Hanan was waiting for them around the corner in a line car. "Now, that was a masterpiece," he said with a grin as the two of them piled into the line car with him. "You know, Chandris, you have the makings of one of the all-time greats."

"I'll stick with the quiet life, thanks," she said. "What did you write in those letters, anyway?"

"Trade secret," he said. The grin was still in place, but as Chandris looked closely at him she could see the weariness setting in as the adrenaline-driven thrill of the morning's events faded away. The weariness, and the pain he'd been trying so hard to hide. "So, Jereko. Where should we drop you off?"

"The Gazelle," Kosta told him. "It should be ready to fly by now, right?"

"Right," Hanan said, frowning. "You realize, of course, that's the obvious place for them to start once they sort out the mess upstairs."

"Let's hope they think it's too obvious," Kosta said firmly. "But either way, the Gazelle it is."

He looked at Chandris. "I've got some experiments to run."

The sprinklers had been shut down and the more hysterical partic.i.p.ants hustled out, but the scene was still one of chaos when Forsythe arrived.

"What happened here?" he demanded.

In that first flurry of responses he got five different answers, all of them mutually contradictory, none of them making much sense. But through it all, one fact became clear as a winter morning.

Kosta was gone.

Slowly, crunching through scattered papers and desktop equipment, he crossed the room toward his open office door, his feet making unpleasant noises as they squished through the waterlogged carpet.

"When did this happen?" he asked the soaked office manager.

"Not fifteen minutes ago, High Senator," the manager said. He looked remorseful, embarra.s.sed, and

furious all at the same time. "This man called claiming to be-"

"Thank you, I heard," Forsythe said, dismissing the man with a curt wave of his hand. Stepping into his office, he gazed at the empty room, the weight of the gun hidden beneath his jacket tugging at his soul like a lump of frozen guilt.

The gun he had brought to use on Kosta. A gun with which he'd planned to kill a man in cold blood.

What in the world had he been thinking of?

He shook his head, wondering what had happened to him. His private refusal to accept an angel in

the first place had been on purely moral and ethical grounds. Or so he had thought. And now, to

conceal that decision, he'd been prepared to commit murder.

Could everyone else have been right all along? Was there something about the angels that politicians genuinely did need?

Could his father have been wrong?

There was a rapid crunching of wet papers from behind him. "High Senator," Pirbazari puffed, coming up beside him. "I just heard. He's gone?"

Forsythe nodded. "He's gone."

Pirbazari swore under his breath. "I'll get an all-grid alert out immediately. We'll get him back. Him,

and the rest of his Pax team."

He spun around. "Don't bother," Forsythe said, catching his arm. "It wasn't any Pax commando team that did this."

Pirbazari frowned at him. "What do you mean?"

"Look around you," Forsythe said, waving at the office workers cleaning up the mess. "No one hurt,

no real threats made, no weapons drawn except for a silly fake knife hilt. Not the sort of subtlety you would expect from people who would build a ship like the Komitadji."

"Then who?"

"Who else?" Forsythe said. "Our young liner stowaway and professional con artist, Chandris Lalasha."

Pirbazari's forehead wrinkled. "She could have been the girl," he conceded slowly. "But someone said there was a man involved, too."

Forsythe hesitated. It was obvious from the description that the man had to have been Hanan Daviee, fresh from his stint at the hospital. But Pirbazari apparently hadn't gotten the full story yet. "Probably one of her friends," he said. "She's been here for months now. Plenty of time to build up contacts."

"So where do we start looking?" Pirbazari asked. "Standard underworld hideaways?"

"As I said, don't bother," Forsythe told him. "We've got enough trouble as it is without having to worry about a minor Pax spy and his criminal friends. Do we have an ETA on the Komitadji yet?"

Pirbazari took a deep breath. "It should reach us about two this afternoon," he said, his voice heavy with reluctance. "Sir, I strongly urge you to reconsider. Kosta may indeed be only a minor spy, but he could still cause a great deal of damage. Particularly if he's hooked up with criminals. At least let me send someone to the Gazelle-they might stop by there to get some of the girl's things or clean out the Daviees' cash supply."

