"BE CALM! I WILL SAVE YOU. THE ADMIRAL YOU APPOINTED IS USELESS IN THIS EMERGENCY HE DOESN'T KNOW THE STATION AS I DO.".

"Because, Madam," and the admiral appeared on cue in one open door, his aides spreading out on either side of him, hands on the holsters of their dart guns. He had an on-deck voice that could be heard without amplification. "You have tampered with the main control systems. I am the officially appointed Station Manager."

"I SHOULD BE. I WILL BE." Barchenka's wild gestures had opened a path between her and the admiral. He advanced to confront her. "NO ONE KNOWS THIS STATION AS DO, WHO HAS PUT EVERY RIVET AND GIRDER IN IT. YOU SHALL NEVER RUN IT WITHOUT ME. I WAS GOING TO EXPLAIN HOW MUCH YOU NEEDED ME BUT SOMEONE CORRUPTED MY SPEECH DISK." Her eyes were bulging, her face suffused with blood, the cords in her neck visible with her tension.

The admiral came to an abrupt halt, shaking his head in outrage at her ranting as Rhyssa, desperate to offer such help as her people had available, reached into his opened mind. She was startled to hear Peter's voice already there. Mention pa.s.sword, Admiral. Ask her about the pa.s.sword. Mention pa.s.sword, Admiral. Ask her about the pa.s.sword.

The admiral gave his head one more shake, eyes sliding quickly to Johnny Greene, whom he knew to be a Talent. He took another step forward, just as a thin arm in blue reached out of those near Barchenka and touched her shoulder.

"You've changed the pa.s.sword, have you, Barchenka?" The admiral said and, with an effort the Talents caught, gave her an amused smile. "That's why the systems won't respond. You've over ridden the codes you only just gave me."

"I HAVE CHANGED ALL. SPECIAL PROGRAM ONLY I CAN OPERATE," she cried dramatically, thumping her chest with her free hand. "NO ONE ELSE WILL EVER RUN PADRUGOI s.p.a.cE STATION BUT ME!"

Shelkoonchik? What does that mean? What does that mean? Peter asked. Peter asked. Sounds Russian with that 'chik' at the end of it. Madlyn, are there any Russian speakers on the Station? Sounds Russian with that 'chik' at the end of it. Madlyn, are there any Russian speakers on the Station?

Hundreds down in the grunt and offie levels.

No, no, someone in a command position.

Johnny Greene's amused voice answered. Yes, the Maintenance Supervisor, Koryakin. He's still trying to get the lift to work. Yes, the Maintenance Supervisor, Koryakin. He's still trying to get the lift to work.

Koryakin! All three 'pathed the name at once. Their effort was met with silence. All three 'pathed the name at once. Their effort was met with silence.

He only receives, guys, Madlyn added in a droll tone. Madlyn added in a droll tone.

Koryakin, the pa.s.sword has been changed to shelkoonchik, Peter said, his mental tone so intense that even Madlyn winced. shelkoonchik, Peter said, his mental tone so intense that even Madlyn winced.

Did he hear that? Rhyssa asked. Rhyssa asked.

Every receiving telepath on the Station heard that, Johnny Greene said, imaging himself tenderly touching his ear hole. Johnny Greene said, imaging himself tenderly touching his ear hole.

The admiral had come within inches of Barchenka now, almost a stroll of an approach. Certainly he did not act either cowed or subservient as he stopped just short of the semicircle of her white-coated guards.

"As the duly appointed Manager of Padrugoi, I must inform you that your deliberate attempt to undermine my authority can be considered an act of mutiny."

"MUTINY?" She threw back her head and howled with laughter. "When you can control nothing of this Station and all these-" She swung her arm to indicate the prestigious and important government officials in the stunned a.s.sembly. "Are hostages. Guests," she amended, "my guests until MY appointment is irrevocably confirmed."

