Flexing his hands again, he called up the sherlocks he'd specifically designed, and set them onto the code. At once they went to work, and again his icon wavered in a foggy line. This would not take long, though, he suspected. He reached for another tube of jakek, flicked the heat tab with his thumbnail as his eyes watched the screen, where his sherlock programs continued their patient unraveling.

He was halfway through the tube when the icon clicked once again into a firm line. He keyed the console, and the codes flickered into readable script.

Paging down through it, he scanned through his blurring eyes, just to make certain it made sense; then he set up some search fields and set them going. This time it only took seconds to scan.

When he saw the results, he let out his breath in a big sigh, got up, and hit the door control.

It was time to dump everything into Jellico's lap.

The subdued booms and thuds of footsteps on the outer lock ladder made both Jellico and Rael Cofort look up quickly. Rael Cofort passed by in silence, going in to the mess. Jellico remained where he was, and half a minute later, there was Dane Thorson's tall, lanky form. Rip Shannon's dark, pleasant face was at his shoulder. "Cap'n?"

"What's the word?"

Thorson spread his huge hands. "Dead space," he said. "Until the Festival of the Dancing Sprool is over-whenever that might be." He frowned suddenly. "Hell! Is that the name of the Shver hibernation period? If so, we're sunk-they hibernate for three months! I'd better check-" He ducked out, and they heard the click of his magnetic boots going up the ladder to the main computer databank.

"What happened?" Cofort asked from the mess hatchway.

"We went back, just as we were told to," Rip said. "But they told us that we had to continue our business with the Jheel that had begun to help us. And when we asked for him, we were told just what Dane told you-that he'd withdrawn from duty for this festival, and he'd return when it was over. All his business would have to wait."

"No one would cooperate?" Jellico asked, his suspicions intensifying as he walked with his navigator apprentice into the mess cabin.

Rip gave his head a quick shake. "On the contrary," he said. "The other workers who spoke Terran were really apologetic. One woman even tried to help, but she said that the Jheel had put a lock on the Starvenger Starvenger inquiry, so she could do nothing. She said they earn promotions by how many jobs they successfully complete, so it wasn't surprising." inquiry, so she could do nothing. She said they earn promotions by how many jobs they successfully complete, so it wasn't surprising."

Jellico frowned. "This is not how Trade does business-"

"-in Terran space," Cofort added, from the other side of the cabin.

Jellico finished, "-and we're not in Terran space. Right."

"Three months," came Dane's doleful voice from the hatchway. "They hibernate for a full three months."

"How hibernation can be called 'Dancing' anything, I don't understand," Rip said dryly. Then he turned a serious look to the captain. "I know you and Jan are trying to get us a cargo as soon as possible. Does this mean we have to drop our inquiry as a bad business?"

Jellico was watching Cofort, who stood by a bulkhead, her dark blue eyes narrowed in an expression of abstract concentration. "On the surface it would seem so," he said. "We'll think it over."

Both young men looked relieved, and moved to draw some food from the server. Jellico knew what those expressions of relief meant: they both were confident that The Captain Would Think of Something.

He hefted his tube and moved out of the galley to consider what he had heard. As he started toward his cabin, he saw Karl Kosti coming up toward the galley.

The big man was frowning, which was not in itself a cause for alarm.

"Rough crowd," Karl said as he moved on past.

Jellico turned and watched, wondering what that portended; it was rare for the most taciturn member of the crew to offer any kind of unasked-for comment.

The answer was immediately forthcoming. The intercom tone sounded, and Jasper Weeks, who was currently manning the bridge, said, "Captain?"

Jellico reached for a wall console and tabbed the key. "On my way."

Moments later he was in the bridge, as Weeks, with an apologetic expression on his mild, bleached-pale face, played back the message just received.

A Shver visage appeared on the screen, gray, wrinkled, and glowering. "Am I Lictor of Monitors of Harmony, and the Shauv of Clan Norl. Have I instructions for you, in accordance with the Concord of Harmony. Initiating a fracas, has committed your unit Karl Kosti. Required of you is confinement to your vessel of said unit for the remainder of your stay." There was no further word, and the image blanked.

Jellico reached to hit the com, then pulled back his hand when he saw Kosti standing right behind him. "What's the story, Karl?"

"Wasn't me started that fight," Kosti said. "Riffraff from a company ship, strutting big-"

"You learned how to ignore that kind of talk when you were half-grown," Jellico said, exasperated.

