Timothy Zahn - Angelmass

Pirbazari seemed taken aback. "You really think that's necessary?" he asked.

"Unexplained radiation surges and now impossible orbital shifts?" Forsythe countered. "I think we've gone slightly past necessary."

Pirbazari's lip twitched. "All right," he said reluctantly. "I'll talk to EmDef."

"Talk loud and firm," Forsythe said. "And while you're at it, see if they have any mechanism for moving Central into a higher orbit. Whatever's affecting Angelmass may hit the station next, and I don't want its orbit dropping just in time for Angelmass to plow into it."

"I'll check," Pirbazari said. "I know they stock some supplies for asteroid miners who sometimes stop by. Maybe they've got a few strap-on boosters aboard."

Forsythe grimaced. It would take a lot more than a few boosters to get something the size of Angelmass Central moving. But it would be better than nothing. "Just have that evacuation transport standing by."

"It is," Pirbazari said. "EmDef tells me—"

He broke off as Ronyon suddenly grabbed Forsythe's shoulder. Forsythe looked up, to find the big man staring wide-eyed down the corridor behind Pirbazari. It's Ornina! Ronyon signed excitedly, bobbing his head that direction. And Chandris!

Forsythe shifted his eyes down again, expecting to see the women walking through the front door on their way to see Hanan.

What he saw instead was the two of them hovering in the background as two emergency room techs wheeled in a gurney with a blood-soaked figure on it.

"Looks like Kosta," Pirbazari said, peering down the corridor. "What the hell happened to him?"

"An accident, maybe," Forsythe said, an odd feeling stirring in his gut. "Let's find out."

They arrived just as the group reached the elevator. It was Kosta, all right, his face puckered stoically. "What happened?" Forsythe asked.

"Oh, High Senator," Ornina greeted him, her own expression tight but controlled. "There was a—well—"

"Someone I used to know came by the Gazelle" Chandris spoke up. "He had a knife."

"And showed Mr. Kosta how it worked, I take it," Forsythe said. Like both Kosta and Ornina, he saw, Chandris's expression and voice were under careful control.

But as Forsythe studied her, it seemed to him that her face had aged ten years since the last time he'd seen her.

"He was going to take me away," she said softly. Her eyes closed briefly; and when she opened them, they seemed to have aged another ten. "Kosta saved my life."

"It was actually the other way around," Kosta murmured.

"Save your strength, Jereko," Ornina admonished him gently. "Our first-aid bandages weren't able to stop the bleeding, High Senator, and the Gazelle's medpack was shut down with most of the rest of the ship's equipment."

The elevator doors opened. "You don't need to explain," Forsythe assured her. "Go get him fixed up."

"Yes, sir," Ornina said, as the techs got the gurney into the car. "Thank you, High Senator."

The two women got in with the others, and the doors closed. "Left arm and chest," Pirbazari commented. "Both of them slashes instead of penetration wounds. He should be all right, assuming he hasn't lost too much blood."

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Forsythe said, gazing unseeingly at the closed doors as all the question marks surrounding Kosta came flooding back. His mysterious funding source, his shadowy background, the anomalies in his manner and speech.

And all the questions now set against a Pax invasion of Lorelei.

And suddenly, it all came together. "He's a spy," he breathed. "A Pax spy."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Pirbazari's jaw drop. But even as he turned to face him, he could see his aide's surprise turn to understanding. "I'll be damned," he said quietly. "Are you sure?"

Forsythe hesitated. Yes, he was sure. But at the same time, he also had no actual proof.

Which was, after all, the question Pirbazari was really asking. "Not yet," he told the other. "But I will be."

He glanced up at Ronyon, who was silently following the conversation with a puzzled look on his face. "I'm going to take Ronyon back to the office," he said. "As soon as Kosta is patched up, you bring him to me."

"Right," Pirbazari said. "You want me to bring the others, too?"

"Just Kosta," Forsythe said. "And watch him, Zar. Watch him very closely."

"Don't worry," Pirbazari said. "I will."

The stars emerged from the blackness, and the Harmonic had arrived.

"Seraph EmDef Command to liner," a tart voice came from the bridge speaker. "Identify yourself."

Captain Djuabi turned his head toward the bridge master screen, where the net and catapult ships showed in a tactical-type display. Each of the four catapult ships had three or four Empyreal Defense Force ships hovering watchfully nearby. "This is Captain Djuabi of the liner Harmonic," he said, his voice stiff.

Far too stiff for Lleshi's taste. From his vantage point directly in front of the captain, carefully outside of the range of the visual comm camera, the commodore lifted a warning finger. Djuabi's lip twitched, just noticeably, and he gave a microscopic nod.

He would cooperate, all right. Not that he had many other options. With his liner's command areas all under Pax control, Djuabi had no choice but to comply with Lleshi's orders. At least, not if he valued the lives of his crew and passengers.

Djuabi shifted slightly in his chair, the movement sending a faint glint off the gold pendant and chain around his neck. Telthorst had wondered, rather pointedly, whether any number of human lives would even be a consideration for a man wearing an angel.

Perhaps they were about to find out.

"Point of origin?" Seraph Command asked.

"Balmoral," Djuabi said. Apparently it was still possible for a man to lie with an angel around his neck, at least under duress.

"Please transmit your papers," Seraph Command ordered.

Djuabi nodded to the man at the comm station. The Pax officer at the board set to work, fumbling only slightly with the unfamiliar control layout.

Lleshi rubbed his thumb slowly along the side of his index finger, striving to release some of the tension churning through his stomach. Everything was balanced together on this moment, a moment in which there was nothing he could do but watch and wait. The Balmoral papers the officer was sending out were as good a forgery as the Komitadji's Crypto Group had been able to create, but nothing was perfect. If Seraph Command had a particularly sharp eye, or a particularly wellprogrammed computer, this gamble would crumble like soft stone under a mason's sledgehammer.

And if it crumbled, so would the entire mission. Plus, undoubtedly, the rest of his career. Telthorst would see to that.

For perhaps half a minute nothing happened. Lleshi gazed at the master screen, watching the slow drift of the catapult ships across the starry background and wondering about the capabilities of those EmDef ships escorting them. The defenders were destroyer sized; small but heavily shielded and undoubtedly well armed.

And this time around Lleshi didn't have any doomsday pods available to use against them. Still, they surely wouldn't be able to stand up against the full might of the Komitadji.

Assuming he was able to make such a confrontation happen.

The vector on one of the distant ships shifted momentarily as it moved to keep the Harmonic within the catapult focal area. They were playing this cautious, all right. Lleshi took careful, measured breaths as he kept his eyes moving around the bridge. Win or lose, there was no way he was going to show nervousness in front of the Empyreals.

"Harmonic, you're cleared for Seraph," the voice came. "Fly safe."

"Thank you," Captain Djuabi said. He touched a switch, and the comm light went dark.

"Instructions, Commodore?" he asked calmly.