That provoked angry denials and restlessness from an audience that included every world leader who had wished to attend the Inauguration of the s.p.a.ce Station, which their own security guards had cleared as "absolutely safe." From several directions, angry men and women charged her position. And aborted their charge when her white-coats produced illegal heat-guns and let off bursts of energy, searing the attackers. Their cries of dismay ended abruptly as Barchenka's forces swung their weapons from one side of the crowd to the other. The wounded were eased back, out of sight.

Is anyone badly hurt? Rhyssa asked on a broad band that would reach anyone in the crowd with minimal Talent. Rhyssa asked on a broad band that would reach anyone in the crowd with minimal Talent.

No, ma'am. The ones I can see just got a warning crease. But that means those white-coats know how to shoot. Rhyssa couldn't recognize the speaker's mental tone: whoever he was, he was "shouting" to be heard at all. Anger had probably given him more range than normal. Rhyssa couldn't recognize the speaker's mental tone: whoever he was, he was "shouting" to be heard at all. Anger had probably given him more range than normal.

"You want to get back to Earth?" Barchenka was saying now, her smile malicious. "Obey me. Any further display of insurrection," and her broad smile dared a response as her eyes swept the subdued crowd, "and my troops will see how fire-resistant your fancy outfits really are. I'll s.p.a.ce ANYone who defies me. I, Ludmilla Barchenka, who MADE this Station, I am in complete control."

In the stunned silence that now held the a.s.sembled, the little bleep was all the more audible.

"Are you?" asked the admiral gently, his manner relaxed.

"What was that?" Ludmilla launched herself angrily at him and gestured for two of her guards to cover him. The admiral didn't resist when she wrenched off his wristcom and, dropping it to the floor, stamped on it, kicking it away from her when she couldn't break the impact-resistant case.

"You will be first to breathe s.p.a.ce, Coetzer," she said, shaking her fist at him. Then she spoke into her own wrist unit. "Yellow Team, to the reception area. You'll see, Coetzer. You'll be admiral," admiral," and she snarled the rank in a contemptuous voice, "of deep s.p.a.ce. And that," she waved her arm to include the audience, "will be the fate of all who defy me." Then she stopped, peering into the crowd, searching avidly. and she snarled the rank in a contemptuous voice, "of deep s.p.a.ce. And that," she waved her arm to include the audience, "will be the fate of all who defy me." Then she stopped, peering into the crowd, searching avidly.

Who's she looking for? Madlyn said, trying to shelter herself behind Dave's large frame. Madlyn said, trying to shelter herself behind Dave's large frame.

Me, said Johnny Greene blithely, said Johnny Greene blithely, but she won't find me. Watch out, Havers. She knows you by sight, too. Are you far enough back in the crowd, Rhyssa ? She'll also come after you. but she won't find me. Watch out, Havers. She knows you by sight, too. Are you far enough back in the crowd, Rhyssa ? She'll also come after you.

"Yellow Team, what's keeping you?" she demanded angrily into her wrist unit.

That's more than enough of this sort of entertainment, Johnny said cryptically. Johnny said cryptically. Ready, set, GO! Ready, set, GO!

NOW! The clear mental command was not in General Greene's voice. Suddenly the grilles on apertures halfway up the inner walls crashed down to the floor and those white-coats nearest reacted, blasting at the metal plates. To be shot down by the many standard tranquilizer rifles that appeared in the openings. The clear mental command was not in General Greene's voice. Suddenly the grilles on apertures halfway up the inner walls crashed down to the floor and those white-coats nearest reacted, blasting at the metal plates. To be shot down by the many standard tranquilizer rifles that appeared in the openings.

"What the-" Ludmilla began.

As she raised her hand to redirect her troops' weapons, a dart smacked into her throat. Even as she collapsed, tranquilizer darts rained down on her cohorts. A few, who had dropped to their knees and turned their weapons upward, were not hit. Abruptly every one of those threw their weapons away as if too hot to handle. On the hands held up in surrender, Rhyssa saw the unmistakable red burn welts.

Which they are, Peter said smugly. Peter said smugly. t.i.t for her tat! t.i.t for her tat!