Kosti gave a brief nod, impassive as a rock. "Brag talk is so much noise. Talk about how Free Traders are barely legal thieves, and how they jump ships to claim derelicts-that I couldn't sit by and eat. Especially when ignoring them would have been agreement, in which case half the spacers there were ready to lynch me," Kosti added reflectively.

"So there's talk about our claiming the Starvenger? Starvenger?

Weeks said quietly, "It's to be expected gossip would get out. How many ships come out of jump and find an empty sitting on their jump point?"

Jellico said, "But if talk is going around about our having pulled in a derelict, then it should mention that our vids of the catch were legit-and accepted by Trade as so."

Kosti shook his head. "All I can tell you is what I heard. It was humans who started it, three cargo wranglers off that Deneb-Galactic ship docked down that way." He jerked his head in one direction. "Monitors pinned the blame on me."

Jellico felt and suppressed a flash of annoyance. No use in lodging a formal complaint with Trade over what might turn out to be a lot of gaseous talk in a bar. "We'll comply, of course," he said. "You may's well take your turn out at the Starvenger Starvenger-replace Thorson. I need him here anyway."

Kosti gave his short nod and moved silently away.

Jellico tapped his fingers on the arm support of his command pod, trying to sort through his reactions. There was too much bad luck here, but it all seemed random and unconnected. He'd be a fool to give in to conspiracy suspicions without some hard evidence of connections-if any.

He said to Jasper, "Carry on," and got up from his seat.

In the doorway to the hatch he met Tang Ya. The Martian colonist's eyes were red-rimmed, his face lined with exhaustion. "My algorithms cracked that code," Ya said, grinning despite his evident tiredness.

Jellico let out a sigh of relief at the first break they'd had since Flindyk had given them the spool to speed along their business. "Good work," he said. "What did you find?"

Ya said, "I think you'd better know this first." He handed Jellico a printout on which he read the date of the insurance quitclaim, registered in local time. Jellico had seen that before. He swallowed his impatience and read on-freezing when he saw the date in Terran Standard.

He looked up at Ya, whose wide-set eyes were narrowed to slits of perplexity. "That's not the only mystery," the comtech said. "The lab record is mostly a kind of diary mixed in with daily reports on the hydroponics. I haven't read it all, only done a couple of searches. One thing I came up with," he said slowly, "is the fact that there's no mention anywhere of the Starvenger Starvenger, or of Olben Kayusha or Nim Miscoigne."

"Odd, but possible," Jellico said. "You could ask how often Frank mentions the ship he's lived on for years-or my name-down in his logs."

Ya nodded quickly. "I thought of that, but none of it explains why the writer of the record called that ship Ariadne Ariadne."

9.

Rael Cofort scrutinized the image on the screen: a woman, short gray hair, intelligent brown eyes, weathered skin, age probably somewhere in her seventies. Plain tunic in the Deneb-Galactic colors, its only ornamentation the captain's bars on her high collar. A lifetime spacer, and probably at least half of that life a captain-probably the same personality type as Miceal Jellico. the image on the screen: a woman, short gray hair, intelligent brown eyes, weathered skin, age probably somewhere in her seventies. Plain tunic in the Deneb-Galactic colors, its only ornamentation the captain's bars on her high collar. A lifetime spacer, and probably at least half of that life a captain-probably the same personality type as Miceal Jellico.

And there was no mistaking the honesty in both face and voice as she said, "I questioned all three separately, Captain, and while details varied, one common fact emerged: they all had overhead someone discussing your ship and crew. Begging your pardon, they were told that, under the guise of Free Trading, you went about hijacking innocent ships. Though I don't condone their actions, you can understand how that kind of gossip would rile them."

Jellico said, "I can indeed. Act first, questions later. It's happened to my own crew. And they won't stomach space pirates any more than the Company crews."

Captain Svetlana pursed her lips. Her expression was so very akin to Jellico's-a distaste for the necessity of the encounter, but lurking humor at the vagaries of crew members-Rael felt a laugh bubbling up inside her, and controlled it. This incident might be explained, but the situation was only becoming more sinister.

"Did they say who told them this information?" Jellico went on.

Captain Svetlana's brow furrowed slightly. "There is another of the places where the narrative diverges. Corsko insists she heard it from some Terrans up at the gym, but Kherddu says he got it in one of the eateries, from Kanddoyds, and Lu Nguyen swore that he overheard a Shver Monitor pointing out one of your crew-tall? yellow hair?-as a hijacker when he was passing back and forth to Trade Center."

Jellico's mouth was now a grim line, all humor gone.

"I've brigged my three for seventy-two hours for brawling," Svetlana went on. "If you'd like to question them yourself, please come aboard anytime."

