It took four tries, but finally Louis hit the target dead on, with just the right momentum and gentle thruster pressure. Aegis Aegis clung like a remora to a shark-only attached from the inside. clung like a remora to a shark-only attached from the inside.

Louis glanced across the bridge. "Whatever you need to do, do it quick."

Nessus seemed even more manically wild-eyed than usual. His mouths clutched the hyperdrive controls!

On Louis's console every instrument blanked out-except one. The mass pointer flared to life, blue lines radiating from its center to show nearby stars. As abruptly they dropped to normal space. A few seconds later, radar picked up a debris field. Argo Argo had broken apart! had broken apart!

Louis knew it was useless to ask why.

Something clattered off Aegis Aegis' hull and Nessus flinched. "We are still here," Nessus said, his voice giddy with relief. "Once again, Achilles was mistaken."

15.

Louis tossed and turned, afloat between the plates of his cabin's sleeper field. He had too much pent-up energy, and too much on his mind, to sleep. The tension between the two Puppeteers was palpable, and Louis did not relish the long trip to Hearth.

As he reached for the touchpoint to collapse the sleeper field, his doorbell chimed.

He did not have have a doorbell. a doorbell.

If Louis had had eyes and ears in his hands, he would not knock, either. A Puppeteer could easily imitate a doorbell chime. "Who is it?"

"Nessus," came the soft answer. "May I enter?"

A second surprise. Nessus had never visited Louis in his cabin. "A moment." Louis dressed hurriedly, even while doubting Nessus would care about human nudity, and unlatched the hatch. "Please come in."

Nessus quick-stepped through the doorway. He backed into a corner and, twitchier than usual, closed the hatch behind him. "We must speak."

Louis said, "You first."

Nessus pawed once, nervously, at the deck. "I have instructions for you, Louis, matters you are not to discuss while Achilles remains aboard."

Had the Puppeteer had a onetime lapse in his Interworld skills? "While Achilles is around."

"No!" Nessus fixed Louis with a two-headed stare. "As long as he is on Aegis. Aegis. Achilles is a highly skilled technologist and I am not. Some of our supplies or seemingly innocuous shipboard devices might be altered to serve him as sensors. We might fail to notice." Achilles is a highly skilled technologist and I am not. Some of our supplies or seemingly innocuous shipboard devices might be altered to serve him as sensors. We might fail to notice."

"Bugs," Louis translated. "Cameras and listening devices."

"Exactly."

"I see." Louis leaned back against a wall, frowning, thinking it through. "So you gamble in telling me this now."

Nessus looked himself in the eyes. "I gamble that bugging a human was not his priority. That, and that not even Achilles can easily bypass the biometric hatch lock I have activated for your cabin. The sensor pad outside your door is presently in setup mode. Press your hand to the pad to complete its initialization. Within your cabin, at least, you will have privacy."

From Achilles, perhaps. How many sensors had Nessus planted? He could have enabled the lock long ago. Louis asked, "What are my instructions?"

"To begin, no interaction with Voice outside this cabin."

"I don't understand."

"All of us, in our own ways, pick and choose among rules. It would be impractical to testify against Achilles if my own ... shortcuts ... became known."

Shortcuts like an illicit AI. Nessus had just volunteered that he could be coerced! He needed Louis's cooperation, obviously. But was this revelation a token of trust, a sign of desperation, or a subtle reminder that Louis was expendable?

The one certainty was that Nessus revealed nothing without premeditation.

"What else, Nessus?"

"Codes for you to memorize." Nessus plucked at his mane. "I take another shortcut."

"What sort of codes?"

"Galactic coordinates and control sequences for emergency communications. Clandestine Directorate maintains its own network. If something should happen to me"-with one mouth, Nessus twisted and gnawed on a tress deep within his mane-"use them."

"And don't reveal them to Achilles."

For a moment, Nessus stopped tugging at his mane. "If something happened to me, who but Achilles would be responsible?"

Finagle, Nessus was serious serious about this. Louis held out his pocket comp, activating the unit with his voice- and thumbprints. "Go on. What are the codes?" about this. Louis held out his pocket comp, activating the unit with his voice- and thumbprints. "Go on. What are the codes?"

Nessus dictated long strings of digits and still insisted Louis memorize the information. He already had a head full of transfer-booth addresses, totally useless information. This data was no harder to memorize.

And, hopefully, equally useless.

