His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Or could it have something to do with that liner that left Lorelei orbit an hour ago, just after the Thunderhead took out their kick-pod catapult?"

Lleshi had hoped Telthorst hadn't noticed that. "Yes, the liner is part of it," he confirmed, keeping his voice steady. "We naturally want to cut it off at the catapult before it escapes."

"Why?" Telthorst demanded. "At their current acceleration, it'll take them nearly as long to get there as it will us. Long before then the absence of scheduled kick pods will certainly have alerted the enemy to our presence here. What do we care if they leave with confirmation that the Komitadji is in Lorelei system?"

His eyebrows lifted. "Unless, of course, you have other plans for the liner. Or for the Komitadji."

The man was definitely smarter than he looked. "What other plans could we have?" Lleshi asked.

"None, I hope," Telthorst said darkly. "Because as I'm sure you're aware, your orders are to take and hold Lorelei system."

"My orders are to bring the worlds of the Empyrean under the authority and dominion of the Pax,"

Lleshi said, enunciating each word precisely. "My initial strategic instructions are to take and hold Lorelei system."

"To use as a bargaining chip to force open the rest of the Empyrean," Telthorst bit out. "That means you are to sit and hold and consolidate."

"The Balaniki group is already holding the net," Lleshi countered. "When the Macedonia group reaches Lorelei, they will hold the spacelanes around the planet. My orders make no mention of sitting."

"I see," Telthorst said, his voice deadly quiet. "So in other words, victory is as good as achieved.

Congratulations. So what are your intentions?"

Lleshi looked him straight in the eye. "The Supreme Council refers to this campaign as a rescue mission," he said. "Our stated purpose is to save the people of the Empyrean from the ongoing invasion of angels."

"And?" Telthorst prompted.

"It therefore seems only right," Lleshi said, "that we push our attack into our true enemy's home territory.

"I am therefore taking the Komitadji to Angelmass."

Telthorst's face went rigid. "What?" he snarled. "If you think you can—"

He choked down the rest of the sentence. "That's an insane move," he said instead, his voice still tight but under control again. "You saw what happened on our first trip to Lorelei. The minute we show up in a Seraph net, they'll throw us straight out again."

"I know." Lleshi gestured to the display. "That's why I need that liner."

"Explain."

"You don't give the orders aboard this ship, Adjutor," Lleshi reminded him. "You'll see when we get there."

Telthorst glared at him with an expression that was pure hatred. "I could give the orders aboard this ship, Commodore," he said quietly. "I could declare you incompetent and take command. Despite your obvious contempt for the Adjutors, I do have the authority to do that."

"Perhaps," Lleshi said. "But only if you can persuade everyone else aboard to believe you. And can prove me incompetent."

For a long minute the only sound was the hum of soft conversation from the command deck below.

On the balcony itself, no one spoke, and Lleshi had the odd impression they were all holding their breath. Perhaps they were. "In two days there will be no need for me to prove your incompetence,"

Telthorst said at last. "You'll have proved it for me."

"Perhaps," Lleshi said. "Until then, I am still commander of this ship."

Telthorst's eyes darted to the tactical display. "And what does the commander choose to do about those incoming enemy ships?"

"I've already told you," Lleshi said. "Commander Campbell?"

"Harpies locked onto incoming spacecraft," Campbell said briskly and, to Lleshi's ear, with a note of quiet relief in his voice.

"Fire Harpies," Lleshi said, his eyes still on Telthorst.

"Harpies firing, sir."

Ornina shook her head. "Who would have believed it?" she murmured.

"I'm not sure I believe it myself," Kosta admitted, searching her face and Hanan's for some clue as to what they were really thinking about all this.

As if he, with his eight whole weeks of secret agent training, would be able to decipher any such clues even if he did spot them. "But even if I'm misinterpreting the facts, the facts themselves are still there."

"I believe it," Hanan said, his pinched face thoughtful in the dim light. "So many other things suddenly make sense now."

"Like Ronyon's fear reaction when we hit the system," Chandris said. "Somehow, he was able to sense it in a way the rest of us couldn't."

"Yes; Ronyon," Hanan said. "Other things, too. Do you remember what Jaar Hova was like, Ornina, when he first started flying his huntership?"

"He was a nice man," Ornina said, nodding. "A bit gruff around the edges, but essentially a nice man."

"He wasn't very nice to me when I came looking for a job," Chandris murmured.

"No, he wasn't very nice at all there at the end," Hanan agreed. "So many of the others have gone sour, too. Or bitter, or just plain mean. I've always assumed it was the stress of an angel hunter's life that had gotten to them. Perhaps instead it was all that time spent close to Angelmass. Close to all that evil..." He shivered. "So what do we do about it?"

"The first step is to prove there actually are such things as anti-angels," Kosta told him. "Either to find a pseudo cloud chamber track or, even better, to actually capture one."

"What about the damage to our angel?" Hanan suggested. "Can't you use that as proof?"

"We're not using it," Chandris said.

"No, but—"

"We're not using it," Chandris repeated, her tone accepting no argument.

"She's right," Kosta seconded, mildly surprised that he was on her side on this one. From the quick look she shot him, she was apparently surprised, too. "Besides, all it proves is that something is happening out there. We still need an anti-angel to show what that something is."

"All right," Ornina said, a sudden decisiveness in her voice. "What do you need from us?"

"I can get the test equipment together," Kosta told her. "At least, I think so. What I need is a ship to take it out to Angelmass."

"That means the Gazelle," Chandris said. "So we need you to get repairs started on it as soon as you can."

Ornina pursed her lips. "I can try," she said doubtfully. "But Gabriel's repair schedule has always been something of a work of fiction."

"We don't need Gabriel," Chandris said. "You get a private repair firm on the job. I'll supply the money to pay for it."

Ornina looked at her. Shifted her eyes to Kosta; back again to Chandris. "May I ask how?"

"Legally," Chandris assured her. "That's all you need to know."

"Of course it'll be legally," Hanan said firmly. "We know that. All right, that's the rest of you. What about me?"

Ornina frowned. "What about you?"

"What's my job in this?" Hanan asked.

"I think lying there getting well should about cover it," Kosta said.

Hanan drew himself up, or at least drew himself up from the neck up. The rest of his body didn't seem to want to move. "Now see here, everyone," he stated with exaggerated dignity. "I am the captain of the Gazelle; and the captain does not simply lie around while his ship is on a mission."

Ornina drew herself up, too. "Hanan—"

"Compromise," Kosta put in quickly. "We've got at least a couple of days' work ahead on the ship before we can head out. If, Hanan—if—you're a good boy and you lie there and heal, we'll think about taking you with us when we go."

"That's better," Hanan said, blandly mollified. "Wise old ship's captain, you know. Fountain of knowledge and sage advice—"

"Or failing that, a little extra ballast," Ornina said with a sigh. "All right. I'll get a service contract written as soon as Shikari City opens for business."