"Central cabin." answered the Sentient crisply opening the inner hatch before them.

Krinata coaxed Jindigar back to his feet and urged him through the hatchways into the center of the ship where ten acceleration couches were arranged about a central control pillar. Arlai focused a beam of white light on the telemband he'd placed on the arm of the pilot's chair.

She eased the lanky Dushau into his accustomed place and bound the cuff about his upper arm. A display lit on the pillar. The data was far off the Dushau norm.

Arlai's image projected Reside Jindigar. "With your permission, Jindigar, I must revive you for a supreme effort. There are decisions pending only you can make for me. Our lives depend on it, though it risks your own."

Arlai spoke in a modern Dushauni, and Jindigar answered in the same language. "I understand. Do it."

"Relax now," advised Arlai. "This will hit you hard in a few moments." Then, to Krinata he said, "Secure yourself. It could become a turbulent ride."

Krinata knew little of orbital mechanics, had traveled only as a passenger on luxurious liners, but she'd always been addicted to adventure fiction. She was surprised how familiar the lander's fittings were. In moments, she had herself webbed into the adjacent control couch, and her own displays lit. They were little different from any atmosphere flyer's, though the patina of antique design lay everywhere.

"Do you have a free circuit, Arlai?" she asked.

Instantly, a diminutive Arlai appeared on the plotting screen before her. "Surely. You wish a tracking display?"

"Please."

A diagram of their orbital rise and Ephemeral Truth's position track appeared along with a time display. Then other ships in orbit around the busy capital came on display, along with an overlay showing the communications between them. As a further overlay began to wipe across the screen, she said, "Enough. I can barely read this." But she could easily see they had only covered a third of the distance.

How long will it take for someone to discover what I've done? "Arlai, can we get to you any faster?"

"Of course, but it would violate local ordinances. I need Jindigar's order for that. Sorry, Krinata."

Before she could answer, Jindigar rolled his head to glance at her and her scope. He squeezed his eyes shut, rubbed them hard, set the piol aside and pushed his couch up to an alert position. "No speed yet. Arlai. Brief me."

Jindigar's scope lit with a multicolor, multidimensional display Krinata could never have interpreted. The Dushau gulped it in with his eyes, massaging his face and arms as if he ached fiercely but was determined to ignore it. Worry creased his features. "Can you really hold Central's reprogrammers off long enough?"

"'Eighty-five percent probability now that I'm in touch with you again. But they really want to grab Ephemeral Truth. We're the last unconfiscated Dushau ship here. You've got to get me away from here, Jindigar." There was a tremor of real fear in the Sentient's tone.

"I will," promised Jindigar. "Lay in your coded retreat course, and allow me all five departure options."

Arlai brightened. "Executed." There was such relief, relish and delight packed into that one word that Krinata felt for the first time they had a chance.

A new display came on. "Increasing activity," reported Arlai, "hi ground-to-orbit communications. They've spotted my lander. What shall I tell them?"

"We're your supply launch," improvised Jindigar. "Make up a manifest of Sentient replenishments—chemicals they know you already have onboard so they know it's not critical to you, but just routine restocking."

As he complied, Arlai said, "As it happens, that's in fact the case. I've brought up the heavy cargo in my other landers, and sent the light one after you."

Jindigar grinned. Then he glanced at Krinata. "Any minute now Ithrenth will be checking your claims and will discover the ruse. What do you think Rantan will do?"

"There's nothing much he can do."

He appraised her steadily. "You've grown up in a very sheltered life, Krinata. Arlai, do you still have contact with your friend in the palace?"

"Intermittently. She's programmed to be totally loyal to Rantan, and now suspects my actions are not so innocent."

"Ask her to relay my elaborate respects to my Emperor, and the following: Should Ephemeral Truth or its landers be fired upon, the list of habitable planets I've secreted amid the planetary ordnance programs will be obliterated."

"Complying," answered Arlai. "But Jindigar, there is no such list."

"Then create one, in code, of course," suggested Jindigar mildly. "Use member planets of the Allegiancy."

Arlai chuckled dryly. "I wish I could stay to watch their faces when they discover it!"

Horror prickled Krinata's skin. "Do you really think they'd—" It was dawning on her that she was into something way, way over her head. Interplanetary intrigue was to read about, not to live. But she had nobody to blame but herself. She hadn't thought this through. But what else could I have done? All her reasons still stood. To have abandoned Jindigar would have been to abandon her self-respect.

"Krinata, I'm sorry I got you into this. I never should have asked you to help me." Jindigar would have continued his apology, but Arlai interrupted with a contact warning.

"You're onboard," he announced moments later. "Lander bay pressurizing. But Jindigar, ordnance slaves are focusing moon-based projectors at us."

"Prepare for departure option five, then," said Jindigar grimly. He thrust the instrument arms aside. "Come on, Krinata. We'll have a better view from Truth's bridge."

He scooped up Imp, led her into the muted hum of the ancient ship. Corridors were clean-smelling, hatches swooshed open smoothly, gravity was even, and the lift cage moved inertialessly. Every modern improvement had been incorporated without violating the delicate carvings and touches of antique color that decorated every useful device. This wasn't a spaceship. It was a home.

This feeling pervaded even the control bridge where a circular workbench banked with every imaginable type of data terminal surrounded a central well at the center of which was a projected data display.

As they entered, spotlights illuminated keyboards for human eyes while the main lighting was in the ultraviolet more com-

fortable for Dushau. Arlai asked, "Can you see, Krinata?"

"Yes, thank you," she answered as Jindigar handed her the piol and settled in the main control chair.

"Secure yourself in this chair," said Arlai putting a beam of green light on a recliner built for a Cassrian. "But don't worry. The bridge won't feel a thing."

"Don't bet on it," said Jindigar. "Arlai, do you see?"

There was a long silence. Frantically, Krinata tried to figure out her display board. It seemed Arlai was tracking three tiny images rising fast from the planet's surface. In orbit around them, satellites were rotating, unfolding themselves. As she watched, two emitted small blips that had to be missiles, but they weren't streaking toward Truth. They hung in space. Threatening.

"I see it," answered Arlai at last. "He's going to fire on us if we maneuver. Incoming signal, general broadcast." Heralded by the imperial seal. Rantan came on their screen.

"Ephemeral Truth is impounded by my order. If it breaks orbit, it will be destroyed.''

"He's calling our bluff," said Jindigar. "Can you move faster than their Sentients?"

"Much of the ordnance system is busy with self-testing, searching for the planet list. That could give us an edge. Ninety percent chance option five will get us away. Sixty percent chance we'd take a hit. Twenty percent it would be a fatal hit. Those are rough estimates."