if he has an apartment! He turns up at all hours, even keeps a shaver in my desk. And I think he's stashed his toiletries in the cryogenic room and uses the sterilizing shower as if it were his own. How do you account for someone like that? I mean it couldn't take more than fifteen minutes to get to his apartment!"

"People are strange." He hadn't Influenced that out of her. She was jogging along at a good clip, and had augmented his hypnotic effect by going into natural alpha state.

What's really in the sleeper's room? A transmitter component? The whole transmitter? Getting in to find out would be a project itself. Before he even tried, he'd rifle the Brink's files for the cryogenic chamber's alarm system, and find out more about Diving Belle. As a physical anthropologist, she'd be in the Cognitive Sciences group, next door to the chamber. But he couldn't ask Sisi about her. Abbot would notice such an inquiry immediately.

t.i.tus came out of his thoughts to find Sisi slowing down, puffing hard. He felt as if he were jogging uphill.

The pleasant hum of the rotators climbed in pitch, and as it did, t.i.tus's knees began to sag. He jabbed at the stop b.u.t.ton, at the emergency override, at the attendant call signal-nothing-The panel stayed dark. "Malfunction!" he said. "Dismount and try to make it to one of the chairs!"

"Impossible," she stated with the adamant conviction of an expert mechanic. She kept poking control b.u.t.tons in varying combinations while t.i.tus tried to dismount.

He estimated they were at two g's now, but his reflexes, if they weren't off too much from low grav, should be up to it. He ripped the telemetry wires free then unhitched his safety belt. The treadmill was forcing him to run faster and faster. If the telemetry had not crashed with the g-control, he'd be in a lot of trouble. His idiot program would have kept sending dead-level healthy signals for one-g stress.

Calculating mentally, he stepped off the treadmill and curled into a forward roll, matching his momentum relative to the floor. It would make a wonderful exam question for his freshmen. He landed hard, the black traction strips on the floor ripping his suit and sc.r.a.ping his skin raw. He sat up, bleeding from his forehead and nose.

Mintraub still clutched the handlebars of the treadmill, her feet trailing out behind her, her body sagging alarmingly under the increasing gravity. He lunged to his feet and staggered to her, shouting, "Let go. I'll catch you."

"No!" she yelled back. "I'm too heavy now." Her knuckles Ere white, her hands slipping gradually.

He planted his feet to either side of hers. She might weigh two hundred pounds now, which t.i.tus could manage. But he had to get her free before her weight climbed to three hundred and neither of them could move. "Let go!" he commanded with Influence and yanked her loose, pulling them both over backwards. "Got to get to the chairs," he gasped, struggling to his knees. "They're contoured for four g's."

"You're bleeding!" she said.

"So are you." At least his blood was an acceptable color for human blood. It was now all over her gym suit.

She wiped her nose and stared at her b.l.o.o.d.y hand.

"Don't tilt your head back," t.i.tus advised. "Better to lose a lot of blood than ruin your neck from gravity. Crawl." They had no more than five strides to go, but it took an eternity. The few weeks he'd been on the moon had undermined his strength.

At last they climbed into seats. t.i.tus. .h.i.t the controls in the armrest. "Dead. It's going to be a long ride."

"Can't be. Safeties kick in at four g's, or the motors burn out. Designed that way. Awful lot of momentum in this baby." Panting, she added through clenched teeth, "If I survive this, I'm going to get the sonuvab.i.t.c.h responsible!"

And if she dies, how do I explain surviving four g's for an hour? His record showed he had high blood pressure and mild claustrophobia. The anxiety would be sending a human's blood pressure reading off the scale.

He'd acquired the phobia by being killed in a car crash and then buried alive. He was thankful it was a mild phobia, but now that he had nothing to do but endure, he worried about how to explain not having a heart attack or stroke.

For the lift-off, he'd been issued special medication-which he hadn't taken, of course. Maybe he could "confess" that and say he'd had it with him now? But why carry it in his gym suit? Irrational fear of the centrifuge? That would get him sent back to Earth, but he couldn't quit until he'd pinpointed the probe's target and Connie replaced him.

And the odor of human blood was making him ravenous.

Then the lights went off.

"Oh, s.h.i.t. t.i.tus, I hate the dark. Hold my hand."

It was really dark. Other than the dim glow of her body and the warm machinery, it was like a buried coffin.

