MIDNIGHT I

Holly got out of bed and dressed swiftly. She didn’t have to check a directory to know where Eberly’s quarters were; she had the complete map of the habitat in her head, every square centimeter, every assigned apartment, laboratory, workshop, airlock, even the maze of underground tunnels and conduits.

Yet she hesitated before leaving her own apartment. The clock said three minutes before midnight, but she thought that Eberly would probably still have a throng of admirers and well-wishers crowding his quarters. Better to wait. Wait until they all leave.

So she went instead to her office and pulled up a display from the outdoor surveillance camera that looked at Eberly’s building. Sure enough, people were still milling around out on the grounds. His apartment must be jammed with them, Holly thought.

Drowsily she watched as the crowd slowly thinned away. She fell asleep, then woke with a start. The digital clock said 02:34. The apartment building looked dark and silent. He’s prob’ly asleep by now, Holly thought. For several moments she debated inwardly about awakening him. He works so hard, she thought; he needs his rest.

But you’ll never get to see him alone otherwise, Holly told herself. She commanded the phone to call Eberly.

“You have reached the residence of Dr. Malcolm Eberly,” his phone answered. “Please leave your name and Dr. Eberly will return your call.”

Screw that! Holly said to herself. She got up from her desk chair and headed for his apartment.

There was a perfunctory security lock on the building’s main door. Holly had memorized all the combinations long ago, and tapped on the keypad. The door popped open. As she went up the stairs, a sudden thought shook her. Maybe he’s not alone! Maybe he’s got somebody with him.

With a shake of her head, Holly told herself, Better to find out now. She marched down the shadowy hallway, lit only by the glow of fluorescent nameplates on each door. Eberly’s apartment was at the end of the hall.

She took a breath and rapped on the door. No response. Holly banged on it with the flat of her hand, worrying that the noise would wake the neighbors but determined to get Eberly to answer her.

She heard someone cough on the other side of the door. Then Eberly’s muffled voice demanded, “Who is it?”

“Holly,” she said, standing squarely in front of the peephole.

Eberly slid the door back. He had a dark-colored robe pulled around him, his hair looked slightly tousled.

“There is a doorbell,” he said crankily.

“I’ve got to talk to you,” she said. “It’s urgent.”

As if he were slowly remembering his manners, Eberly gestured her into his sitting room. A snap of his fingers and the glareless overhead lights came on. Now Holly could see that his robe was deep maroon. And his feet were bare.

“What is it, Holly? What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry to bother you at this hour, Malcolm, but I can’t get past Morgenthau and all your other assistants and I’ve got to have your help and the only way I could see you alone was like this.”

He smiled a little and slicked back his hair with one hand. “All right. You’re seeing me. What’s the problem?”

“Diego Romero. He was murdered.”

“Murdered?” The strength seemed to leak out of Eberly’s legs. He sank down onto the sofa.

Taking the closest chair to him, Holly said, “I’m positive. It wasn’t an accident. He was trying to push himself out of the water and somebody held him down.”

Eberly swallowed visibly, then asked, “You have proof of this?”

“I have evidence. The abrasions on his hands. They couldn’t have happened any other way.” Picturing the scene in her mind once again, she added, “And there were boot prints in the dirt, too many prints for one person to make.”

“But who would want to kill that gentle old man? Why would someone want to murder him?”

“I don’t know,” Holly said. “That’s why I need your help. There ought to be an investigation.”

He sat in silence for a moment, obviously thinking furiously. “Holly, this is a matter for the Security Department. You should tell them about your evidence.”

“Security? That means Kananga, doesn’t it?”

“He’s in charge of security, yes.”

Holly wrung her hands. “I don’t think he’d take me seriously. He’s… he wouldn’t think my evidence is enough to start a real investigation.”

Eberly leaned back in the sofa. “Colonel Kananga is an experienced police officer. He’ll know what to do.”

“Malcolm, he scares me,” she confessed.

He said nothing for several heartbeats, looking at Holly with those startling blue eyes of his. Then he smiled gently. “Holly, would you like me to go with you to Kananga?”

Her heart clutched within her. “Would you?”

“For you, Holly, of course.”

“Oh, great. Cosmic!”

Eberly’s smile grew warmer. “I’ll call Kananga first thing in the morning.” His eyes shifted to the digital clock across the room. “Which is only a few hours from now.”

She shot to her feet. “Oh, jeeps, I’m so sorry to bother you at this time of night, Malcolm. It’s just that I can’t get to see you anytime else, you’ve always got so many people around and—”

Eberly rose and grasped her shoulder lightly. “I know. I’ve been so terribly busy. Too busy. But I’ll always make time for you, Holly. Simply call me here at my quarters. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you so we can meet together, in private.”

She didn’t know what to say, except utter an awed, “Cosmic.”

Eberly guided her to the door. “I don’t want you to worry about a thing, Holly. We’ll meet with Kananga tomorrow. And from now on, whenever you want to see me, simply leave a message on my private line, here.”

“I will, Malcolm. I surely will.”

As she walked homeward, feeling almost light-headed, Holly realized how wrong, how stupid, Pancho had been. Malcolm could’ve taken me to his bed and I’d have hopped in like a rabbit on aphrodisiacs, she thought. But Malcolm was too much of a gentleman to even think about that. And the guy Panch hired to protect me screws me whenever he feels like it. Some bodyguard.

MIDNIGHT II

Manuel Gaeta did not go to sleep, either. By the time he reached his own quarters he had decided he should call Kris Cardenas and tell her everything.

“Can I see you, Kris?” he asked to her image floating in the middle of his one-room apartment. She was still wearing the slacks and blouse from earlier in the evening. Then Gaeta realized she wasn’t in her apartment; the phone had tracked her to her laboratory.

Cardenas looked slightly bemused. “Sure, Manny. When?”

“Tonight. Now.”

“Now?” She seemed to think it over for a few moments. “Okay. Come on over to my lab. I’ll wait for you.”

“Great!”

Halfway there, Gaeta remembered Holly’s crack about Kris developing nanobugs that ate testicles. He laughed to himself. Hey man, he said to himself, you live with danger. That’s the life you’ve chosen.

Cardenas wasn’t laughing, though, when she opened the locked door to her lab. She looked bright and perky, despite the late hour, but utterly serious.

“What’s on your mind, Manny?” she asked as she led him past a row of lab benches and spotless, gleaming plastic and metal equipment. “You are,” he said.

Cardenas perched herself on a high swiveling stool and pointed to a hard straight-backed chair for Gaeta. He remained standing.

“So you’re thinking about me at—” she glanced at the clock on the far wall, “ — twenty-eight minutes before one o’clock in the morning.”

Gaeta folded his arms across his chest. “Come on, Kris, cut the crap. Holly told me that you know about her and about Nadia.”

“I imagine you’re bragging to all your buddies about your hit parade.”

“I haven’t said a word to anybody. You grow up where I did, you learn to keep your mouth shut.”