“Plate after plate,” said Stavros. “Valuable for the metal alone. Boaz theorizes that it was not all done by one hand, and that the first of that series is very old. Techniques of great sophistication or of great patience, one or the other, and meant to last. Fm told the mathematics are intricate; they’ve gone to computer to try to duplicate the series to navigational tape, and to try to match it out with some reference point. Even so it seems beyond our capabilities to do a thorough analysis on it. We may have to resort to the labs at Haven, and that’s going to take time. A great deal of time. But you maintain you had no idea what it was you had.”
“No, sir.” He met Stavros’ eyes without flinching, the only defense he could make. “I didn’t know then and I’m not even sure now that the mri knew; maybe they were sent by their own authorities, and had no idea why. But I’ll agree it’s highly likely that they knew.”
“Can you get it out of them?”
“No. No. I don’t think so.”
“They seem to have expected a ship if this tape is what it appears to be.”
“I don’t think they did. They wanted offworld, yes, but they expected nothing. That’s an emotional judgment, based on the general tone of things they said and did, but I believe it.”
“Possibly a very valid judgment. But they may not commit ypur error, Duncan, of seeing all regul as alike. The mri dealt specifically with doch Holn; Alagn is Holn’s rival; and Holn… does have ships.”
Cold settled from brain to stomach. The argument was plausible. “Yes, sir,” Duncan said softly. “But it would be a matter of contacting them.”
“The so-called shrine is a possibility.”
“No,”
“Another emotional judgment?”
“The same judgment. The mri are finished. They knew it.”
“So says Alagn; so, perhaps, said your mri. Perhaps neither is lying. But regul sometimes do not say all they know. Perhaps mri don’t, either. Perhaps we haven’t asked the right questions.” Hand trembling, Stavros lifted a cup and drank, set it down again. “The mri are mercenaries. Are yours for hire?”
The question set him aback. “Maybe. I don’t know.”
“I think the regul as a whole fear that. I think that is one of several things Hulagh desperately fears, that having lost possession of the mri, he might find humankind possessing them. And using them. What is their usual price, do you know?”
“I don’t know.” He looked at Stavros, found that curious, half-mocking manner between him and the truth. He laid the picture down on the desk. “What are you proposing?”
“I’m not. I’m just wondering how well you profess to know them.”
“It wasn’t a thing we discussed.” , , “According to your records, you’re a skilled pilot.”
He looked at Stavros blankly.
“True?” Stavros asked.
“If the record says so.”
“Elag/Haven operations required some interstellar navigation.”
“I had a ship automated to the hilt. I can handle in-system navigation; but everything in transit operations was taped.”
“That is rather well what we’re dealing with here, isn’t it?”
Duncan found nothing to say for several moments.
“Does all this come together somehow?” he asked finally. “What is it you’re really asking?”
‘Take the mri in charge. Take the artifact, the egg. You say that you can handle the mri. Or is that so, after all?”
Duncan leaned back in his chair, put distance between himself and the old man, drew several slow breaths. He knew Stavros, but not, he thought suddenly, well enough.
“You have doubts?” Stavros asked.
“Any sane man would have doubts. Take the mri and do what? What is this about navigation?”
“I’m asking you whether you really think yon can handle the mri.”
“In what regard?”
“Whether you can find out more than that report of yours tells me. Whether you can find some assurance for Kesrith that the mri are not going to be trouble, or that Holn does not have its hands on more of them.”
Duncan leaned forward again and rested his arms on the front of Stavros’ desk, knowing full well that there was deception involved. He looked Stavros in the eyes and was sure of it, bland and innocent as Stavros’ expression was. “You’re not influenced by my advice. You’re going to send me off blind, and there’s somethina else going on. Can I know what that is? Or do I guess at it?”
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