Dragon and Judge

"Virgil Morgan hasn't got a sentimental synapse in his entire body," the other voice said firmly from the room's emptiness. Or rather, from the glowing-light desk, the same way Uncle Virge's voice came out of the walls aboard the Essenay. "I'll want to see these papers when you get here."

"Four more days," Frost reminded him. "Unless you want me to transmit you some copies."

"No, I can wait for the originals," the other said. "Right now, I'm more concerned about this girl you've picked up."

"What about her?" Frost asked. "Your stakeouts on Semaline seemed to think she knew what she was doing."

"They'd better be right," the other warned. "We're starting to run low on time here."

"You want me to test her myself?" Frost offered. "By my count, you've got four separate safes aboard this ship."

"Very amusing," the other said, his voice suddenly stiff. "Don't worry, I'll test her myself."

"I thought we were running low on time," Frost reminded him. "Besides, it might be interesting to see what you have stashed away in there."

"Don't push your luck, Colonel," the other warned, his voice turning even darker. "Not with me."

"Warfare is luck, Mr. Neverlin," Frost countered in the same tone. "And ours, I think, has just improved a little."

Taneem felt another shiver run up her back. Mr. Neverlin, the man Jack and Draycos had told her about. No wonder his voice had chilled her the way it had.

"We'll see, Colonel," Mr. Neverlin said softly. "Just remember that it's our luck, not just yours."

"You just make sure Patri Chookoock understands that," Frost retorted. "I'll see you in four days." He leaned over to the desk and touched a switch.

Some of the desk's lights went out. For a moment Frost just sat there, glaring at the far wall. Then, with a snort, he gathered Alison's papers together from the desktop and put them back in the bag. With the bag dangling from his hand, he stood up and strode from the room.

Taneem lay where she was, trying to decide what to do. She could continue on through the ducts and try to track Frost back to his own room. Maybe she would have an opportunity there to get the bag back.

But Frost had talked about giving Alison more safes to open. If he went straight there, she would have no warning of this new test. No, Taneem had better return at once.

Turning around in the narrow space proved harder than she'd expected. After a few failed attempts she hit on the plan of going to the next duct, turning into it, backing up, then turning again into her original duct. Taking care to move silently, she headed back.

She had gone perhaps half of the distance when she suddenly realized that the scents coming from the grille directly ahead weren't ones she'd smelled before.

She moved up to the grille and peered through. Beyond was some kind of food preparation room, with neat rows of cookware and large and gleaming rectangular boxes. From two of the boxes were wafting aromas similar to those of their morning breakfast bread.

Backing up a step, she turned her neck around to look behind her. The last intersection she could see looked familiar, but it clearly wasn't. Somehow, amid all the ducts and cross-ducts and grilles and risers, she had taken a wrong turn.

She was lost. Completely and thoroughly lost.

CHAPTER 10

With a start, Alison came awake.

For a moment she lay still, trying to figure out what had disturbed her. Beyond her closed eyelids the room was still dark, so it wasn't the false dawn Frost had programmed into the ship's mood lighting system to mark the beginning of ship's day. There were no sounds of movement, either, so Taneem wasn't off on one of her midnight wanderings around the room.

Taneem.

Alison reached into the neck of her nightshirt and touched her skin. A K'da in two-dimensional form didn't have much of a feel about her. But there was some, and that feel was very definitely not there.

She opened her mouth to call, then changed her mind. Hunching her way instead to the nightstand, she switched on the bedside light.

The lamp was set on low, though to darkness-adapted eyes it still was uncomfortably bright. She squinted away from it a moment until her pupils had adjusted, then gave the room a quick scan.

Taneem was nowhere to be seen. Swinging back the blankets, Alison got out of bed. Maybe the K'da was in the bathroom.

And then her eyes fell on the air system grille. Not fastened to the duct like it was supposed to be, but casually propped up against the wall.

Apparently, Taneem had decided to go off exploring.

One of the room's chairs had an especially high back. Dragging it over, Alison leaned it against the wall beneath the opening and climbed up. Carefully, she eased her head into the duct.

Nothing was visible. "Taneem?" she called as loudly as she dared.

There was no answer. Hopping down from the chair, she went to the desk and picked up her pocket flashlight.