He sat still, wished Tabini a good evening, or morning, or whatever it was in this dim place, and held his shoulder against the ache, wishing he had had the foresight to bring his own first-aid kit.

"Bren-ji," Tabini said, patted him on the ankle in passing his perch on a raised bench.

And then he grew a little uneasy, since Tabini was not as cheerful nor as outgoing as one might look to have him. Tabini was preoccupied and spoke quietly with Naidiri and Banichi, after which Banichi and Naidiri talked with him for some little time, and then went and talked to each other.

"What's wrong?" he asked Jago quietly. "Can you tell?"

Jago got up, apparently wanting that answer herself, squatted down with Banichi and Naidiri, listening, arms on knees, talking with them for no little while.

Then she came back and said, in a low voice, "There's a breakthrough we're relatively sure isn't tourists. We think we have them identified there, but we're betting it's a feint, and that they might have created all this incursion area including the tourists to mask a move more to the south. We're trying to get information from several sources, but we have some feeling that either they weren't totally surprised by a landing at Taiben — or a move against the government has been in preparation for far longer than the Hanks matter."

"How serious?"

"Very. They didn't move after the ship sighting. They had a chance then. Tabini was at Taiben. But they likely expected tight security."

"They can't think it's lighter now!"

"The tourist move was very good. When we first sighted the ship, there was nothing at Taiben to draw citizen interest. But a landing — that's attracted the innocent public. That's drawn ordinary folk to lose their good sense about the proprieties. One doesn'tdrop in on the aiji for tea, Bren-ji, one can't think of it."

"Unless there's a spaceship on the aiji's front porch. With death rays and disintegrator beams. Jago-ji, they're out of their minds!"

"This is the public, nai-ji. You've made them confident of human good will. Here they are."

"My God."

"One could wish we had more time to scour the hills to the south. Banichi asks, as an option, if there's a way to delay the landing a few hours."

He looked at his watch, needed the display light in the faint light. "It's too close. I don't know. I could try right now. Not later. — But if we advise them what's going on — Jago-ji, they'll land on Mospheira. They won't proceed against hazard, I very much fear they won't, and that has its own problems."

Jago's lips pressed to a thin line. "We're not prepared to urge a delay yet. It may not be a good idea to delay. The search just has to move faster."

"We're talking about very little time, Jago. Once they go point-of-no-return, they're falling, and they have no choice."

Jago went back and talked to Banichi and Naidiri, who went and talked to Tabini.

Tabini came back to him, again put a hand on his ankle and said quietly, "Bren-ji. A group is coming in, within a very few moments. They're stopping. We're going on to the site immediately. We're going to make a certain amount of radio noise, in hopes they'll think us one of the patrols. I've a squad or two in the hills that's going to clear an area that has nothing to do with the drop, which we hope will attract attention to that area, and we're going on. We've a bulletproof vest. It's a little large. Please wear it."

"No argument, Tabini-ma. None from me. You're aware, I hope, that that capsule drops quite slowly as it nears the ground. It's not armored. It's tough — but I don't think it can take being shot at."

"We are aware. We're going to have air cover, at a respectful distance, of course. We'll be tracking it." A second pat at his leg. "We believe we know where Hanks is. They've been indiscreet with the phone lines. And the aiji has one advantage. I run the phone company."

He got up, he put on the vest Tano held for him and, worse, the helmet Tabini presented him, which had its advantages, he supposed, if someone were shooting at his head, but disadvantages if he didn't pad it with a folded small towel until he could see where he was going.

But other helmets were going on, and vests under jackets that probably had their own protection. It gave him the advantage, he thought, of looking a little less like a human and more like an atevi kid playing army.

He put his gloves on. There was nothing to do with his face, except, as Jago advised him, keep his head down, which sounded like a good idea to him.

"They're coming," Algini said, listening to his headset, over in the comer, and went on listening.

Banichi passed a woman a cassette. "The aiji's voice. Mine. Naidiri's. Dole that out and it's several hours' worth of our presence here."

"Yes," the woman said cheerfully. "Thank you, 'Nichi-ji."

'Nichi-ji? Bren thought with a second glance, but it didn't seem politic to ask. He gathered up his computer from where Banichi had set it when they came in and he held himself ready as the signals passed at the door.

They were going. Himself, Tabini, their respective security forces — the old gambling game, move the cups that held the stone, fast as they could; or pretend to move — meanwhile both sides were doing the same. For the second time in two weeks he was headed for a situation with atevi shooting at each other, he had his pockets weighted with ammunition clips, the bulletproof vest made his shoulder and ribs sore already, and the helmet kept obscuring half his vision — he wasn't a particularly martial specimen, he thought with a lump in his throat; he'd been shot at enough lately he'd decided he really didn't like it, and right now he wanted to strangle Deana Hanks barehanded for a situation she'd precipitated, if not directly caused.

FTL and stockpiles, hell.

It was dodge and turn in the dark through a confusing maze of small service roads, over hills, through meadows and down and across bridgeless streams in wooded areas — trees grew quite successfully wherever there was water and, increasingly so as they entered the wide south range, only where there was water.

They weren't in the lead: two other cars were in front, and Tabini rode with Naidiri in a car two back from them in the six-vehicle column, security clearly taking care to have them protected in the middle, but not together in the middle. The road ripped along a wooded streamside and out across open grassland for a space and back again into trees. They parked twice, each time in such wooded areas, at places where other roads diverged, and waited for what event wasn't clear, for maybe five minutes. Everyone sat in total silence, listening into the dark, the motors cut off, nothing but the night sounds of the range and the mild whisper of a breeze moving through the branches overhead. Tano relayed Banichi's messages to someone on his pocket-com — Banichi didn't talk, neither did Jago: voices that might be too well-known, Bren thought, especially to the neighbors. Tano said something about section eleven and some incursion and taking the number twenty-one. "Easy," the driver said, and motors were starting ahead and behind them. The lead driver backed a little and nosed off onto the divergence, leading the way onto a rougher, less-traveled road. Brush scraped the undercarriage and escaped out the rear, branches already broken by the first and second vehicle scraped along their sides.

Change of plans, Bren thought and, sandwiched between Jago and Tano in the backseat, cradled his elbow to protect his arm from the weight and irritation of the vest.