Timothy Zahn: The Third Lynx

"I'm afraid so," I said heavily. "The Modhri doesn't know who they are yet, of course, or where they're based, or even what their relationship is with us and the Spiders. But he knows now that there's another player in this game. And he's desperate to know more."

"Desperate enough to play Agent Morse against himself?" Bayta asked, clearly still having trouble believing it.

"No, it's much more subtle than that," I told her. "Don't forget, Fayr and I both have military training, and the Modhri knows it. Trying to choreograph a battle without one of us picking up on it would have been way too risky."

I looked back along the Tube, just in time to see the last car of Morse's Quadrail disappear through the atmosphere barrier into the depths of interstellar space. "No, the Modhri colony in Morse is now in what's called deep cover. That means no manipulation, no suggestions, no nothing. Morse is free to do exactly whatever he would if he'd never touched the damn coral at all."

"With the Modhri hoping we'll eventually start trusting him," Bayta said with a shiver. "And maybe show or tell him more."

"With pretty good odds that we would, actually," I conceded. "We don't have a lot of allies in this war. He probably figures that somewhere along the line we'll have to call on Morse for more help."

For a moment neither of us spoke. "The Chahwyn will have to be told," Bayta said at last, turning away from me and starting to walk again. "They won't be happy."

"It's partly their own fault," I reminded her. "The one we met with should have had the Spiders close the door before he came out onto the platform."

"Not that dividing up the blame makes any difference."

"No, it doesn't," I agreed, looking around again. "If it helps any, it could have been worse. A lot worse. The Modhri might have gone bird-in-the-hand and decided that the weapons dump on Veerstu was worth more than possible future information on the Chahwyn. We might still have gotten out, but we'd have left him in possession of the area."

"In which case we'd have invisible weapons to deal with," she agreed soberly. "Maybe other things, too. All those Viper power supplies must mean the place was a supply dump for other equipment besides just the trinaries."

"And nothing he might have dug up would have mattered in the slightest," I said grimly. "If the Modhri had held on to the region, invisible hand weapons would have been the least of our worries."

She flashed me a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

I closed my eyes briefly, visualizing again the horrible revelation I'd had on that horrible morning. "Remember the Ten Mesas, Bayta? Specifically, remember the three big ones with those odd spikes jutting up from one end? Have you ever heard of something that geologically odd that nevertheless repeats itself so similarly on three separate rock formations?"

"No, I don't think so," she said slowly. "Some kind of Shonkla-raa cannon or rocket launcher, maybe?"

I shook my head. "Think about the Quadrail tender we rode on," I said. "Think about the way the loop gantries stick up at one end so as to bring the car's closest bit of matter a little closer to the Coreline."

She frowned in concentration, her eyes gazing unblinkingly into mine. And then, abruptly, she caught her breath. "Are you saying the mesas are—?" She looked furtively around us. "They're spaceships ?"

"Why not?" I asked. "Where better to hide Shonkla-raa battleships than at a Shonkla-raa equipment dump? Besides, we've already seen the Modhran tendency to put all his eggs in one basket. Ten to one that's a weakness that came straight from their creators."

"Oh, Frank," she said, her voice shaking openly now. "If you're right …Frank, we have to destroy them. We have to get in there with explosives and destroy them."

"I wish to God we could," I said heavily. "But that's the very last thing we can afford to do."

"We can do it," she insisted. "Even something that big. We can find a way."

"You don't understand," I said. "We could certainly destroy this bunch. But what if there are more hidden somewhere else? We can't afford for the Modhri to even suspect such a prize might exist out there."

"But—" Bayta took a deep breath, exhaled in a strained huff. "No, you're right," she said reluctantly. "This just gets worse and worse, doesn't it?"

"Life is like that sometimes," I conceded. "A lot of the time, actually. All you can do is deal with the problems as they pop up, and hope the ones you can't solve don't pop up until you can solve them."

I dug into my pocket. "And speaking of solving problems …" I pulled out a small box and handed it to her. "Maybe this will help."

Frowning, she took the box and opened it. "Oh," she said, sounding surprised and puzzled and pleased all at the same time. "Frank, they're—they're beautiful."

I looked over her shoulder at the matching set of necklace and ear cuffs, their intertwined strips of copper, gold, and silver glinting in the light from the Coreline. "I'm glad you like them," I said. "I got them from that Nemut in the Artists' Paradise. They're sort of a peace offering."

"You don't need a peace offering," she said, pulling out one of the ear cuffs for a closer look. "But thank you."

"You're welcome," I said. "Are we …?"

"Yes, we're friends again," she assured me, slipping the cuff onto her ear.

Friends. Earlier, I'd wondered if perhaps I might have drifted a little closer to her than just friendship. But if I had, I had apparently been moved back out again.

But that was okay. Bayta was a good companion, and a good ally, and very definitely a good friend.

We could leave it at that. For now.

"Meanwhile, we can start solving one of our other problems by getting these sculptures to the Chahwyn," she said as she slipped on the other ear cuff.

So it was back to business. Typical Bayta. "Right," I said. "After that, maybe we should look into those crates of coral the Modhri tried to bribe me with."

"Definitely," Bayta agreed. "We can check with the Chahwyn and see if they've learned anything from the Spiders."

"Good idea," I said. "And that, I think, should be enough for our plate for the moment." I cocked an eye at her. "That is, assuming you still want to share the same plate with me?"

"Of course." She gave me a tentative smile. "If you still want me as a partner."

"Well, it's either you or a Spider," I reminded her, patting the pocket where I had my kwi . "And you're definitely better company than any of them are."

She winced. "At least when I'm not being jealous."

"Even when you are." I took her arm. This time, she didn't fight me. "Come on—we've got an hour yet before our train," I said. "If Nemuti bars stock lemonade, I'll buy you a drink."