"Hey, t.i.tus-you all right?"

"Yeah." He took her hand.

"Is it my imagination, or is it getting stuffy in here?"

"Let's not dwell on it." He did a quick calculation. "There's plenty of air for the time we'll be in here. Just relax. Four g's isn't really all that much."

She squeezed his hand. "This helps."

She was right. His universe narrowed to the few square centimeters of skin against his. Somehow, she communicated more to him by that simple touch than words ever could. Hot tears stung his eyes and a bit of moisture leaked out the corners and down his temples. And he didn't know why.

He concentrated on enduring and keeping her confident.

"It is getting stuffy in here," Mintraub panted.

"Won't be long now." But he was panting, too. Could somebody be pumping CO2 in?

The darkness became reddish, sparkling. It brought back the awful time in his coffin. He had wakened and started using oxygen. There hadn't been much. His raging hunger triggered panic, using more oxygen. He hadn't realized he'd been mentally screaming for help powered by Influence. When Abbot's hand, glowing with vitality, had broken through the coffin lid, flooding cool air, mud, and rain down upon him, he had gone for Abbot's throat like a ravening animal.

Now, with all his adult strength, he struggled to keep his plight from radiating to Abbot. He didn't need any more debts to his father. He wasn't going to let Abbot see him in that feral panic again. He just wasn't going to let that happen.

He clung to that until, like a hand relaxing in death, his mind let go of its thoughts and surrendered to dormancy.

". normal enough for someone revived by CPR an hour ago. But I wish we had had telemetry during the centrifuge ride. His eyes show some hemorrhage, but the pupils are the same size. Chuck, look at this. He's wearing contacts-"

t.i.tus grabbed for consciousness, as fingers peeled back his eyelids. He jerked his head away, gasping at the pain.

"Hey, he's conscious."

All at once, t.i.tus realized he was in the infirmary. He must have pa.s.sed out before the centrifuge stopped. No! They said CPR. I must have gone dormant. Feeling clumsy, he summoned Influence and shrouded himself in normality.

Chuck bent over t.i.tus with a pen light.

The light was too bright, and t.i.tus flinched, commanding silently, You saw what you expected to see as normal.

"What am I supposed to look at, Dave?"

Dave bent down. t.i.tus widened the command to include"No need to look again."

Dave responded, "Guess I was mistaken. Been studying those corpses too much. Humans aren't that weird."

The two withdrew, and t.i.tus a.s.sessed his surroundings. It was a booth formed by drapes around the gurney on which he lay. Equipment carts, a wastebasket, a sink, and a vidcom on the one solid wall completed the examination room.

He tried to sit up but found he'd been strapped down. Chuck pushed him back. "Now just be still a while, t.i.tus. You're going to be fine. But we have to make sure-"

"I am fine," argued t.i.tus. "Unstrap me. Where's the woman who was with me?"

Chuck's hands moved of their own accord, but the doctor was better trained than that. He pulled his hands back and a.s.serted, "You must lie still. You've had a cardiac arrest, but I just ran a quick comparison through the computer and there's no damage, no change. Sometimes miracles do happen. But you'll stay with us a couple of days, just in case."

Oh, no I won't. "Where's the woman who was with me?" He was really afraid now. If he'd gone dormant, what of her?

"Don't you worry about a thing. Ms. Mintraub is fine. We've sent her home. She didn't arrest or take a nasty b.u.mp on the head like you did."

Behind the curtains, an outer door burst open and a babble of voices filled the room. t.i.tus discerned Abbot's rumble, Carol Colby's clear, commanding tones, and above them all Ineaa" with an edge of panic, saying, "I insist. I must see him immediately!"

"Inea!" said Abbot, his Influence filling the room. "The doctors have their procedures."

"Inea," called t.i.tus, "I'm right here." He was surprised at the ragged edge to his voice and the raw fear in the pit of his stomach. Thinking fast, he added, "You don't have to worry about the chemists' tank-I've taken care of it all. We'll be ready to test your program in the morning!"

Smugly, he listened to Colby reply. Just maybe it would divert Abbot from the obvious conclusion about him and Inea.

