The waiter returned with the wine, and their conversation fell into a more casual track. The meal was good, and the companionship even better.

Still, Susan's mind mulled over what she had just learned. The solar power satellite had not been destroyed, as she remembered. And Hyatt's group was closer to independence than anyone on Earth might suspect.

She relaxed some at the ballet, for the first time in two days. It was just what she needed. She knew she was taking a chance being out-the latest attacker had proved he would strike in a crowd-but she would probably be no more safe in her quarters; the first assailant back on Fleet Base had used a spore-lock scrambler to get into her rooms.

And somewhere out in the crowd, unseen, Clayton watched.

She pushed those thoughts from her mind and sat back to enjoy the performance. She hadn't seen a low gravity ballet in almost ten years, and she had nearly forgotten just how much fun it could be. The dancers were considerably more acrobatic than their Earth-side counterparts, able to do things in Luna's one- sixth standard gravity only dreamed of by those on Earth.

But by the final curtain fear was again gnawing at the back of her mind. There was an assassin out there in the crowd, perhaps more than one, waiting for a chance to kill her. She was making it too easy by taking this night out; there was simply no way she could control the environment sufficiently. At least in her apartment she could exercise some control, and she trusted her own abilities far more than she did Clayton's.

Besides, with these two new bits of knowledge-that Sam Darcy was dead, and that the solar power satellite still hung in Clarke orbit above Luna City-she had enough to think about.

She had Darcy take her back to her quarters immediately following the performance.

"I had a wonderful evening," she said as they approached the door to her quarters.

Darcy smiled. "Are you feeling better?"

"I'm fine," she lied.

He nodded. "I'll call tomorrow. Maybe we can have lunch."

"That does sound good." Susan turned to the door and it irised open. A Fleet uniform lay on the floor, caught in the light slicing into the dark room. Everything had been in order when she left with Darcy, all her clothing unpacked and hanging neatly in the closet.

She stepped away from the door and it irised closed.

"What's wrong?" Darcy asked. He took Susan by the shoulders and turned her toward him. "What is it?"

"Someone's been in my rooms?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," she said, then realized that her strange ability had not warned her.

They were silent for a few seconds. Finally, Darcy said, "We'll go in together. You know the room's layout-what side is the light switch on?"

"Left."

"When we enter, step to the left. Flatten yourself against the wall just out of the door's sensor range. I'll go to the right. Find the light switch. When the door closes, wait a few seconds, then turn the light on."

Susan nodded, took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. She would do her best to let him take charge; she had to maintain her cover. Besides, his plan was sound.

Turning from him, she stepped to the door. It irised open again, and she went in quickly and stepped to the left, flattening herself against the wall. Darcy entered immediately behind her and disappeared to the right.

The uniform lay two feet ahead and to her right. It looked like a handless, headless body laying face down on the carpet. Darkness cut it off just below the knees. Then the door closed and the room went dark.

Cautiously, Susan worked her way along the wall to the light switch. She reached out, felt it with the sensitive tips of her prosthetic fingers. After waiting a few seconds, she threw the switch.

The light came on, and she gasped. The closet stood open and empty, her clothing strewn everywhere. All the furniture was overturned. The bed's mattress had been slashed repeatedly, its stuffing scattered about the room. Even the contents of the small bathroom had been dragged out and dumped in the middle of the bedroom floor.

"What the hell happened here?" Darcy asked from the other side of the door.

Susan put a finger to her lips, then pointed to the bathroom. Although her ability had not warned her, whoever had ransacked the apartment might still be present. Darcy nodded and advanced cautiously toward the darkened room.

He disappeared into the bathroom, and a few seconds later its light came on. "No one," he said, re-entering the bedroom.

Stepping up to Susan, he took her by the shoulders and held her at arms length. "Now," he said, his voice suddenly stern, "tell me what's going on."

"If I told you, you wouldn't believe me," Susan said. "Besides, I can't."

Darcy frowned. "What do you mean, you can't? What are you involved in, Susan?"

She wanted to tell him. She wanted to sob against his chest, blubbering her entire story while he stroked her hair. But she couldn't. If she told him what was happening, that might somehow jeopardize her assignment. It might be cancelled, and she could not allow that for any reason; this was probably her last chance to get back into deep space. And she couldn't let anything stand in the way of that.

Besides, she wasn't entirely sure she could trust him. And even if he wasn't involved in this, whoever was after her could use him against her.

She shook her head. "I just can't," she repeated.

"If that's the way you want it…"

"That's the way it has to be."

Darcy nodded. "One thing is certain: you can't stay here tonight. They- whoever they are-might return."

"Someone is expecting to contact me here."

"You can leave a message. You're coming home with me tonight, where security is considerably tighter."

"But-"

"No buts. Make your call, and we'll leave. And don't tell them where you'll be. Just give them this number." He spoke five digits. "It's unlisted and private."

He was right. She would be much safer with him tonight. And she didn't want to be alone.

She took a step back, out of his grasp, then looked around the room. They had trashed her quarters thoroughly.

Why? What were they looking for?

The pendant.

She fingered the lump of dull gray metal hanging from its chain around her neck. It had to be the pendant. It had saved her once.

But that didn't make sense. The first attack, in her rooms back on Fleet Base, had occurred before she had possessed the pendant. Yet, why else would her rooms here in Luna City be searched?

The pendant was part of it. Although it probably wasn't the only cause for what had been happening to her, it might explain some of it.

But why were they after her in the first place? Why did they want her dead?

Perhaps it was her assignment with Survey Service. Those behind Hyatt's impostor would want her out of the way if they thought she might be sent after him.

And then there was Aldebaran.

She stepped around a pile of clothing, went to the phone and placed a call to the Survey Service duty desk. She kept visual off so they would see neither Darcy nor the condition of the room. They would think she was merely undressed.

She could do nothing to let Clayton know.

Two extremely capable-looking young men in Luna City police uniforms stood guard outside the entrance to the mayor's apartment. The quarters were large and luxurious, but still without the more expensive wood furnishings.

Susan slept in a guest room, on a huge round bed, beneath an old-fashioned feather comforter, alone. Under ordinary circumstances she and Darcy would have slept together, but Susan was too confused for that now. Too much had happened during the past few days, too much for which she had absolutely no explanation. Darcy understood, and respected her privacy.