"For now, I don't think it's necessary," Jellico said, his words clipped short. "But I appreciate the invitation, and will keep it in mind. Thank you for your time, Captain Svetlana."

"You're welcome, Captain Jellico," Svetlana replied formally, and the screens blanked.

Jellico turned around to face Rael, his eyes distracted. "What do you make of that?"

"She seemed absolutely honest. If she isn't, then she's one of the greatest dissemblers I've ever witnessed."

"That was my impression as well," the captain said. He fell silent, his gaze still on Rael's face. His thoughts were obviously distant as he contemplated this latest twist in what was shaping up to be a strange puzzle.

Rael waited, and presently the ice-blue eyes focused, and saw her her. And she felt the look, a visceral reaction that quickened her heartbeat and made her want to smooth her clothing and twitch at her hair, and then he looked away. A little wail of rueful laughter ran through her mind: how many times had this occurred since she came on board the Solar Queen Solar Queen?

How many times would it still occur?

Many, and many, and it seemed all would lead to nothing.

He said abruptly, "I sent Van Ryke to Trade to run queries on all ships registered with Ariadne Ariadne in their titles. I think I ought to run a double check against whatever records Ross keeps. Do you have the time to accompany me? I confess I want someone to talk this over with." in their titles. I think I ought to run a double check against whatever records Ross keeps. Do you have the time to accompany me? I confess I want someone to talk this over with."

"I'd be glad to go," Rael said promptly. "Craig is on duty right now. I'm perfectly free, and to tell the truth, if I get any more curious, I'm likely to implode."

"The more I look at this, the more it seems that someone doesn't want my boys to find out anything about the Starvenger Starvenger."

"Are you going to ask Dane and the others to drop the inquiry?"

Jellico stood in the hatchway, frowning. "Finding out the data doesn't matter to me. The past is past. If it turns out there's a wrong buried there, though, it does matter: we owe it to our brethren in Trade to right it if we can. I'm not going to pull the boys back, at least not yet. If we end up having to move to the heavy area to save money, then we will. In fact, when Stotz gets back, I'll have him make the change. Meantime-" Jellico reached for the com. "Jasper, I'm going to run some queries by the legate."

"Aye, Captain," came the prompt reply.

They talked very little on the journey to the legate's quarters, despite the fact that there was little to see.

"Moving to high grav has one other advantage," Rael said.

Jellico didn't speak, but he glanced at her in mute question.

"We'd have better scenery on the ride." She gestured at the gray blur of the tube walls enclosing the maglev capsule.

Maglev routes from high grav cut through Shver territory on the surface, and, as the Shver did not like enclosed spaces, the view on those routes was said to be spectacular.

Ross was there, and he seemed incurious when Jellico asked if he would run a search on ships with the name Ariadne Ariadne. The legate's expression was oddly abstract as he keyed in the search parameters. Silence weighed in the office as they waited for the computer to run its search.

Presently the light flickered green, and Ross scanned rapidly the data on his screen. "Since the legation's establishment three hundred forty-two years ago, twenty-six ships with 'Ariadne' somewhere in their name have docked at Exchange, five in the last ten years: Ariadne's Web Ariadne's Web, the Diana and Ariadne, Ariadne's Star, Hellene Line: Ariadne Diana and Ariadne, Ariadne's Star, Hellene Line: Ariadne, and Theseus-Ariadne Theseus-Ariadne. The Hellene Line Hellene Line is here repeatedly, about every six years." is here repeatedly, about every six years."

"Any of those reported lost, stolen, or dead?" Jellico asked.

"I've no Patrol flags on any outside of Ariadne's Web Ariadne's Web, which was fined for attempting to smuggle in klifer-dust-an airborne scent which is lethal to Kanddoyd biochemistry," Ross replied. "To find out which have been decommissioned or otherwise taken out of service, your questions ought rightly to be submitted to your headquarters at Trade Central." He looked up, his long face narrowing in sudden suspicion.

"We're doing that," Rael said smoothly. "It's just that our stay is necessarily limited, so we thought we'd do a crosscheck here at the same time as our cargo master is at Trade."

Ross gave a nod as he wiped his screen blank. "Your business is rightly Trade's; they ought to be able to give you complete data."

And that was that-dismissal was clear in the man's voice. What was he hurrying to? Rael couldn't help thinking as they walked out of his quarters. Back to designing his holographic rose garden?

"I don't like him," Jellico said as they walked onto a maglev pod. "Seems he's got a cog loose."