The admiral stepped forward and removed the wristcom from Barchenka's limp arm and the weapon from her hand.

"Now hear this! Admiral Coetzer speaking. Ludmilla Barchenka has been taken prisoner. Surrender without further violence, and I guarantee safe return to the planetary surface. This mutiny is now over. Surrender to Station personnel immediately and in an orderly fashion. I repeat, Ludmilla Barchenka is under guard and her illegal force is disarmed. This is Admiral Coetzer speaking. This Station is now back under my command.

"Distinguished guests, ladies and gentlemen, please be calm," and now he held his hands up, circling to be sure that he could be seen. "Are there any medical personnel who can attend our wounded?"

Johnny Greene suddenly levitated in front of the admiral, appearing to hesitate midair, reaching out with his right hand to deflect or catch something.

Got it! Johnny cried, dropping to his feet again as he showed the knife that had been thrown at the admiral. In the same second, one of Barchenka's thugs who was kneeling on the floor, doubled up, screaming in pain. Johnny cried, dropping to his feet again as he showed the knife that had been thrown at the admiral. In the same second, one of Barchenka's thugs who was kneeling on the floor, doubled up, screaming in pain.

"I suggest that no one else attempt a similar breach of common sense," Johnny said, slowly rotating on his heel to survey Barchenka's mutineers. Pete, can you do a shield around the admiral? We're not home clear yet. Pete, can you do a shield around the admiral? We're not home clear yet.

Sure! Peter Reidinger, looking frailer than ever against the tall, well-fleshed admiral, stepped to his side and projected an invisible barrier. Peter Reidinger, looking frailer than ever against the tall, well-fleshed admiral, stepped to his side and projected an invisible barrier.

"Secure that man," the admiral said, gesturing for two of his aides to deal with the writhing would-be a.s.sa.s.sin. Then he noticed Peter. "Ah!"

"You need Pete fight now, Admiral," Johnny said quickly in an undertone. "He's that skeleteam I'm sure you've been briefed on."

The admiral raised his eyebrows in surprise, gave Peter an abrupt nod, and then continued to issue crisp orders.

"If some of my fellow guests would be so good as to collect the arms." Both male and female guests leaped forward immediately. Some of them cautiously nudged the weapons out of reach or gingerly touched the handles in case of residual heat. The arms were dumped in a pile that Johnny Greene then "lifted" out of the reception area.

Rhyssa crouched down by Ludmilla Barchenka's limp body and pushed her beret back, exposing the shiny skullcap that had prevented any telepath from reading her mind.

"Oh, my word!" Rhyssa. exclaimed. When she lifted the closefitting metal plate off, a round patch of bare skin, reminiscent of an ancient monk's tonsure, was revealed; bare skin further increased the protection offered by the cap.

"No wonder she felt dense," Gordon Havers remarked.

"It figures," Johnny Greene agreed after a quick glance. Then he grinned at Rhyssa. Not that I'd like to peek into her twisted mind but someone may have to, to make sure we've arrested everyone involved in this little, ah, mutiny. Not that I'd like to peek into her twisted mind but someone may have to, to make sure we've arrested everyone involved in this little, ah, mutiny.

Rhyssa gave a little shudder of revulsion and stood up, hands clasped together under her chin in distress. Dave put a comforting arm about her shoulders.

"General Greene?" Admiral Coetzer asked, beckoning for Johnny to come closer. He looked meaningfully at Peter, who was in earshot in his protective position.

"I'll vouch for Pete, Admiral," Johnny remarked in a low voice. Then he c.o.c.ked his head, indicating he was all attention.

"How much of a force do you have, Greene? Enough to deal with this . . ." the admiral hesitated over a choice of words.

