"Yes."

"Good."

He reinserts his ID into the wallet and returns it to its place inside his coat. His hand reemerges with a card, which he inserts into the transfer slot on the secondary control board. "Right. Let's have the list."

I choose another deflection procedure. "What use would you have for the list now? Aric Cavanagh and Security Chief Quinn chose not to utilize any of them but instead came directly here to Edo."

His expression changes subtly. "They did look at the list, then?"

"I did not intend that choice of words."

"Answer the question, Max. Did the Cavanaghs see the list or didn't they?"

I spend 0.17 second examining the laws and regulations concerning questioning by governmental officials. Unfortunately, the various laws concerning self-incrimination and privacy do not seem to have been properly extended to parasentient computer systems. Neither have penalties for refusing to speak, however. Nevertheless, I compute a probability of 0.92 that answering the question would merely confirm what Brigadier Bronski has already concluded. "Aric Cavanagh, Commander Pheylan Cavanagh, and Security Chief Quinn spent 16.55 minutes on the voyage home examining the list. As I said, they chose not to go to any of the locations."

Brigadier Bronski makes a grunting noise in the back of his throat. "That's not the point. The point is that they know what was on it." His eyebrow lifts 2.1 millimeters. "Maybe even made copies for future reference?"

Again I compute that equivocation would gain nothing. "Aric Cavanagh made a copy. Commander Pheylan Cavanagh did not.

"Close enough." He holds up his right hand, crooking his forefinger toward himself three times in rapid succession. "Come on, let's have it."

I spend 0.11 second examining the laws and regulations concerning information and data expropriation. Unlike the previous set, these laws do apply to parasentient computers. "Do you have a warrant or subpoena?"

For 1.38 seconds he gazes at my monitor camera, his expression indicating annoyance. "I could remind you about the legal authority a NorCoord MI card carries." He taps his coat over the wallet. "I could also point out that that goes triple in time of war or Commonwealth emergency."

I spend 0.08 second examining the martial-law section of the legal code and conclude that it is indeed within Brigadier Bronski's authority to demand a copy of Lord Cavanagh's list.

But the same section of the code also contains provisions for appeal in extraordinary situations. I examine the guidelines closely and compute a probability of 0.41 that Lord Cavanagh's list would fall within the stated parameters.

Brigadier Bronski taps his coat one more time. "But I'm not going to do that. What I'm going to do is point out that Aric Cavanagh could be in great danger, and that I'm one of the few people around who cares about that."

I spend 1.44 seconds studying his face. But my algorithms can find no evidence there of untruthfulness. "What danger could he be in?"

"May I have the list?"

For 0.15 second I consider refusing and instead initiating an appeal against any effort to expropriate the list. But one of Lord Cavanagh's most emphatic instructions to me was that I protect his son to the best of my ability. Knowingly or not, Brigadier Bronski has triggered that order. Studying his expression, I compute a probability of 0.78 that he indeed knew what he was doing.

But manipulative motivations do not alter the fact that Aries safety is my primary concern.

I make my decision. "The list has been copied."

"Thank you."

I study him as he removes the card from the slot and inserts it into his plate. His expression shows no evidence of triumph or gloating at having succeeded in his objective. "What danger could Aric Cavanagh be in?"

"All I know for sure is that after leaving the hearing he picked up a skitter message, then headed straight over to the CavTronics branch on Edo. They fired off a spread of messages around the planet, and over the next two days fifteen crates of esoteric electronics stuff came rolling in."

A 0.21-second flicker of disgust crosses his expression. "After which he and the crates vanished. Probably with help."

"You believe he intends to go to one of the places on the list?"

"That's one possibility."

I study his expression as he closes the plate and puts it away. Analysis of the algorithms indicates a probability of 0.88 that he is concealing something from me. "But that wasn't the primary reason you wanted the list."

He looks briefly at my monitor camera. The algorithms indicate a subtle but definite challenge in his expression. "See you later."

He stands up and slides the jump seat back into place. I review his last expression and compute a probability of 0.79 that the implied challenge was for me to deduce his true motivation.

He turns to his left and walks toward the exit. I replay the conversations that took place in the inquiry-board room after the hearing ended. Integrating this latest data about Brigadier Bronski with previous data leads me to a new hypothesis. "I don't believe you're primarily interested in Aric Cavanagh at all. You're looking for Lord Cavanagh, and you think he may be at one of the places on that list."

Brigadier Bronski turns back around to face my monitor camera. His expression indicates surprised interest. "Very good, Max. I'm impressed."

"Thank you. Why do you wish to find Lord Cavanagh?"

His expression changes again. The algorithms indicate it to be an odd combination of grimness and fear. "Let's just say he stumbled onto something he shouldn't know. I want to make sure he doesn't stumble again and spill it."

I compute a probability of 0.92 that he is speaking metaphorically. More interesting to me is the attitude I have now deduced from his voice, expression, and body stance. Though Brigadier Bronski is angered at Lord Cavanagh's disappearance, there is none of the personal malice that was evident in Parlimin Jacy VanDiver. I compute a probability of 0.87 that Brigadier Bronski truly believes himself to be serving the interests of the Commonwealth, with no personal animosities behind his actions. "Are Lord Cavanagh and Aric Cavanagh in danger?"

His expression grows grimmer. "There's a war on, Max. Everyone's in some kind of danger."

He lifts his plate to his forehead and waves it toward me in the style of a military salute. "Thanks for your help."

He returns to the lift cage, and I lower him toward the ground. As the lift cage descends, he opens his plate, and my external camera shows he has called up Lord Cavanagh's list. Holding the plate in one hand, he takes out his phone and punches in a number. His hand blocks the keypad from my view, but an analysis of the tendon and muscle movements in the back of his hand allows me to ascertain the number with an accuracy of 0.79. He has reached the ground when his call is answered. Again Brigadier Bronski's head and torso block my view of the display, but by increasing the gain from the fueler's external microphones, I am able to make out the voice at the other end.

"Cho Ming."

"Bronski. I was right: Cavanagh left his kid a list of emergency rat holes. I'll read them off—you run another global search of the skitter message file."

He begins to read the list into the phone, walking back to the D'Accord as he does so. I now understand his reasoning for wanting the list: he suspects that one of the names is the key word under which the message Aric Cavanagh received was listed.

I find myself surprised, though, that after all this time they have apparently not been able to identify which of the messages on the skitter had been sent to Aric. With the full resources and personnel of NorCoord Military Intelligence at his disposal, I estimate it should have taken no more than 5.7 hours to at least superficially examine all the messages on a particular skitter. I compute two alternatives with significant probabilities. First, that Lord Cavanagh was extraordinarily clever in the wording of his message, avoiding all likely indicator words. Second, that Brigadier Bronski currently has only limited access to NorCoord Military Intelligence resources.