He conceals the flechette pistol beneath his tunic and returns the survival pack to the locker. He looks at the entryway camera, his expression changing. I compare algorithms, compute a probability of 0.67 that he knows I have observed his actions and is wondering what conclusions I am drawing. But he does not speak to me; he merely retraces his path back to the control room.

He reenters the room 68.54 seconds after leaving it. I watch the other two officers' expressions as he enters the doorway behind them, compute a probability of 0.85 that his absence has gone unnoticed by both of them. "Interesting stuff, Max. Anything yet on the actual hull material?"

I spend 0.45 second examining the results of my chemical/structural comparison and begin a first-approximation extrapolation of the catalytic/ultrasound technique. "I've done a comparison of the two ceramics, Commander. They are chemically similar, though with differences in certain admixture ratios."

Lieutenant Williams waves his right hand, his expression one of impatience. "We know all that. What we need to know is whether or not the catalytic/ultrasound method can be adapted to work against it."

"I understand that, Lieutenant. My analysis of that question is as yet incomplete."

Lieutenant Williams mutters something under his breath. I replay the sound, enhancing the volume, and discover it to be a vulgarity in common usage on Kalevala twenty years previously. "How long is it going to take?"

Commander Cavanagh moves around behind him, passing him and continuing on to a point at Colonel Pemberton's side. "Take it easy, Lieutenant. Max is a parasentient computer, not God."

"Right." Lieutenant Williams steps to the transfer slot and withdraws the card. "Unfortunately, I don't have time to sit around watching his gears spin—I've got work to do. Where are the cards I gave you?"

Commander Cavanagh hands him the two cards that he brought aboard. "I'll stick around and let you know when he's got some answers."

"Fine." Lieutenant Williams turns to look at Colonel Pemberton, lifting his eyebrows in a questioning gesture. "You coming, Colonel?"

For 0.73 second Colonel Pemberton looks at Commander Cavanagh, her head tilted 5.97 degrees off vertical to the right. "No, go on ahead. I'll stay here."

"Okay. See you later." Lieutenant Williams turns and leaves the control room.

Commander Cavanagh walks around the room to the number-two jump seat and pulls it out. "There's no particular reason you have to stay, you know."

Colonel Pemberton's face alters to an expression indicating thoughtfulness and a certain degree of distrust. "I like your company. Besides, you might get lonely." She looks around, simultaneously waving her right hand in a gesture that encompasses the control room and, by inference, the entire fueler. "Here in this big ship all alone."

I finish my extrapolation of the catalytic/ultrasound technique against the Zhirrzh hull material. "I have a preliminary result, Commander. I compute a probability of 0.92 that Lieutenant Williams's technique can be used successfully against Zhirrzh warship-hull material. It will actually require only minor modification."

"Great." Commander Cavanagh takes a deep breath. The low-level tension that has been in his face changes, altering into an expression of firm resolve. "Print out everything you've got onto some cards. The raw data, your analyses and extrapolations—everything."

He pauses 1.05 seconds, during which time his lips tighten together and then relax. "And then get the fueler prepped to fly."

I begin printing out onto the cards as ordered and activate the fueler's electronics self-test. I also examine Colonel Pemberton's face, finding a slight hardening of her expression but no oven surprise. "You going somewhere?"

"As a matter of fact, I am."

"Without saying good-bye?"

Commander Cavanagh's mouth tightens for 0.24 second. "You've already said you're not going to let me leave anytime soon. That you don't even know how I can prove I'm safe for the Peacekeepers to use."

"And you think going AWOL is going to help your case?"

I finish writing onto the cards and eject them into the holder. Commander Cavanagh glances over, then returns his attention to Colonel Pemberton. "I don't have time to waste playing psych games, Colonel. We've got a way here—maybe—to hit back at the Zhirrzh. I intend to give it a try."

Colonel Pemberton's eyes narrow. "What about Peacekeeper Command?"

"What about them? They'll get their copy of the results—that's who the cards are for. Go ahead, take them."

Moving slowly, Colonel Pemberton steps to the holder and takes the cards, her expression and body language indicating caution. "Then what is all this supposed to prove? You're not planning to take this fueler up against a Zhirrzh warship, are you?"

An edge of amusement enters Commander Cavanagh's expression. "Hardly. I'm not trying to prove anything, either. Max, how long before we're ready to lift?"

I examine the progress of the preflight checklist. "All critical components have been checked and cleared. It'll take three minutes to pressurize the Icefire pumps once you authorize it."

Commander Cavanagh nods. "Pressurize the pumps."

Colonel Pemberton shakes her head slowly. "This isn't the way, Commander. All it'll do is wreck your career and make you a fugitive."

"My career is hardly the important issue here. Max, let me know when the pumps are pressurized."

"Yes, Commander."

Colonel Pemberton half reaches a hand out toward Commander Cavanagh. "Commander—Pheylan—listen to me." Her voice is soft and quietly pleading. I analyze her expression and tonal pattern, compute a probability of 0.87 that her concern is genuine. "I understand how much you want to get out of here, and I sympathize with you. But whatever it is you've got planned, believe me, it isn't going to accomplish anything."

Commander Cavanagh smiles. With the underlying tightness of his expression, the smile carries no significant degree of humor. "We'll find out."

For 3.66 seconds neither of them speak. I study Colonel Pemberton's expression, noting several changes of emotion that culminate in shocked understanding. "You're taking the information to your sister on Dorcas. Aren't you?"

Commander Cavanagh nods. His expression indicates mild surprise at her comment. "Very good, Colonel—full marks for inspired guesswork. It's almost time—better get moving. And be careful with those cards on your way out."

Colonel Pemberton doesn't move, but her expression and voice take on a degree of scorn. "So that's all this is? You think your sister is entitled to this information before anyone else in the Commonwealth gets it?"

A faint flush of blood flows briefly into Commander Cavanagh's cheeks. From his expression I calculate a probability of 0.92 that the flush is due to anger and not embarrassment. "Let me tell you something, Colonel Pemberton. I checked the records before I left Edo to come here. There's been one attack—one—on the Zhirrzh blockade ships around Dorcas. And that was over ten days ago. There haven't even been any surveillance ships sent into the system since then to find out what's going on there. The fact of the matter is that Peacekeeper Command's written them off."

He points to the cards in Colonel Pemberton's hand. "Maybe there's a chance they can use this technique. It's worth the risk of one life to give them that chance."

Colonel Pemberton draws herself up to her full height, adding 1.98 centimeters to her normal posture. "And if I refuse to let you?"