"Mutiny, Coetzer?" And Johnny's ineffable humor provoked a slight twitch of the admiral's lips. "I don't have a 'force,' just some volunteers in strategic places." He pointed up to the open grilles. "Another group reports that they tranked her Yellow Team in the hall so you don't need to worry about her being reinforced." Johnny ducked his head, scratching the nape of his neck and grimacing in embarra.s.sment. "Your own personnel should be yours to command again . . . once we find your wristcom. Ah, thanks, Pete," he said as a wrist unit was teleported against his medals. He grabbed it.

"Thank you, Pete," Admiral Coetzer echoed, turning to the thin youth at his side before repossessing his communicator. His regard of his youthful guard was more interested than patronizing.

The military and naval guests had taken it upon themselves to secure Barchenka's whilom guards, conscious or tranquilized, a.s.sisted by Johnny's irregular troops. Leaving some on guard in the apertures, trank rifles trained below, others dropped from the hatches to secure the insurrectionists. Moments later, Admiral Coetzer's Station personnel arrived to take official charge of the captives.

Barchenka's limp body was soon draped over several chairs, strands of sweaty blond hair lying across the shaved pate. Though the drug in the dart would keep her unconscious for several hours, her hands and feet had been yoked as a precaution.

Meanwhile, recovering from the confrontation, other dignitaries had decided that now was the appropriate time to circulate refreshments. Since the waiters and waitresses were unavailable, guests performed such duties, pouring gla.s.ses of the inaugural champagne, wines, sodas, juices, and liquors set out on the tables. Some were pa.s.sing trays of canapes and other finger foods, setting aside their official positions to help restore some semblance of "occasion" in the reception area. Those who had been unduly distressed by the shocks of the last hour were being comforted. Noise soon reached a normal level for such a gathering.

"Greene," the admiral said, after answering another bleep on his wristcom. "CIC reports shuttles leaving that were not cleared. Possibly some mutineers are trying to escape. I'd prefer not to christen the Station's defense system today, but the crews are not responding to orders to stop."

"An exodus like that can best be handled from Station control, don't you agree?" Johnny said, gently guiding the admiral toward the nearest exit. "We'll need the services of our Voice," he added, beckoning Madlyn to come forward. We might need everyone in CIC " might need everyone in CIC "I believe you've already met Ms. Luvaro, Coetzer," and when the admiral acknowledged that with a little bow to her, Johnny went on. "She's been our Station-to-Earth contact and she'll be very useful right now. I don't believe you've met Rhyssa and Dave Lehardt. Rhyssa's . . ."

"By reputation certainly I know Ms. Lehardt and her husband," the admiral said graciously, gesturing for the small knot of psychics to accompany him. "And Justice Havers. Though I haven't formally met Mr. Baden," he said, turning to Lance with an extended hand. "Your superb management of the Bangladesh Emergency was a fascinating advertis.e.m.e.nt for kinetics."

"Not as much as today was," Lance replied drolly.

On their way to the lift, they pa.s.sed knots of white-coated men and women now guarded by personnel of Coetzer's command.

"Admiral, sir," Madlyn began tentatively, "you gotta rea.s.sure the grunts."

"I beg your pardon?" The admiral leaned slightly toward the Voice who was trotting to keep up with his long stride.

"The workers, down below, they're terrified of Barchenka and they think she's still in control. If you don't tell 'em you are, they might do just about anything."

"That will be our second task, Ms. Luvaro. You can't, by any chance, rea.s.sure them yourself?"

"Me? They wouldn't hear hear me, sir. None of 'em are receivers. It's your voice they need to hear on the audio. They liked you, you know. You didn't sniff or cover your nose when you visited their quarters. me, sir. None of 'em are receivers. It's your voice they need to hear on the audio. They liked you, you know. You didn't sniff or cover your nose when you visited their quarters.

Coetzer's lips twitched in an effort not to smile as he adapted his stride to her shorter one, taking her by the arm and guiding her into the lift.

"I'll see if we can't improve those conditions, Ms. Luvaro."

"They'll work their b.u.t.ts off for you if you do, Admiral," Madlyn said feelingly. "Oh, you know they will, Johnny," she added forcefully as she caught the general's amused reaction to her candor. "Only I still don't understand why Barchenka picked such a crazy pa.s.sword. She hated music and wouldn't let anyone even whistle in her presence."