After Louis correctly recited the codes enough times, Nessus went on. "Next, no discussion with Achilles of our mission or how we happened to find him. For your own safety, Louis, you have never heard of Sigmund Ausfaller, Beowulf Shaeffer, New Terra, or the Gw'oth. And you are unaware of any nonstandard autodoc we might carry, for Baedeker believes it embodies advanced nanotechnology that could be misused. If Carlos Wu should be mentioned, Wu is an exceedingly common human name and Carlos Wu means nothing to you."

"I suppose I won't be discussing those subjects with you, either."

"Not while Achilles is on this ship. Not until engineers I trust have scoured it for sensors."

That did not leave many topics. "Tell me this, Nessus. I can understand Citizens taking human names to interact with us, for yourselves and your ships. But why mythological names?"

"You will not be offended?" Long pause. "Humanity's enduring myths speak essential truths about you. We find them fascinating."

"And the name you picked must speak an essential truth about you."

Nessus plucked at his mane and said nothing.

Nessus definitely sounded mythological, but it was too obscure for Louis. Maybe Voice would know, if he would admit to it. On the other hand ... definitely sounded mythological, but it was too obscure for Louis. Maybe Voice would know, if he would admit to it. On the other hand ...

Achilles. The legendary warrior favored of the gods, all but invulnerable. The loner who sulked in his tent to protest his share of Trojan booty. The legendary warrior favored of the gods, all but invulnerable. The loner who sulked in his tent to protest his share of Trojan booty. Argo Argo was little better. It was the sailing ship aboard which Jason and a band of adventurers sought to plunder the Golden Fleece. was little better. It was the sailing ship aboard which Jason and a band of adventurers sought to plunder the Golden Fleece.

"What do our shipmate's choices say about him him?" Louis marveled.

Nessus put a mouth to the door latch. "If ever you find yourself in doubt whether to share information with Achilles, remember your own question."

Louis raced around Aegis Aegis. He circled decks. He ran from bow to stern and back again, scaling and descending stairways three steps at a go. When mere speed palled, he flung himself to the deck to do push-ups, then jumped up and ran some more. He tumbled and shadowboxed and chinned himself from handholds recessed into the ceiling. Then he started over.

The flight to Hearth would be a long one.

It already was.

Nessus and Achilles could not share a room without arguing. That they did did argue was plain, even though, not speaking Puppeteer, Louis could only guess about what they disputed. argue was plain, even though, not speaking Puppeteer, Louis could only guess about what they disputed.

Still, setting aside musical embellishments, Louis knew scattered words from his studies. Gw'o and Gw'oth were not Puppeteer terms. Neither was Jm'ho, the Gw'oth home world, nor Tn'ho, the leading city-state, nor the Tn'Tn'ho, its monarch.

So some quarreling was about policy toward the Gw'oth. Nessus had admitted to such differences even before Achilles set hoof aboard.

Only now it meant more to Louis. Now he knew two two Puppeteers, and he could compare. Puppeteers, and he could compare.

There were similarities, of course. Nessus and Achilles shared the well-known caution of their kind, carefully skirting door frames and furniture. They had many mannerisms in common. Virtual companions in the digital wallpaper accompanied both along the ship's corridors, and pungent scent wafted from the air vents wherever they trod. That they were here at all, far from Hearth and herd, marked both as-Nessus' term, not Louis's-insane.

And yet the longer Louis shared the ship with them, the more different the Puppeteers seemed.

Nessus discussed; Achilles decreed. Nessus fretted before sending Louis into danger; if Achilles felt remorse for his lost crew, he had yet to show it. Nessus came across, somehow, as a bit daunted by his responsibilities. Achilles was smug about his authority and insistent about his prerogatives.

Louis stopped shadowboxing to resume his dash about Aegis. Aegis. Other than consult with Voice in his cabin, exercise was one of Louis's few outlets. Other than consult with Voice in his cabin, exercise was one of Louis's few outlets.

Any more time in that tiny room would make Louis scream.

Not to mention that what little Voice would reveal about New Terra also made Louis want to scream.

New Terra, until recently, was a world of slaves. That had to be why Nessus erased Louis's ability to find Known Space. Louis could not show the New Terrans the path home.

(But Ausfaller was from Earth! Did Nessus trust Ausfaller Ausfaller not to show the way? Or had Ausfaller, too, had his memories altered? It pained Louis to suspect he and the ARM had anything in common.) not to show the way? Or had Ausfaller, too, had his memories altered? It pained Louis to suspect he and the ARM had anything in common.) And that was why Louis's memories would be purged again before he went home, lest he lead an expedition to New Terra and the Fleet. Beings far braver than Puppeteers would fear humanity's retribution if the Puppeteers' crimes were to become known.

