The last of the transcript came in. He skimmed it—Auguste had gotten a fleeting contact. Marak and Hati were riding off from the camp, pursuing beshti that had run away in panic, all but two of their beshti having taken off. One of the men had a broken leg and cracked ribs.

From falling off? From a kick? Or from an accident with a collapsing tent? The situation was ongoing. The report was unclear.

Not good news at all. The last of Auguste’s report was cryptic, unrefined, from a tap trying harder to listen than to write his transcription, trying to make sense of intermittent contact, unable to maintain a coherent communication. Auguste had spent the last of his watch in contact with the subdirector, who’d shunted Auguste into contact with Ian at the Refuge, regarding Marak’s situation. Hati’s intermittent watcher had been called to duty as backup, but had gained no contact, either. Auguste blamed their distance from a working relay.

He was coming on duty into an outright emergency—well, not a huge one: the communications dropout was surely the storm as well as distance, and Marak seemed to be doing what he had to do, which was to catch the runaways. But certainly it was an exciting event, a chance for him to actually work a situation. In anticipation, he watched the clock tick down the last seconds.

1000h. He made the slight effort to tap in.

And didn’t make contact at all, not even with the tap.

That was a curious sensation. Just silence. Was the tap-manager wanting Auguste to stay in charge a little longer, still trying to reestablish solid contact?

“Procyon Stafford.”

The Old Man’s voice echoed in his head. Brazis himself. Speaking directly to him. Why did his heart suddenly pound? Had something happened to Marak?

“We have a problem, Procyon. There’s a situation on station and unfortunately you’ve been selected. I want you to report to Governor Reaux’s office.”

“To the governor, sir?” Total change of direction. Didn’t the director know the staff had an emergency working? Didn’t he know Auguste had lost contact, after an earthquake?

“The governor’s a reliable ally to the PO. Don’t offend him. Do you know any reason why an authority from that ship out there would want to talk to you personally?”

“To me, sir? Ship?” He talked aloud in order to talk to Brazis, and knew that me, sir?wasn’t an adequate, even an intelligent answer. But ship. The docked ship. “No, sir. I haven’t any idea why. I have no idea. I don’t know anybody from Earth.”

“The ambassador’s name is Mr. Gide. Mr. Andreas Gide, from Earth. He likely views you as new on the job and vulnerable—maybe someone he can bully for information he shouldn’t acquire. He’s likely interested in Marak. Needless to say, we’re not pleased at this attention, but we’re curious. And very wary. Don’t take this meeting lightly.”

“No, sir. I couldn’t possibly. Take it lightly, that is. I can’t talk to him, can I? I’m not supposed to.”

“You can. You will. And you’ll do it intelligently and observantly, just as you do your job. Go to Governor Reaux’s office and get further instructions. He’s managing your visit. I’m sure he has the address.”

He was utterly appalled. “What am I supposed to say to this person, sir?”

“Answer his questions—consider him as equivalent to the governor, certainly no higher than that, but be very polite. You have skills of observation. He knows who you are and what you are. You know the Project rules. And you have a proven discretion. Use these assets.”

“Yes, sir. But…you know there’s been a major earthquake down there this morning. Marak’s out of touch. Am I—?”

“Auguste has the situation in hand. The contact is intermittent, but he has it. Marak’s situation is entirely manageable. Marak is very confident and Auguste is volunteering to extend his shift to meet Drusus halfway at noon. Don’t worry about it. Don’t think about it. I want your mind on the job at hand, which I assure you is far more critical to the Project.”

“Yes, sir.” He was concerned, humanly concerned, for a man down on the planet who in many ways had grown closer than family, and, no, he didn’t want to be shunted off on any other job, especially one where he could get into politics, where he could make a career-damaging mistake he couldn’t remedy. “Can I come back later and trade shifts with Drusus, sir? I’m sure I won’t be that tired. I want to know how this comes out.”

“You’re to talk to the governor, and then the ambassador. Find out what Gide wants and why he has an interest in you. And you’ll debrief to me after that. I’m telling you to concentrate on this job, not the other. I trust you can use that professionalism.”

Stern reprimand. Refocus. Fast. For his career’s sake. “Yes, sir, but can you tell me what I’m supposed to be listening for with this person?”

“This Earther from way high up in his government has come out here specifically asking questions he knows he shouldn’t ask—which is interference with Outsider government and interference with the Project and the PO, of which Apex takes a very dim view. Take mental notes on his questions, his attitudes, his implications. Forget nothing. Commit yourself to nothing. Give nothing away, the same as to anyone on the street. Is that a clear enough explanation for you?”

It wasn’t. He felt a rising panic. He didn’t want to sound unco-operative. “Yes, sir.”

“You have an immediate appointment at Governor Reaux’s office, in person. Dress modestly and appropriately. Don’t contact any friends or relatives while you’re under that ship’s observation, as I assure you that you will be for the next five days. Don’t answer questions relating to Project affairs, not with the governor and especially with the ambassador. You already know what you can and can’t talk about. For all we know there are a dozen bugs and all manner of truthers inside the governor’s office or inside the ambassador’s shell, so keep calm. Don’t be overawed by the governor—don’t trust him, either. Don’t talk about your work or your personal life with him and don’t talk about department business, no matter how nice and social it sounds. And damned sure don’t get friendly with the ambassador or get led down corridors where no-answer means they hit something sensitive. If truthers are an issue with the governor’s office, bet they’ll be in full force when you’re with the ambassador. In short—follow the rules you always follow, find out what he wants and what he thinks and admit only to what he brings up that’s within that level of knowledge. Don’t even think of tapping back to the PO while you’re in either office, remember every minute detail you’re asked, and don’t tell the governor or the ambassador a thing of substance. You’re a tap. You know how to do what I’m asking of you. You have that kind of memory.”

“Yes, sir.” A shiver ran through him, as if the room had gone way too cold. He decided he had the picture as clear as he was going to have it. He couldn’t imagine what the governor or the ambassador would want to talk to him about excepthis work and the department’s business, which he was ordered not to talk about. And he had no inclination to say anything about his personal life, or the personal associations the department had forgiven him, even to his own department head.

Could it be that? Could his assignment to Marak have come into question, because of those old associations, his Freethinker days?

That was a truly terrifying thought. But it was Earth, not Apex asking the questions. Earth couldn’t make any decision regarding the Project. Earth, once he thought clearly about it, wasn’t that big a threat to him no matter how much they wanted information.

“Go,”Brazis said. “Say as little as possible, and remember everything.”