Possibly it was just my imagination; but on the other hand this field was sounlike anything I'd ever experienced anyway, I was perfectly willing to grantit one more bit of inexplicable magic. Between this and the Lumpy Brothers'exotic weaponry, the strange technology was starting to get a little too thick on theground for my taste.

Putting hull-plate connectors back in with a multitool was a different skillentirely from taking them out, but it wasn't that hard and I wasn't going tobother with more than the four corners for now anyway. A few minutes ofleafingthrough Ixil's sheaf of schematics and I had the proper breaker boxidentified: up on the top deck with the rest of the crew cabins.

The general stir that had accompanied Ixil's injuries had long since fadedaway, and the Icarus was again quiet. I climbed the aft ladder to the top deck andmoved silently down the corridor, half expecting one of the cabin doors toopenand someone to take a potshot at me. But no one did, and I reached the breakerbox without incident. It was recessed into the bulkhead at the forward end of the corridor with five other breaker boxes, just beyond the forward ladder. Itwas also quite small, though given that it apparently only contained theship'stwenty-six intercom breakers I shouldn't have expected anything very big.

Not surprisingly, given the Icarus's designer's overly optimistic faith in thegoodness of his fellow men, none of the breaker boxes was locked. The hingessqueaked slightly as I pulled the proper one open, but not loudly enough towake up any of the sleepers nearby. With a tingling sense of anticipation, I shinedmy light inside.

According to Ixil's schematic, the box held twenty-six low-voltage circuitbreakers. At the moment, however, all it held was twenty-six circuit-breakersockets.

I gazed at the empty box for a few more seconds, twenty-twenty hindsightturningmy anticipation into a sour taste in my mouth. With the wires still touchingbehind the intercom, the saboteur had, of course, been unable to reset thetelltale breaker. So he'd simply taken them all out.

Score one more round to him. This was getting to be a very bad habit.

With the same faint squeak of the hinges I closed the cabinet door again.

There might be some spare breakers aboard, but since virtually nothing ever wentwrongwith the things there very well might not be. Besides, anyone smart enough tohave anticipated my actions in the 'tweenhull space was probably already aheadof me there, too. By the time I found the spares—or found and cannibalizedanother set of same-sized ones from a different box—he would undoubtedly havethe intercom wires fixed again.

The walk back down to my cabin seemed longer somehow than the upward trip hadbeen a few minutes earlier. I retrieved a connector tool from the mechanics room on my way and finished sealing the hull plate back into position, then layback down on my bunk and tried to think. I thought for a while, but it didn't seemto be getting me anywhere, so I went back up to the mid deck to check on thebridge.

Tera was still faithfully on duty, or was once again faithfully on duty ifshe'd been the one scooting around between the Icarus's hulls. I volunteered to takeover for her while she grabbed something to eat from the dayroom, and as shepassed by me I tried to see if I could spot any oil stains on her clothing orsmell any lingering aromas. There was nothing out of the ordinary that I coulddetect.

But then, I didn't seem to have picked up any stains or smells while I wasbetween decks, either. Inconclusive, either way.

As soon as she was out of sight I did a complete check of the bridge, equipmentand course heading both. Tera was still reasonably high on my list ofsuspects; and even if she wasn't the one sporting the brand-new collector's set ofcircuit breakers, there was no reason a saboteur who liked fiddling with intercomscouldn't extend his hobby to more vital equipment.

But everything checked out perfectly. Sinking wearily into the command chair, I

propped my elbows on the armrests and my chin on my hands and stared at thehypnotic flickering of the lights on the status display until Tera returned.

We exchanged good-nights, and I went back to my cabin. Giving up my efforts atthinking as at least temporarily unproductive, I lay down on my bunk and wentto sleep.

CHAPTER 9

POTOSI WAS THE most populous world we'd hit yet, big enough that it was nolonger a colony but a full-fledged member of the Najiki Archipelago, a seriesof thirty or so Najiki worlds scattered across several hundred light-years andwinding its way through at least three other species' claimed regions orspheresof influence. That the other species tolerated what might otherwise have beenseen as an unacceptable intrusion on their sovereign territories was a tributeto Najiki diplomacy and bargaining skill.

That, plus their unique gift for creating wealth and their willingness toshare that wealth with governments who were generous enough in turn to grant themright-of-way corridors through their space. The cynics, of course, would putit rather more strongly.

There were five major InterSpiral-class spaceports on the Potosi surface, thelargest and most modern of which was heavily dominated by the Patth mercantilefleet. As soon as we were in range, I contacted the controller and asked for alanding bay in the port farthest away from it. Under some circumstances, Iknew, a request that specific might have raised eyebrows, or whatever the Najik usedfor eyebrows. But the Patth near monopoly on shipping had hit this areaparticularly hard, leaving an almost-universal hatred for them in its wake, and I knew that the controllers would take it in stride.

Unfortunately, that same universal hatred also meant that every other incomingnon-Patth ship was also making the same demand; and most of them were regularvisitors here. In the end, in a result that fit all too well with thedepressingpattern of the entire trip so far, not only were we not granted a slot half acontinent away as requested, but were instead put down square in the middle ofthe Patth hub.

Once again, I told the rest of the crew to stay aboard while I went outshopping. Once again, they weren't at all happy about it.

"I don't think you understand the situation," Everett rumbled, staringdisapprovingly down at me from his raised position on the slanted deck. "Itseems to me that if we could simply take Shawn to the port med center and showthem his symptoms—"

"We could then all sit around a quiet room somewhere," I finished for him.

"Explaining to the nice Najik from the Drug Enforcement Division just how itwas he got a borandis addiction in the first place. Remember the hijackingthreat—this would not be a good place to make ourselves conspicuous."

He snorted. "No one would try a hijacking here in the middle of a majorspaceport."

"You must be kidding," I growled. "With strangers wandering around all overthe place, and no one knowing anyone else, either spacers or ground personnel?

It's a perfect spot for it."

His lips compressed briefly. "What about you?" Tera spoke up, gesturing at mynewly recolored hair and eyes and the set of false scars I'd applied to mycheek. "You think that disguise is going to get you past the people lookingfor you?"

"Someone has to go hunt up a drug dealer," I reminded her patiently. "Wouldyourather do it yourself?"

"I just don't want you to get caught," she shot back angrily. "If you do, thatends it for all of us."

"I won't get caught," I assured her. "I won't even be noticed. The picturethey've got of me is old, and I know the sort of people the Patth arerecruiting. They won't be able to get past the hair and eyes, believe me."

"Interesting," Nicabar murmured. "I wonder how one gets to be an expert on howpeople like that think."