“Innovators.” Ky had no idea what he was talking about.

“Look, Captain, I’ll be as honest with you as my other loyalties permit. More honest than I’ve been with Stella—you have my birth name, for instance. ISC has major internal problems. I can’t tell you all about them. Some I don’t know, and those I know I must not tell. But I’ve been warning my father for three years that something was going to blow loose. I guessed wrong about where—I thought it would be Allray, not Sabine, and that’s why I set up there two years ago. I was trying to get some hard data on who, and how, and when. This secondary attack on the ansible network, knocking them all out—”

“Lastway’s not out—did you know that?”

“I heard that from the crew as we came in. I really want a nice long chat with the local manager, because there’s every chance he’s one of them.”

“Because the ansibles here work?”

“Precisely. They seem to work, but do they? Are all messages being sent and received correctly? I rather doubt it. The people I suspect of being responsible still need to communicate with each other and would need a network to use—but a network they control. How many systems do you know, of your own experience, are down?”

“My own experience? Slotter Key. A ship coming to Belinta System as we left told me Leonora was down, and reported stuffed message bins blocking an automated intermediate station.”

“Full… that shouldn’t happen. Can’t happen without sabotage, but it’s a very simple way to mess things up. Easy to fix, if the repair crews know what’s wrong and are doing their job. But then easy to screw up again.”

“Low cost?” Ky asked.

“If you’re an ansible platform tech or administrator, yes. That’s where I think the trouble’s coming from anyway.”

“So—you want to check out the local administrator.”

“Very much. Actually, first I want to check out the ansibles themselves, the system software. I consider this my highest priority; partnering you would, at this point, be my second. I realize that no woman likes to come in second, but—”

“Don’t be stupid,” Ky said, more sharply than she intended. “I’m not a schoolgirl, even if I don’t have gray hair. I understand—you have to consider ISC first. But why would you even want to partner with Vatta?”

“Mobility. More resources. Many of the same reasons you want allies. This is too big for me alone, and I can’t—dare not—go straight to HQ. I can’t claim a place on any ISC ship without revealing who I am, which would make it impossible to uncover the plots and counterplots. Our merged networks are bigger than either alone.”

He looked honest, but then good liars did look honest. Ky was sure he was hiding things—he even admitted he was hiding things—but not sure if the things he was hiding were harmful to her mission. She was hiding things herself, for that matter. She caught herself wondering what he really looked like, with his own hair, with all disguises off, and dragged herself back to the issue at hand.

So,” Ky said. “You want to partner with Vatta Enterprises, Ltd., or with me personally, or with me and Stella and Toby, or what?”

“You’re in command now, aren’t you? I believe in going to the top. I’d like to partner with you.”

“Stella’s going to be my G-2,” Ky said. She wondered if he knew the term.

“Good choice,” Rafe said. “You’ll want to have her vet the contract, I’m sure. Shall I write out what I’d like to see, since you don’t have an implant?”

“Go ahead,” Ky said. She called Stella, who arrived with a model contract already drafted. Rafe glanced at it. “This is fine,” he said. When it was signed and recorded, he stood and stretched.

“I would rather not run my inquiries from here,” Rafe said. “Your security may be as good as you paid for, but I don’t want any back-traces.”

“You have an idea who it is.”

“An idea. No data. If the idea’s right, then they have the same or better tech than I do.”

“Better tech than ISC?”

“Better tech than I’ve been given. If you could direct me to a bathroom, so I can put my face back on—”

“Down that passage, second left,” Ky said.

“Captain, there’s a call for you on the bridge.”

“Coming,” Ky said. “All right, Rafe, go find out what you can. If ISC’s whole local office is bent—”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, but it could be. How long should I wait before rousing the troops?”

“The troops you don’t have? Don’t worry unless I’m not back in a full day cycle.”

“All right. And where should we look for the body if you’re not?”

“If I knew, I’d be safer. Just don’t… get into trouble while I’m gone.”

“I’ll do my best. See you then. Call us from the perimeter—you can ping Stella, right?”

“Right.”

On the bridge, Lee was holding an open contact with an odd expression on his face. “It’s a Mackensee ship,” he said. “Do you want to talk to them?”

“I wish I could afford to hire them,” Ky said, wondering if the value of Stella’s contribution would make that possible. Probably not. She sat in her command seat and flicked on her screen. “Captain Vatta here, go ahead.”

“This is Captain Pensig, Mackensee Military Assistance ship Gloucester. I understand you are the same Captain Vatta who had a contract with Mackensee at Sabine?”

“That’s right,” Ky said. She hoped that contract wasn’t under dispute somehow; they had seemed quite cordial when she left them.

“We’re having a… a sort of situation has come up, Captain Vatta, and the officer commanding our mobile force would like to confer with you.”

“With me?”

“Yes, Captain. I’m not sure if you’re aware of Mackensee command structure: the ship crews and the mobile forces are, perforce, in different branches, as it were…”

“Are you here because there’s a war on?” Ky asked. Enough fencing around; she wanted something solid.

“No, no, nothing like that. I mean, nothing other than whatever’s attacking ISC installations. We’re here on what should have been a routine mission, rotating personnel in and out of the local recruiting and consulting station. But something’s come up… the ansible failure, among other things…”

“I see,” Ky said, to fill in the long silence. “And your OIC wants to talk to me? What does he—she—think I can do?”

“I’m not sure. As I said, he’s not in my chain of command, in fact he’s… fairly junior… but he asked me to contact you, ship to ship. The… uh… officer who would normally be in charge developed a medical problem and is in cryosuspension. Would you be willing to meet with him?”

“Certainly,” Ky said. “But I’m not leaving my ship at present. Where are you docked?”

“Five Alpha Blue. I’m sure you’d like to speak to him by com before meeting in person…”

“Yes, thank you,” Ky said.

“Just a moment then. I’ll have him paged.”

Ky wondered why the other officer wasn’t standing by, but the vidscreen of the Mackensee bridge made it clear he wasn’t. His face, when he appeared, looked much younger than she expected.

“Captain Vatta, this is Lieutenant Mason of the Mackensee Military Assistance Corporation; he is the ranking combat forces officer presently in the system.” The ship captain could have been Lieutenant Mason’s father.

“Captain Pensig, I’ll talk to Captain Vatta alone,” the young man said. A slow flush mounted Captain Pensig’s neck, visible on the scan.

“Of course, Lieutenant Mason,” Pensig said with grave courtesy. “The com officer will seal the line.” He stepped back out of vid pickup range, and the margins of the screen flickered then steadied as someone walked through the security curtain.

“You don’t look like I expected,” said Lieutenant Mason. He didn’t, either; Ky had met only a few of the Mackensee officers before, but all of them had the kind of hard edge she expected from experienced military personnel. This young man did not; he belonged in a shipping office, someplace where everything fit into a routine.