Raiding Pak ships. Consorting with Puppeteers. Whole human worlds unsuspected. A corner of Louis's mind regretted the stories he could never tell his fathers.

Chest heaving, legs aching, Louis eased his pace to a lope. He ended his cool-down routine at the relax room, synthing a drink bulb of iced tea. He drained it and got another.

He had weeks left on this trip. He could not spend that long running, speculating, and raging inwardly at ancient injustices. Gw'oth, New Terra, and his own past were off-limits.

The Pak and their Library were not.

Suddenly ravenous, Louis ordered a five-course meal and several bulbs of wine. Imagining ways to crack open the Library would take his best efforts.

In the bare confines of his "cabin"-nowhere aboard this tiny ship befitted his stature as a cabinet minister-Achilles brooded.

He had much about which to brood: -The criminal ineptness of his New Terran hirelings, and the peril into which they had carelessly plunged him.

-Baedeker and Nike conspiring against him. How convenient for them if that dangerous maneuver with Argo Argo had eliminated their mutual rival. had eliminated their mutual rival.

-Nessus' insolent refusal to acknowledge Achilles' stature, or obey his orders, or even explain how Aegis Aegis had happened upon him. had happened upon him.

-The daily indignity of Nessus ruling aboard this ship.

-The utter humiliation of wearing a stun anklet, as if he he were some common criminal. were some common criminal.

-Locked cabins and storerooms, and whatever petty secrets Nessus hid therein.

-The uncertain future of the Pak artifacts he he had had the genius to pursue. had had the genius to pursue.

-The thinly veiled threats of a trial when he returned to the Fleet.

Achilles circled his tiny cabin, stomping. Nessus: stomp! stomp! Nike: Nike: stomp! stomp! Baedeker: Baedeker: stomp! Stomp! stomp! Stomp!

His enemies stymied him at every turn. They had persecuted him for far too long.

Rule over an arcology had been within his bite until Nessus-a lowly neophyte scout!-had denounced him. Banished to serve as a scout himself, Achilles had distinguished himself and returned to Hearth in triumph.

But he had returned too late. Stomp! Stomp! Nike, become Hindmost, had already surrendered New Terra to rebellious humans. Nike, become Hindmost, had already surrendered New Terra to rebellious humans. Stomp! Stomp!

If only the trampling of cushions could ease his rage.

He, Achilles, found a way to force the humans back into servitude and the Fleet-with New Terra itself promised as his reward. But when Nessus and Sigmund Ausfaller forged some unnatural alliance with the Outsiders, Nike reneged. Stomp! Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!

The New Terran government had already surrendered! When Achilles in his righteous wrath would smash his defiant subjects, Baedeker struck. Literally, struck struck: put a sharp hoof through Achilles' cranium!

He woke directly from the autodoc into a second exile, this time at hard labor on Nature Preserve One. Many years passed before he was deemed "rehabilitated"-and by then Baedeker Baedeker had become Hindmost. had become Hindmost.

So now Baedeker imagined he he would exile or incarcerate Achilles? Never again! would exile or incarcerate Achilles? Never again!

But for the vile conspiracy against him, Achilles could have been Hindmost. Stomp! Stomp! He would have been Hindmost. He would have been Hindmost. Stomp! Stomp! He deserved to be Hindmost. He deserved to be Hindmost. Stomp! Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!

His turn would come.

He had followers among the masses. And, more helpful at this juncture, he had minions throughout the government, especially at the Ministry of Science. Loyal, well-placed minions.

They would attend diligently to the orders he sprinkled in innocuous-seeming messages to ministry personnel.

16.

A man-tall equipment rack, one of eighty-seven from the Pak derelict, occupied the center of a small workroom. Plasteel spars and mounting brackets held the rack firmly in place. Meters, gauges, and analyzers cluttered two workbenches. Cables and adjustable power supplies covered a third. Wall-mounted cameras continuously recorded. Copper sheets lined the walls, hatch, deck, and overhead lest emissions interfere with any of the ship's systems.

Clutching a Puppeteer transport controller, Louis admired his handiwork. A touch would rematerialize the rack in a cargo hold three decks away, for he had mounted the Pak artifact over a stepping disc. That hold was empty, its gravity turned off. Drop from hyperspace, open the hatch, and the rack would blow away. ...

So why did he hesitate?