By the time Colby had finished admonishing him about his health being more important than the press demonstration she had worked her way through the medtechs and doctors to his cubicle, trailed by the others.

t.i.tus shot a glance at Abbot, and put all his strength into Influence as he told Colby, "I'm fine. Just get me out of here. I've got work to do." And, dear G.o.d, I'm hungry! Nervous sweat beaded his upper lip. What if they don't let me go? His eyes met Inea's, and he faked confidence. But she had seen his fear, and she eyed the medics uncertainly.

Yet it was Abbot who acted. He added the Influence needed to convince everyone that the bandages painted on t.i.tus's forehead, palms, and knees meant nothing. They argued about the cardiac arrest, and Abbot challenged, "Since your instruments show no such evidence, perhaps he was only unconscious. He certainly doesn't seem like a heart patient to me." Abbot set them to convince each other as he wandered about poking at their computers and recorders. Occasionally, he'd flash t.i.tus a magnanimous grin and erase something.

Abbot knew how weak t.i.tus was. After being mashed in the centrifuge, suffocated, then pounded on by some amateur at CPR as the oxygen began to revive him from brief dormancy, how could he feel? But he grinned back at Abbot, determined not to let it show. Not before him, and not before Inea.

The medical discussion raged. Colby was reluctant to order t.i.tus released on her authority, while the doctors refused to take responsibility for bypa.s.sing precedures. t.i.tus knew the best way to break the deadlock was to stand up and sign himself out on his own recognizance. But of course there was no way he could reach the fastenings on the straps.

Meanwhile, Inea edged closer to t.i.tus, one ear c.o.c.ked to the medical discussion. As she began to believe t.i.tus was all right, anger replaced her anxiety. "I forced my way in here because I thought you were in danger from those doctors! I Wanted to help you, you cretin! How could you even think-let alone say right in front of everybody-that I'm more concerned about my d.a.m.n program than about you?"

Long as she's mad at me, she won't give herself away to Abbot. "Well naturally, I just came to and I thought-" The lie stuck in his throat.

"You thought? You're not capable of thinking! All you know how to do is force people to believe you!"

Stung, he hissed, "Idiot-love, you're not thinking! And if you don't get me out of these straps right now, all the disasters you expected may come to pa.s.s. Or worse."

"Turn to mist and ooze out of them!" She whirled and stalked back to the group's heated discussion, where the humans were now comparing t.i.tus to Abbot.

"I can't quite put my finger on it," Chuck was saying. "It's just a feeling."

"Very scientific," said Colby.

Dave announced, "I'll pull the records and we'll see."

"It's nothing in the records," confessed Chuck. "I've checked. It's just a sense of having missed something-do you know what I mean, Dave? Like doing rounds with a prof who doesn't say a word until you're out in the hall. You feel you've zeroed in on the diagnosis by the book-yet you know you've missed something and you're gonna get clobbered."

t.i.tus cloaked his voice and called, "Abbot!"

His father poked his head under the curtain, and t.i.tus glanced at the discussion group through the crack. "We've blown it."

Chuck continued to Colby, "That's why I don't want to let him walk out of here until we know there's no hematoma in the brain from that blow, and absolutely no chance of any damage to the heart. I wouldn't dare risk it."

"Very commendable," agreed Colby.

"But-" interrupted Abbot, turning to them. t.i.tus felt his Influence gearing down to a fine, subtle touch. "-a good scientist learns when to take risks. If you're still timidly laboring under the specter of some professor's wrath, you don't have the strength to hold up your end of a team effort. Isn't that true, Dr. Colby?"

"Very true."

Abbot turned to Inea. "I expect t.i.tus feels at a disadvantage, all tied down. Why don't you release him, while Dr. Colby explains everything to these fine doctors."

Abbot's Influence was hardly discernible, but Inea turned to comply as if it were her own will.

"I'm sorry I lost my temper, t.i.tus. I was taught better than to hit a man when he's down."

"Forget it," he replied. "I wasn't thinking clearly."

"Chuck," said Colby, "I'm not impugning your medical judgment. Abbot's right. There are other factors to consider. The centrifuge was sabotaged and we have reason to believe it was an a.s.sa.s.sination attempt on Dr. Shiddehara."

t.i.tus bolted upright. "a.s.sa.s.sination!"

The two medics tried to push him down again, but t.i.tus swung his feet to the floor. "I'm fine, really I'm fine. Did you catch the b.a.s.t.a.r.d?"