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Treaty arrangement with the homeworld of the other, the one the Travelers know
as Seeker of the Lost Children.
Sounds like a job description.
Third WatchMaster shrugged. The methane breather calls itself Messenger.
Seeker s home is the Closed Treaty System M. Meddinia, which is in the Sixth
Presidency, near the Atlantean Rim. It s a fixture on the commercial runs in
the Sixth and Second Presidencies. It s been traveling without a destination
for several hundred years. Like the Chief says, it s unsociable. But it pays
well to be carried around and left alone.
WarAvocat nodded. Thin. What about the other one?
A colonial intelligence previously unknown in Canon space. Even ships that
trade Outside didn t know it. It boarded at A. Chancelorii 3B on open
itinerary.
WarAvocat nodded. Chief Timmerbach. Aren t the Manesa Systems, S.L. Manesica
and B.L. Manesia, in the same Presidency as A. Chancelorii and M. Meddinia?
They re neighbors, sir. All part of the same cluster. The Web there is a
tangle, there are so many interconnections between anchor points.
And though it didn t cross paths with you till V. Rothica, the krekelen
began its odyssey on the Cholot world S.L. Manesica 7. Interesting.
The Chief just shrugged.
WarAvocat leaned back, steepled his fingers. The Deified say the chance of a
connection between at least two of the aliens is close to unity.
Third WatchMaster had begun to relax. He had done a good job. No blame on him
if he could not find data that did not exist. Might even be a good mark when
advancement reviews came up....The way WarAvocat looked at him aborted his
confidence.
Strate was going to shaft him.
WarAvocat s thin lips stretched in what he thought was a comradely smile. It
won t be as bad as you think. You could end up elected to WarCrew without loss
of grade.
What the hell? Sir?
I thought you d see it. The Deified want to go after this one.VII Gemina is
headed for V. Rothica. While we re charging around looking for the krekelen s
masters, I want you and a team withGlorious Spent .
Me and a team? Sir?
The soldier got it first. Shee-it! she muttered.
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I m going to put you aboard the Cholot Traveler. The Sergeant will go along.
You ll stay out of sight. Legwork will be handled by people we ll borrow from
P. Jaksonica 3B STASIS on a TAD contract. Otten, I want three good ops,
preferably volunteers.
Often s thoughts left specters on his face.
WarAvocat continued, The krekelen will be reprogrammed, set into Cholot
shape, and put back aboardGlorious Spent .
Magnahs, Otten, and Timmerbach sputtered. Klass swore softly. Timmerbach
found his voice first. Sir! You can t do this!
We can and will, Chief. You ll be paid for your trouble. Might even be a
lifting of the Ban on some Cholot systems. Can you cry about that?
Timmerbach could but kept his mouth shut.
WarAvocat said, Consider the circumstantial evidence. The krekelen started
from a Cholot world and ended up on one, made the last leg from a Merod world
disguised as a Cholot, carrying Cholot documentation, aboard a Cholot
Traveler, accompanied by a member of the Cholot Directorate. Suppose you were
dealing withIX Furia ?
Timmerbach blanched.
IX Furia s style was to shoot first and forget about questions. Or, some
said, to shoot first and then shoot the survivors.
WarAvocat said, Thank you for coming. Commander Haget, you and the Sergeant
get your kits together. You ll find sealed orders at departure bay. I ll talk
to the Station Master, Director, and Chief while you re getting ready.
Those three did not look delighted.
Third WatchMaster shambled toward the exit, deflated. He wished he could
extinguish himself in drink or drugs. The soldier said something he did not
catch. He grunted, trudged toward his quarters. There were people who would
kill for this opportunity. But they had to send him.
It felt more like punishment than reward.
12
The wind licked and pranced through the ruins, muttering and chuckling.
Superstitious DownTowners thought the ruins haunted. The wind carried voices
that said something if you listened closely.
It carried dust and leaves, too. The dust kept getting behind Turtle s
nictating membranes. I d forgotten what it was like out here, he told a
squat Immune called Lonesome Mike. Midnight can t come outside alone.
Lonesome Mike grunted. He was no conversationalist. He had not become Immune
because of brainpower.
Turtle stared across the barrens at Merod Schene. Looks like a dream city
from here. Can t see DownTown at all.
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It was the sort of view that ended up in tourist lures, Merod Schene
glittering against the tapestry of a creeping orange sky, the High City
wavering like seaweed amongst hurrying chubby clouds.
How long we got to stay in that hole, Turtle?
They had moved into the headquarters bunker of an archeological dig abandoned
when an attitude shift among the House Merod Directors had cut off funds. It
was comfortable but primitive. Lonesome Mike objected because he felt isolated
from the action.
Till we find out if Lord Askenasry can get out the garrison. Maybe only a
few days. If he fails, we wait it out.
Turtle figured at least three months before the Guardship came. The Immunes
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