"No," Forsythe said firmly. "You don't think they would have planned this better than that? Wherever they're running, they're well on their way by now."

"Yes, sir," Pirbazari said, clearly still not happy but knowing an order when he heard it. "There have been some more developments with Angelma.s.s, too."

Forsythe grimaced. "More trouble we don't need," he said. "Come on. You can brief me on the way to EmDef HQ."

All right, Kosta, he thought as they again pa.s.sed through the lingering chaos Chandris and Hanan had left behind. If you really want to go out to Angelma.s.s and take a look, you've got a clear shot at it. I suppose I owe you that much.

And if all that had been simply a ruse? If what Kosta had been doing was playing on Forsythe's sympathies and fears so as to break free and engage in the kind of sabotage Pirbazari obviously expected from him?

In that case, he now had a clear shot at that, too. Either way, whatever happened would be on Forsythe's head. Penance, as it were, for his sin of deception.

And for his sin of pride.

The police weren't waiting when the line car pulled up to the Gazelle's enclosure. But there was a lone visitor pacing restlessly back and forth in front of the gate.

It was Ronyon.

He was at the line car's side even before the vehicle had rolled to a complete stop. I've been waiting for you, he signed, his hands again moving so fast in his agitation that Chandris could barely keep up.

"It's okay, Ronyon, we're here," Chandris said as she opened the door and climbed out. "Are you

okay?"There's big trouble. Oh-Jereko, Ronyon added as Kosta climbed out of the line car behind Chandris. Mr. Forsythe let you go?

"What's going on?" Kosta muttered as he turned to help Hanan out. "You can understand him?"

"Mostly," Chandris said, keeping her face turned so that Ronyon could see her lips. She'd always

hated it when people talked behind her back; Ronyon probably felt the same way. "He says there's trouble."Kosta snorted. "Yeah, I'll bet."Trouble with Angelma.s.s, Ronyon signed. It's moving!"He says Angelma.s.s is moving," Chandris translated."What's that?" Hanan puffed as Kosta got him out of the line car. "Moving how?""Rising and sinking in its...o...b..t," Kosta said. "Forsythe's aide Pirbazari was talking about it last night.

I tried to tell them about the intelligence experiments we did on angels, and what that might mean for Angelma.s.s itself. I don't think they believed me."

Ronyon's eyes were wide. Intelligence? he signed. You mean Angelma.s.s is smart?"We're not sure," Chandris admitted, glancing around. Still no police in sight, but that could change any second. "Let's get inside. It'll be a lot more comfortable."

"And Ornina probably has the teapot on," Hanan added, limping noticeably as he headed for the

hatchway. "Last one in has to wash the dishes."

Ornina did indeed have the teapot on. Five minutes later, they were all squeezed around the galley table, a steaming cup of tea in front of each of them. "All right, let's dig into this thing a little more,"

Hanan said. "I suppose I can accept this song and dance about how Angelma.s.s could be intelligent-"

"Speak for yourself," Ornina murmured.

"-but even if I give you that," Hanan went on, ignoring the comment, "how can it possibly change its...o...b..t? There aren't any forces acting on it, and it hasn't got any reaction ma.s.s it can throw away."

"Actually, in a sense it does," Kosta said. "Those focused radiation surges, remember? It may be that

it's using those like a jet exhaust. Sort of like a natural ion drive. I tried to find out from Pirbazari whether that was part of it, but he never answered me."

"Part of it?" Hanan prompted.

"Problem is, that's a pretty slow way to go," Kosta said. "Ion drives just don't turn out much in the way of acceleration. For Angelma.s.s to be making enough headway for them to evacuate the station, there has to be more to it."

"Wait a minute," Ornina said. "They're evacuating Central? They never evacuate Central."It's already empty, Ronyon signed."Maybe not before, but they're doing it now," Kosta said. "Forsythe gave the order last night. I don't know whether or not it's been carried out."

"Ronyon says it has," Chandris said, watching the big man's hands as he continued signing. "They sent a shuttle... and as of four o'clock this morning, everyone was back on Seraph."

Ornina shook her head. "I don't believe it," she said, half to herself. "Central has been open

continually since it first went online eighteen years ago. It's like the end of the world."