“It doesn’t matter,” he said.

“It may not matter, but I will feel better if you know, so hear me out, please.” He relaxed a little, and Ky went on. “I was talking to Vatta headquarters about that sabotage attempt when the connection went. The assassins came into the Captains’ Guild before I could try calling my father directly. Later—about six hours, we think—the consul was on the horn to Slotter Key when the entire Slotter Key ansible connection went down. It’s still down. He doesn’t know if it’s an attack like that at Sabine, or something else entirely. From the little he was able to get before he lost the connection, it appears that either someone has a multiple grievance with ISC, Slotter Key, and Vatta, or by some chance different someones with different grievances have hit at the same time. I think the first is more likely. You were in Spaceforce, right?”

“Yes, but—but nothing like this ever happened. I never saw combat.”

“But do you still have any ties to Spaceforce? Some kind of duty to get back to them?”

“No,” Riel said, with emphasis. “I just—I just want to do my job, without any of this excitement.”

“I hope you have that chance,” Ky said. “I’ll authorize payment to date, and you can go.”

“Now?” He stared at her.

“Now. If you’re not coming, then you don’t need to attend the crew briefing, and we’re going to be busy getting ready to leave. I’ll contact the bank right away; they’ll have your severance ready. Under the circumstances, I believe you aren’t really entitled to anything but salary to date… but on the other hand there is a crisis, so I’m going to authorize a month’s extra. My father can scold me later.”

“That’s—that’s very generous. I don’t know if I should—”

“Riel, don’t argue. It’s my decision. Now get your gear while I call the bank.”

It took only moments to authorize a draft for him. Ky went to the bridge, where Lee and Sheryl were working on the departure sequence. “Destination still Leonora, Captain?”

“I’m not sure. Set us up for that, Sheryl; it’s days to the jump point anyway, if I change my mind. Lee, what have you got on departure clearance?”

“Anytime, basically. They like a half hour’s notice, is all. It’s not exactly a busy station.”

“Riel should be offship by then.” The sooner they were out in space, the better. She called down to Quincy. “What’s our status?”

“We’ve been on standby since yesterday, Captain. We’re ready to go, and, yes, before you ask, fully provisioned.”

“Good. I’ll contact the station authorities. Have Beeah check to be sure when Riel has cleared the ship, would you?”

“He shouldn’t be leaving,” Quincy said. “Your father trusted him—”

“At this point, I don’t,” Ky said. “I don’t need an unwilling pilot.” Quincy sniffed audibly. “Just have Beeah make sure he’s gone.”

“All right.”

Getting departure clearance from the stationmaster was as quick as Ky had hoped; clearly the local authorities would be glad to see the last of Gary Tobai. Ky instructed Crown & Spears to forward her balance to her account at Lastway. Leonora was only a stopover; she shouldn’t need much money there. She tried again to reach her father from the ship’s secured com desk. CONTACT UNAVAILABLE was all she could get, using any of his numbers.

Then Gary Tobai uncoupled from dockside; the station seals closed and vented the little airspace remaining around the ship. Lee backed them out smoothly; the insystem drive spun up normally, and she was once more in command of her own ship in space.

Chapter Four

Now that we’re safely back in space,” Ky said to the assembled crew, “you need to know the latest information. You know about the attempted sabotage of this ship, and the attack on me personally.”

“Is it because of the Sabine affair?” Quincy asked.

“I don’t think so,” Ky said. “Not now. Too much is happening. The Slotter Key ansible isn’t functioning—that happened sometime yesterday. I was in contact with Vatta headquarters, and that signal was also cut off, but hours earlier, before the assassins attacked. I don’t know why Vatta would be a target, but apparently we are.”

“What can we do?” asked Mitt.

“The first thing we need to do is figure out what the situation is,” Ky said. “Right now we don’t know if Slotter Key’s ansible platforms were blown, or if there’s another reason their ansible’s offline. We don’t know enough to make a plan. But we do know there’s danger, and being a moving target will make it harder for our enemies to hit us.”

“Move fast, stay alert,” Martin said. The others looked at him. “Makes sense, Captain,” he said.

“Our stated itinerary is Belinta to Leonora to Lastway,” Ky said. “But we have supplies enough to go straight to Lastway—”

“Why go to Lastway at all?” Quincy asked. “Why not head back to Slotter Key, find out what’s really going on?”

“I’d rather stay out of systems with no working ansibles,” Ky said. “We’ve been in that situation before. Not good. Lastway’s remote enough, out on the fringe… I’m betting that it’ll have ansible function even if others are shut down. It’s also a high-volume system, plenty of traffic. That could bring us trouble, but it can also bring us news and allies. From there we can hop back to Leonora with their cargo if things settle down.”

“What kind of internal security scans does this ship have?” Martin asked.

“Just the usual for civilian tradeships,” Ky said. “Some of it’s down, too, thanks to the mutiny at Sabine. Video and audio to each compartment, mostly for communication. Why?”

“Someone tried to put explosives aboard—I’d like to be sure nothing else came aboard. No offense intended to your crew, but just in case.”

“Good idea,” Ky said. “You mean check out compartments personally?”

“That, and with some of the kit I brought along.” He patted his tunic.

Ky thought of asking where he’d gotten whatever it was, and decided now was not the time. “Go ahead, then,” she said. “Cargo’s secure; I’ll take the other sections’ reports while you learn where things are.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said; his arm twitched in what would, Ky knew, have been a salute.

Mitt was halfway through giving his report when muffled thumps made them all look up. The intercom clicked, and Martin’s voice said, “Intruder, cargo hold two. In custody. Request orders.”

“I’m on my way,” Ky said. “Mitt, Beeah, come with me.”

Just inside the open hatch of cargo hold 2, Martin stood guard over a prone figure in rumpled green tunic and kilt whose ankles and wrists had been trussed up with elastic cargo binders. “If you can take charge of him,” Martin said, “I’ll keep looking for any others.”

“Mitt, you stay with him; Beeah, be ready in case Martin needs you.”

It took several hours for Martin to be confident that no other stowaways were hidden away. “And I’m still not one hundred percent sure,” he said. “Just mostly sure.”

By this time, Ky had looked over their prisoner, an unprepossessing youngish man with straggly hair and at least a day’s growth of beard. He had a darkening bruise on one cheekbone. From his clothes, he was a Belinta native, but that was all she could tell.

Martin yanked the man up and propped him against one of the shipping containers. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t space you!”

The prisoner’s eyes shifted to Ky’s face. “Please! I didn’t do anything! Don’t let ’im kill me.”

“Didn’t do anything?” Ky said. “You stowed away on my ship. What were you up to? Planting more explosives?”

“No! I swear! Nothing like that.”

“What’s your name, boy?” Martin asked.

“Jim. Jim Hakusar. And I’m not a boy—”

“Really.” In that one word, Ky heard a tone that had turned many a raw recruit into a soldier. Martin turned to her. “Captain, this stowaway claims to be an adult, which means he’s legally yours; it’s up to you. I’ll be glad to get rid of him for you.”