The Admiral chuckled. "What better one to choose than something totally unsuspected. Since shelkoonchik shelkoonchik means nutcracker, and one figures in the Tchaikovsky ballet, it was relatively obscure, given her habits. Koryakin told me the composer was a famous Russian." He turned toward the psychics for their opinion. means nutcracker, and one figures in the Tchaikovsky ballet, it was relatively obscure, given her habits. Koryakin told me the composer was a famous Russian." He turned toward the psychics for their opinion.

"He is indeed," said Gordon Havers. Well done, Pete! Neat way to disarm opponents, too. You must tell me how you heated up their weapons. Well done, Pete! Neat way to disarm opponents, too. You must tell me how you heated up their weapons.

It seemed a good idea, Peter Reidinger replied modestly, but his visible smile was broad enough for two faces. Peter Reidinger replied modestly, but his visible smile was broad enough for two faces.

You did real good, Peter. Real good. Madlyn looked up at him so adoringly that Peter edged closer to Rhyssa as the lift doors parted on the Command level. Madlyn looked up at him so adoringly that Peter edged closer to Rhyssa as the lift doors parted on the Command level.

"Admiral on the bridge," said the sentinel at the lift as Admiral Coetzer walked into the Control Intelligence Center, the CIC, of Padrugoi s.p.a.ce Station.

3.

Once in command, Admiral Coetzer contacted the commandant of the International AirForce to dispatch Earth-to-Padrugoi (etop) fighters to prevent the three shuttles-which did indeed contain Barchenka's a.s.sociates-from making good their escape. Scenes of an unconscious Ludmilla, white-coats packed into the Station's brig, others surrendering, patched through to the shuttles' screens, were sufficient proof of the mutiny's total failure. Coetzer repeated his guarantee of safety. Two vessels immediately hove to, awaiting an AirForce escort. The third changed trajectory and, throttles on full, tried to lose pursuers. Coetzer did not hesitate and authorized the etop pilots to use the missiles with which their fighters were armed. The resultant explosion was vivid enough to be visible from both the Station and the American East Coast, which was at that moment pa.s.sing underneath the Station. A brief newscast rea.s.sured the public, promising a full report later that day. David Lehardt, in his role as the Eastern Parapsychic Center PR chief, helped the admiral's public relations staff to put together what the public needed to know. A full investigation of the circ.u.mstances was to be carried out and the results made public at a later date.

In his initial report, General John Greene, on detached service to the Padrugoi Shuttle Squadron, crisply explained that he had possessed insufficient creditable data to present to his superiors: certainly nothing to suggest that a mutiny was being planned by Ludmilla Barchenka. He pointed out that the most sensitive of precognitive Talents, Amalda Vaden, had "seen" nothing. He himself had no vestige of the precognitive aspect of psionic Talent. On recent trips to and from Padrugoi, his interest had been caught by nebulous rumors from the grunts being returned to the surface. Nothing concrete, merely the vague and somewhat inarticulate mental anxiety of his pa.s.sengers and the relief they felt when they had reached Earth again, as if they hadn't expected to survive. Enough, however, for him to become alert and to take such precautions as he could with a limited number of dedicated Talents. His personal doubts had been partially confirmed when Barchenka was so eager to clear the Station of all telekinetics and when she had "neglected" to send invitations to prominent personages like Justice Gordon Havers and Rhyssa Owen Lehardt. He was, however, aware of the grievances Barchenka harbored against those people that could certainly be the reason they had been excluded from the invitation list. When she began importing "additional catering staff," one of the Talents (Madlyn Luvaro) asked him to find out how large a catering staff for the Inauguration should be. He had privately instigated a check on the extra personnel that Barchenka was hiring to serve at the Inauguration ceremony. Except that few of them had had any previous catering experience and they all came from Slavic nations, he couldn't contest their employment. Their numbers, however, were far in excess of what a reputable catering firm would employ for a similar occasion.

