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when she did wake. Her breathing was slow and steady. There seemed not much
else he could do for her. He looked up to catch the Eurasian girl watching him
with knowing, malicious eyes, and he turned hastily away.
Bothari-Jesek completed her inspection and exited, and he followed in her
trail. She paused to speak with the stunner-armed guard in the corridor.
" - wide dispersal," she was saying. "Shoot first and ask questions later.
They re all young and healthy, you don t have to worry about hidden heart
conditions with this lot, I don t think. But I doubt they ll give you much
trouble."
"With one exception," Mark put in. "There s this dark-haired girl, slim, very
striking - she appears to have undergone some special mental conditioning.
Not... quite sane. Watch out for her."
"Yes, sir," said the trooper automatically, then caught himself, glancing at
Bothari-Jesek, "... uh..."
"Sergeant Taura confirms the report on that one," said Bothari-Jesek. "Anyway,
I don t want any of them loose on my ship.
They re totally untrained. Their ignorance could be as dangerous as any
hostility. This is not an ornamental guard post. Stay awake."
They exchanged parting salutes. The trooper, overcoming reflex, managed not to
include Mark in his directed courtesy. Mark trotted after Bothari-Jesek s long
stride.
"So," she said after a moment, "does our treatment of your clones meet with
your approval?" He could not quite tell if her tone was ironic.
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"It s as good as anyone could do for them, for now." He bit his tongue, but
the too self-revealing outburst escaped it anyway.
"Dammit, it s not fair!"
Bothari-Jesek s brows rose, as she paced along the corridor. "What s not
fair?"
"I
saved these kids - or we did, you did - and they act like we re some kind of
villains, kidnappers, monsters. They re not happy at all."
"Perhaps... it will have to be enough for you just to have saved them. To
demand that they be happy about it too may exceed your mandate... little
hero." Her tone was unmistakably ironic now, though oddly devoid of scorn.
"You d think there d be a little gratitude. Belief. Acknowledgement.
Something."
"Trust?" she said in a quiet voice.
"Yes, trust! At least from some of them. Can t any of them tell we re on the
level?"
"They ve been rather traumatized. I wouldn t expect too much if I were you,
till they get a chance to see more evidence." She paused, in speech and
stride, and swung to face him. "But if you ever figure it out - figure out how
to make an ignorant, traumatized, paranoid stupid kid trust you - tell Miles.
He urgently wants to know."
Mark stood, nonplussed. "Was that... directed to me?" he demanded,
dry-mouthed.
She glanced over his head, around the empty corridor, and smiled a bitter,
maddening smile. "You re home." She nodded pointedly toward his cabin door.
"Stay there."
He slept at last, for a long time, though when Quinn came to wake him it
seemed like not long enough. Mark wasn t sure if
Quinn had slept at all, though she had finally cleaned up and changed back
into her officer s undress greys. He d been starting to imagine her planning
to wear the bloodstained fatigues till they retrieved the cryo-chamber, as
some sort of vow. Even without the fatigues she radiated an unsettling
edginess, red-eyed and strained.
"Come on," she growled. "I need you to talk to Fell again. He s been giving me
a run-around. I m starting to wonder if he could be in collusion with
Bharaputra. I don t understand, it doesn t add up."
She hauled him off to the tac room again, though this time she did not rely on
the ear-bug, but stood aggressively at his elbow.
To the outside eye, she d ranged herself as bodyguard and chief assistant; all
Mark could think of was how conveniently placed she was to grab him by the
hair and slit his throat.
Captain Bothari-Jesek sat in, occupying a spare station chair as before,
watching quietly. She eyed Quinn s frazzled demeanor with a look of concern,
but said nothing.
When Fell s face appeared above the vid plate again, its pinkness was
decidedly more irate than jolly. "Admiral Naismith, I
told Captain Quinn that when I had firm information, would contact
I
you
."
"Baron, Captain Quinn... serves me. Please forgive any importunity on her
part. She only, ah, faithfully reflects my own anxieties." Miles s typical
overflowing vocabulary filled his mouth like flour. Quinn s fingers bit into
his shoulder, silent painful warning that he had better not let his invention
carry him too far. "What, shall we say, less-than-firm information can you
give us?"
Fell settled back, frowning but placated. "To put it bluntly, the Bharaputrans
say they cannot find your cryo-chamber."
"It has to be there," hissed Quinn.
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"Now, now, Quinnie." Mark patted her hand. It clamped like a vise. Her
nostrils flared murderously, but she achieved a faint false smile for the
holovid. Mark turned back to Fell. "Baron - in your best judgment - are the
Bharaputrans lying?"
"I don t think so."
"Do you have some independent corroboration for your opinion? Agents on site,
or anything of the sort?"
The Baron s lips twisted. "Really, Admiral, I cannot say."
Naturally not
. He rubbed his face, a Naismith-thoughtful gesture. "Can you say anything
specific about what the Bharaputrans are doing?"
"They are in fact turning their medical complex inside out right now. All the
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