If not for Kit’s support . . .
He didn’t even know why Kit had come to his rescue.
So he shoved his hands into his pockets, suppressing a wince where the cuffs had dug into his flesh, and waited for Kit to catch up. The world-famous time scout actually clapped him on the shoulder, startling Skeeter considerably.
“Come down to Edo Castletown with me,” Kit said over the roar of voices on Commons. “I need your help.”
Skeeter blinked. “My help? What for?”
Kit grinned at his tone, but the smile faded too quickly. “After you left the aerie, Ronisha ran computer records checks for everyone who entered the station today. I’m afraid the databanks are a mess, thanks to that riot Caddrick started.” Kit shook his head and made a derisive sound of disgust. “Half the arriving tourists haven’t even scanned their records in properly yet. But Ronisha thinks she’s got a line on the Ansar Majlis leadership. A couple of businessmen, seemed legit enough. Came to open up a new outfitter’s shop for the Arabian Nights sector. They checked into their hotel, nice and quiet, then tried to contact some of your pals from that murderous construction crew. By radio, mind.”
Skeeter’s brows rose. “Don’t tell me, they tried to contact those little radio handsets Benson took off those bodies we left downstairs?”
One corner of Kit’s mouth twitched. “You got it. Mike intercepted the call. That down-time kid, Hashim, who helped you with the rescue? He helped us out again, in a big way. He answered the transmission, told them there’d been trouble, but he’d meet them, bring them up to date.” Kit thinned his lips. “They’re in my hotel, Skeeter. I want them out.”