"Well, it's the Patrol's job to be suspicious. If we were to tell him that Trade is not cooperating with us, and he hears of those rumors-"

"We're likely to be brigged first, and our ships impounded, and asked questions later," Jellico finished. "Thought of that too." He rapped on the chair arm with his fingers, then said, "Let's go somewhere. Get something to eat, thrash this out."

"All right," Rael said, inwardly amused. His manner was abrupt and distracted-not at all what one would expect of a man asking a woman for her company. He could have used the same tone with Van Ryke or Steen Wilcox, his oldest crew, she thought-except he wouldn't have been so abrupt.

On impulse she glanced at her chrono and said, "Not the concourse eateries. Let's go up to the North Pole. I've always wanted to try the Movable Feast, ever since I heard about it. My treat," she added.

He gave her a twisted smile. "I don't eat my crew's earnings," he said. "I'll pay for myself. Otherwise, lead the way."

Rael talked easily as they traveled up the core of the tower, pausing only momentarily as the capsule made the giddy swing around into the microgravity of the Spin Axis. She spoke mostly about her initial visit to Exchange. Jellico seemed mildly interested, at least enough to distract him from his problems. "... so Teague and I went up to the Movable Feast, just to find out that it was closed. It seems the owner, a Kanddoyd named Gabby Tikatik, was molting, and if he can't be there everything stops. Supposed to be quite a character."

Jellico was looking around, interest apparent in his light eyes. The lines of his face were not as severe, and again Rael felt that frisson of attraction, of the desire to protect, to please. She would exert herself to entertain him, to take his mind off his problems just as long as he needed.

"So what's special about this place?" he said. His head was turned; he appeared to be watching the sudden blooms of open space through which the capsule was passing, from tube to spindly truss, across vast tunnels spiderwebbed with light and shadow dwindling in immense perspective. Rael wondered how he could do so without vertigo. "Aside from the fact that it appears to move up and down from the Spin Axis."

"Teague told me the story," she said as the maglev debouched them into a station and they followed a group of glittering Kanddoyd merchants into the Movable Feast. "It's one of the oldest establishments on the cylome-predates even the Concord. Apparently life was somewhat wild and lawless out here-it was an outpost for Traders, smugglers, and outright pirates, no questions asked. The first proprietor, surprisingly enough, was a human, named Gabby Grimwig. It was his idea to establish a fine restaurant here, where the view would be spectacular and the diners could choose their grav levels-or even eat while the grav changed."

"An interesting but repellent idea," Jellico said.

Rael laughed, thinking of the spectacular changes gravity had on some food and drink substances. "The idea was that all the diners would agree on the level and change time."

She paused as a feline biped from the mysterious Enkha System bowed them in, her graceful form clad in a green tunic that floated out behind her in the micrograv. She led the way to a table in a section designed for Terran body types. Rael glanced around, gained a swift impression of comfortable pods arranged in terraced layers in a half-circle. Exotic plants screened each dining pod from the others, but all had a view along the length of the habitat. It was evening, the radiants overhead dimming to a soft glow reminiscent of a full moon on Terra, and the lights of the Shver dwellings far below gleamed softly yellow, lapping up and over in the curving sky to either side like constellations distorted by the gravity of a black hole. The vast towers of the Kanddoyds, lit not with discrete point sources but with gracefully twining tubes of light, shimmered like wrinkled ropes of silk binding a curving earth to narrow heaven.

"Choissess for delectable viandss the exssalted guestss will find here," the Enkhai said in her soft, musical voice, touching the corner console. "Either automated or ssentient sservice available. Dine well!" With a graceful flick of her tail she bowed again and moved swiftly away.

As soon as she was gone, Jellico looked up inquiringly, and Rael continued. "The problems were evident right away. It seemed no matter what kind of beings were in, they always seemed to prefer grav at another level. Traders then being as ready to settle things with fists, teeth, or tentacles, as some are now, there were frequent fights. After Gabby Grimwig's place was trashed one too many times, he made some changes. One, to hire Shver as security. Two, he decided the place would stop at regular intervals, signaled by light flashes, so it was up to the eaters to determine when to come and what grav they wanted to finish their meal in. And three, diners were to eat in harmony. No arguments, no duels, nothing but polite social exchange. Anyone breaking the rules got handed over to him for justice, which he executed in... imaginative ways."

"Like?" Jellico regarded her with a fascinated gaze.

Rael suddenly felt mischievous. "Well, one diner had to choose between three unmarked containers, with the understanding that he had to eat everything in the one he chose." She paused, watching Jellico's eyes. Again the habitual hardness had eased; she saw interest, and fainter, appreciation.