to stay here? You think he’s going to have Q near his ships? No, Mr. Kressich,
you’re on the one hand cheap labor; on the other a nuisance. Depending on the
situation. The way things are going to go—very soon—you’re going to be a
liability to him. What means can I use to contact you, Mr. Kressich?”
“You contacted me today.”
“Where is your office?”
“Orange nine 1001.”
“Is there com?”
“Station. Just station can call through to me. And it breaks down. Anytime I
want to call, I have to clear it through com central; it’s set up that way. You
can’t—can’t call through. And it’s always broken.”
“Q is prone to riot, is it not?”
He nodded.
“Could the councillor of Q… arrange one?”
A second time he nodded. Sweat was running down his face, his sides. “Can you
get me off Pell?”
“When you’ve done what you can for me, a guaranteed ticket off, Mr. Kressich.
Gather your forces. I don’t even ask to know who they are. But you’ll know me. A
message from me will use the word Vassily. That’s all. Just that word. And if
such a call should come, you see that there is—immediate and widespread
disturbance. And for that, you may begin to look forward to that reunion.”
“Who are you?”
“Go on now. You’ve lost no more than ten minutes of your time. You can make up
most of it. I’d hurry, Mr. Kressich.”
He rose, glanced back, left in haste, the corridor air cold on his face. No one
challenged him, no one noticed. He matched the pace of the main corridor, and
decided that if challenged about the time, he had talked to Konstantin, talked
to people in the foyer; that he had gotten ill and stopped in a restroom.
Konstantin himself would attest that he had left upset. He wiped his face with
his hand, his vision tending to blur, rounded the corner onto green dock, and
kept walking, into blue, and toward the line.
There was a knock at the door. Hale answered it, and Jon turned tensely from his
place by the kitchen bar, let go a profound sigh of relief as Jessad walked in,
and the door closed behind him.
“No trouble,” Jessad said, “They’re covering up the signs, you know. Preparing
for in-station action. Makes finding directions a little difficult.”
“Kressich, confound you.”
“No trouble.” Jessad stripped off his coat and tossed it to Hale’s man Keifer,
who had appeared from the bedroom. Keifer felt the jacket pocket at once,
recovered his papers with understandable relief. “You didn’t get stopped,”
Keifer said.
“No,” Jessad said. “Just walked right to your apartment, went in, sent your
partner out with the card… all very smooth.”
“He agreed?” Jon asked.
“Of course he agreed.” Jessad was in an unusual mood, feeling a residue of
excitement, his normally dull eyes alive with humor. He walked over to the bar
and poured himself a drink.
“My clothes,” Keifer objected.
Jessad laughed, sipped at the drink, then set it down and began to take off the
shirt. “He’s back in Q by now. And we control it.”
ii
Union carrier Unity, amid the Union Fleet: deep space
Ayres sat down at the table in the main room, ignored the guards, to lean his
head against his hands and try to recover his balance. He remained as he was for
several breaths, then rose, walked to the water dispenser on the wall, unsteady
on his feet. He moistened his fingers and bathed his face with the cold water,
took a paper cup and drank to settle his stomach.
Someone joined him in the room. He looked, scowled instantly, for it was Dayin
Jacoby, who sat down at the only table. He would not have gone back to it, but
his legs were too weak to bear long standing. He did not bear up well through
jump. Jacoby fared better, and that too he held against him.
“It’s close,” Jacoby said. “I have a good idea where we are.”
Ayres sat down, forced his eyes into focus. The drugs made everything distant.
“You should be proud of yourself.”
“Mazian… will be there.”
“They don’t confide in me. But it makes sense that he would… Is this being