She smiled at him. “It’s okay. We can live with it.”

She signed and initialed the notation. Leo rounded up his crew, and Kim watched them exit through the air lock and start up the tunnel. As the last of them vanished, a luggage cart approached. “This the Hammersmith?” it asked.

“It is,” said Kim.

The cart scanned the bags. “Where would you like me to put them?”

“Where are the owners?”

“My last information is, they were headed for Happy Harry’s.”

“Happy Harry’s?”

“A cocktail lounge.”

“On Sky Harbor?”

“Yes.”

“Thanks,” she said. “You can leave it right here.”

“In the tunnel?”

“Yes. It’s okay. I’ll take care of it.” When she was alone she called Solly. “More coming,” she said, looking at the name tags. “Wentworth, Little Deer, Moritami, Henderson. They stopped at a bar.”

“They could be here any time,” Solly said. “We have to get rolling, or forget it.”

“Webley’s still back there. You want to take him along?”

“Do you think he’d want to come?”

“Not likely.”

“Then do something.”

“I was about to.” Webley was a familiar type. He belonged to the relatively small subgroup of researchers who believed with all their hearts that no one had ever seen more clearly into the interior of the atom, or whatever, than they had. That nothing in life was of more importance than their corner of scientific knowledge and the recognition by others of their place in it. Like children, they believed that they were the center of the cosmos. That fact outweighed everything else, and also constituted their prime weakness.

He opened to her knock and gazed at her as if trying to remember who she was and what she was doing in his doorway.

“Professor Webley,” she said. “We’re scheduled to run some engineering tests during the next hour or so. It’s going to get loud, and there’ll be a fair amount of vibration.”

“Oh? They never had to do that before.”

“You probably never arrived this early before.”

“Oh yes, madame, as a matter of fact, I have.”

“Whatever. We’re going to have to go through the basic engine shakedown, and it makes a terrible racket. I was going to head up to the Domino to get away from it.” She inhaled slightly, tilted her head, and summoned the most captivating smile she could manage. “I’d enjoy your company if you’d care to come.”

“Really, Dr. Brandywine, I don’t think—”

“I’d like very much to hear what you’re currently working on.”

Webley’s brow creased. “I thank you for your interest, but I really am a bit pressed just now.” He gazed at her as if she were a recalcitrant child, and then he wished her good day and closed the door.

She bowed slightly, turned, and left. “So much for my charm,” she told Solly a minute later.

He grinned. “The temptress strikes out, huh?”

“I guess so. He looked annoyed.”

“Ham,” he told the AI, “start the mains. Prepare for departure.”

“Confirm,” said Ham, in a female voice.

Kim frowned. They did not want to kidnap this guy.

“The six o’clock shuttle is in,” Solly said, responding to her unasked question. “If Moritami and the others are on it, they’ll be here any—” He stopped and pointed at one of the displays. Three men and a woman had appeared at the far end of the approach tunnel. “Speak of the devil—”

“Solly, what do we do?”

“We need something that’ll burn,” he said.

“Burn? Why?”

“Ask questions later. What have we got that’s flammable?”

Starships weren’t good places to look for combustibles. Clothes, panels, furniture. Everything was fireproof.

“Hold on a second,” he said. He got up and went into the mission control center. She heard him open the panel to the kitchen. Two minutes later she smelled smoke.

“Toast,” he grinned. “Twenty pieces. Now, go down and stand outside Webley’s room. When things start to happen, help him leave.”

God, this was going to be one of Solly’s finest moments. She started back down the passageway as a Klaxon began to sound. The intercom switched on. “This is the captain. There’s no reason to panic, but we have a fire in the forward compartments. All passengers please leave the ship immediately. This is the captain. I say again, we are not in immediate danger. Do not panic—”

Webley’s door opened and he put his head into the corridor, looked both ways, saw Kim and scowled. He was about to say something when he spotted wisps of smoke leaking into the passageway behind her. The smell of burnt toast had become pretty strong.

“We’re on fire,” Kim said.

“For God’s sake, young woman,” he complained, “how could that happen?”

“Let’s talk about it later, Professor. This way out.” But he turned back into the room, threw open a suitcase and started scooping his clothes into it.

“You haven’t time for that,” Kim said, letting her voice rise. And then, inspired: “This whole place could blow at any time.”

That was enough for Webley. He threw the lid down, hefted the bag under one arm, grabbed some clothes, and banged out of the room. “Incompetent,” he snarled. “Everywhere I go, people are so goddamn incompetent!”

“This way, sir.” Kim pointed him to the boarding tunnel. He disappeared into it.

Outside, an alarm had begun to sound.

“All clear,” she told Solly.

“Good. Close the hatch.”

“How?”

“Let it go. I’ll do it from here. Come on up and strap in. We’ll be leaving in a minute.”

“But Webley hasn’t had a chance to get clear.”

“Is he in the tunnel?”

“Yes.”

“He’ll be fine. The tunnel seals automatically when we button up. Don’t worry about it.”

Moments later she slipped into the pilot’s room and sat down beside Solly. “It strikes me,” she said, “that when this is over, I’m going to owe apologies to a lot of people.”

“Including me,” he said.

Kim got up again and looked at the seat. “See.” She pointed. “You can see an imprint.”

“Control,” Solly told the mike, “This is Hammersmith. We have an emergency departure. Request instructions, please.”

“Hammersmith, Control. State the nature of your emergency. We just got a report of a fire.”

“Negative that, Control. The report resulted from a communication problem at this end.”

“What is your emergency?”

Kim reclaimed her seat and the harness came down around her shoulders.

“Taratuba’s false vacuum has gone premature.”

Kim looked at him, surprised, and mouthed What?

“Wait one, Hammersmith”

“Solly,” she said, “do they even know what Taratuba is?”

“I doubt it. It’s better that way. Fewer questions.”

She scanned the bank of screens, which provided a 360-degree view. They were free of encumbrance save for a forward utility line. All Solly had to do was make the disconnect up front and there was nothing to stop their leaving. “Why don’t we just go?” she asked.

“We could hit something,” he said. “And anyway somebody would immediately call the Patrol. Moreover, if we somehow escaped being jailed for theft, it would guarantee my loss of license.”

“Hammersmith, Control. Departure is authorized. Data is being fed now.”

Solly acknowledged, watched his array of lamps flicker with the download, and then spoke to the ship’s AI. “Ham, disconnect mooring and let’s go.”

“Complying,” said the ship.

“‘Let’s go?’ That’s all there is to it? ‘Let’s go?’”

The ship began to back away from the Marlin facility.

“I guess I’ve just revealed a trade secret, Kim. And when we get where we’re going, I’ll tell it ‘okay.’”

“Seriously—?”

“Seriously, human pilots are only on board to deal with problems. Emergencies. And probably to soothe the concerns of passengers, who’ve never been happy with the idea of purely-automated vehicles.”