"Not alone," Quincy said. "You can't go in there alone."

"No, I know that," Ky said. "Mehar, Beeah, you'll come with me.

Bring the pistol bows. Look fierce." They looked more grumpy than fierce; she hoped that would suffice.

The captives, seated on the deck, looked pale and miserable. She

hated herself for that, but at least they were all-except Paison, Kristoffson, and Paison's mate-alive. "Here's the situation," Ky said. "ISC just dropped a fleet into the system. They can't come help us, however, because Paison and his little clique disabled our beacon and we haven't been able to fix it. That puts our chance of rescue pretty low; on active scan we'll show up as a dead ship unless someone comes in really close, and they probably have other priorities. It could be weeks before they find us, if they do, and the rations run out in another few days. So if one of you has the expertise to fix the beacon, this would be a good time to tell me, and do that job honestly."

Silence. They stared back at her as if she'd spoken to them in an alien language. "We really are running out of rations-you're not just punishing us?" That was a short, balding man toward the back of the group.

Ky shook her head. "No. Why would I do that? You weren't all in on it anyway, and making you hungry wouldn't be the way to make you friendly. Paison and company did us all a bad turn. I don't

know what his plan was-"

A hand went up. "I do."

Ky felt a prickle down her backbone. "And you are-?"

"I was his number-two com officer. You killed the number one. I

wasn't supposed to be in on it but-he knew all about the ansible attacks. He wasn't about to wait around here until ISC showed up..."

"Where did he think he could go in a ship like this with no FTL

drive?" Ky asked.

The man looked even paler; his skin glistened in the lights as those around him turned to look at him. "I-I don't think I should say."

"You'd better say, Corson, or we'll break your stupid neck,"

growled the man next to him. "If you get us killed-"

"And you are?" Ky said."Hemphurst, first officer off Balknas Brighteyes. Idiots have caused enough trouble. Corson, you cooperate or else."

Corson was clearly scared of the big man, but still scared of something else.

"Paison'll-or his group'll-get me if I tell."

"They aren't here and I am," Hemphurst growled. "I don't want to die of starvation because you're scared they'll come after you... If you're already dead, what difference does it make?"

Corson looked around nervously.

"What, you think some of 'em are here?" Hemphurst asked.

"I-I don't know," Corson said. "I don't think so, but-there's still

people from our crew and the Empress. What if one of them-""Well, you know I'm here," Hemphurst said. "And I meant it-you help us get out of this, or I will kill you and then we'll have one more ration..."

"All right..." Corson looked down, then up. "I don't know all of it.

But I do know the Marie wasn't the only ship Paison had insystem. Why the mercs didn't find the other, I don't know-it must've been stealthed somehow. But anyway-Paison was regional boss for the Barrenta gang. Posed as an ordinary trader, had a respectable history as cover. He had some kind of deal with the government here; the only people he was afraid of were ISC. He knew about the ansible attack: who did it, and why. And the Empress Rose was in on it, too. Kristoffson was one of 'em-nobody ever suspected anything of a passenger liner from a line like that. And he was going to rendezvous with his other ship, change the beacon on this one, put an FTL drive in it, and..."

"Kill us all," Hemphurst finished. "He was a damned pirate, in other words."

"Kind of," Corson said.

"Which means you're a pirate-""No! No, I'm not. I just-I found out something when I was on Empress, and they grabbed me and threatened me and then stuck me on Marie. There wasn't anything I could do. They watched me all the time-I was just like a prisoner-"

"So what do you know about beacons?" Ky said, interrupting what promised to become a verbal game between Corson and Hemphurst.

"Do you know how to fix them?"

"I-don't know," Corson said. "I know some things to try."

"Then you had better come try them," Ky said. "Hemphurst is not

the only one willing to kill you if you don't cooperate." She met Hemphurst's gaze; he nodded at her. "And as for the rest of you- anyone else have any expertise in this area?"

"Com Tech Sawvert, Aspergia," said a woman on the far side. "I don't know what's been done to the beacon, but I have done beacon maintenance. I might be able to help."

"Good. You, too, then."

Corson and Sawvert made an odd pair, Ky thought, as she escorted them back through the maintenance passages with Mehar and Beeah close behind them. Corson so clearly nervous about retaliation from Paison's people, and Sawvert, despite the effects of hunger, eager to get to work. At the access hatch, Ky stopped them. "Here-before

you go to work, have some lunch." It was only a sandwich apiece and a thin slice of fruitcake.

"Thanks, Captain," Sawvert said. Corson nodded; half his sandwich

was already in his mouth.

"If we can make contact and get an ETA for help, I'll know whether I can treat everyone," Ky said. "Engineer Chok and Environmental Tech Mehaar will keep an eye on you."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

Gerard Vatta's implant bleeped insistently. "Excuse me a moment,"

he said to the midweek meeting he was chairing.

"Gerry, it's Lewis Parmina at ISC."

His stomach went into free fall. "Yes?"

"Gerry, our people went insystem at Sabine about seven hours ago.

And your daughter's ship is not there anymore."

"Not there?" He turned away from the table, from the faces that

were searching his own for meaning.

"No," Parmina said. He went on, speaking rapidly. "The story we got from the mercs who came out, and from other civ ships, is that they interned captains and officers on your ship; your daughter was... was fine then. They made a contract with her; we've forwarded a copy they showed us to your offices."

Gerard noted but didn't comment on that slight hesitation. Alivewould have done; fine could be defined variably. Contract -he motioned to one of the assistants hovering around the main table, scribbled New contract, Mackensee & Vatta, just in, bring it. The assistant stepped back with the glazed expression that meant he was querying by implant.

"Apparently they disabled the FTL drive or it wasn't working or

something," Parmina went on. "So the ship was expected to be insystem on a particular ballistic course. Its beacon was working; they'd loaded additional rations and supplies and so on to cope with the additional passengers. We found the cargo-"

"Cargo?"

"The cargo your ship had been carrying, ag equipment. It was put outside the ship, netted, separately beaconed, with a copy of the

relevant contract, because the cargo holds were converted to hold the passengers."

What the dickens was Ky doing carrying ag equipment, anyway?

She'd set off with a cargo of mixed trade goods. One corner of his mind quickly put together a first stop at Belinta, a relatively young colony, and Sabine, known for its ag equipment in this region. He turned back to the table, waved, mouthed Later and left the room, heading for his office.

The rest of his mind stayed with Parmina, absorbing every word,

every nuance of tone and expression.

"The contract states she had picked it up on consignment for the Belinta Economic Development Bureau. It was found on the course the mercs told us to check, right where the ship should have been.

And the ship wasn't there. There were old traces of drive usage- apparently she turned on the insystem drive sometime after the mercs departed the system, but without a beacon trace, none of the scans in the system picked it up. We have no idea where she went, or why the beacon didn't show on anyone's scan."

"That can't be good," Gerard murmured.

"No... Gerry, I'm sorry. I really hate having to tell you this. If it