Though Amalda, the Washington precog, could not give any substance to Johnny's "hunch," he decided to take certain precautions. If he was wrong, he could deal with that. Being right was unacceptable unless he prepared for that possibility. With the lowest grunt-level living quarters being closed down, it was relatively easy for Johnny to hide those who volunteered to remain on the Stationjust in case. Nor was it difficult for these men and women to infiltrate the larger air-conditioning conduits and stand a discreet vigil during the ceremony.

When, after the fact of the Mutiny, he taxed Mallie Vaden about her lack of "foresight," she replied in her own defense, "If the circ.u.mstances hadn't hadn't been altered by you, the Mutiny would have succeeded and I would have 'seen' it. Only you intervened so it didn't happen for me to 'see.' Simple!" been altered by you, the Mutiny would have succeeded and I would have 'seen' it. Only you intervened so it didn't happen for me to 'see.' Simple!"

Barchenka's Mutiny had been stealthily plotted. For instance, her personnel manager, Per Duoml, had known nothing about it.

"As much because he was an honorable man-in his own way-and too upright to have condoned a takeover," Rhyssa remarked.

"Not that so much," Johnny Greene added in private to the other Talents after they had given their testimonies to the investigating committee, "as the fact that he had finally become disenchanted with our dear Ludmilla and, in the last month or so, had begun to distance himself."

"Did he do so because he suspected her mutiny?" Justice Havers asked. He would have loved to have sat on the tribunal appointed to hear Barchenka's case, but having been on the Station, he was considered prejudiced. Another prominent American jurist had been chosen for the panel of five.

"Couldn't say, Gordie," Johnny replied with one of his shrugs. "Duoml turned his office over to Coetzer's personnel manager the day before and was out of there like he couldn't wait to get downside." Johnny paused. "Of course, you might conclude that he knew something was up but he sure didn't want to be involved."

Fortunately, the subsequent mental probe of Duoml by Jerhattan LEO Commissioner Boris Roznine, who had been a.s.signed to the unsavory duty by the international investigators, exonerated the man of any complicity.

"Writhing with distaste and considerable animosity toward Barchenka," Boris later told his twin brother, Sascha, "but without personal involvement. I think, though he hid it well, he had his suspicions. There're enough involved as it is. Including, and you'll love this, old Flimflam, Ponsit Prosit."

"Who?" Sascha gaped at Boris in astonishment. Sascha had deliberately put the scam artist out of his mind once the man had been a.s.signed to Padrugoi as a janitor in the grunt level.

"Yup. Dirt loves dirt and he'd've loved doing the dirty on any Talent."

"Just don't," and Sascha paused significantly, "even think think of that scuzball near Tirla." of that scuzball near Tirla."

Boris gave his brother a do-you-think-I'm-crazy look. "Nor in the vicinity of Rhyssa and Peter. They've all put that kidnapping behind them and it'll stay there."

"And Flimflam?" Sascha's voice and manner had hardened.

"Well," and Boris shrugged, "I don't think Barchenka trusted him any more than we do. He was supposed to do one of his brainwashing Religious Interpretation gigs on offenders, to get them to support her. I get the impression he isn't the least bit rehabilitated. Bets a lot, but there's no law against that up there. He can work all the scams he wants on offies and grunts. I warned Commander Ottey in Padrugoi security to watch out for any further problem from him and, well . . ." Boris left the rest of his sentence in the air. Sascha understood what wasn't said.

"And his Royal Highness Prince Phanibal Shimaz is safely on First Base?" Sascha asked.

"The penal unit there is isolated from the main blocks," Boris replied. "Colonel Watari's tough. Goes by the book. Shimaz is out of the way for good. That child-farm of his was too much even for his family." Then Boris sighed deeply. "And speaking of debas.e.m.e.nt, I hope I'm not required to probe Ludmilla again." Despite his long service with Law Enforcement and Order, Boris gave a shudder of revulsion.