You mean like with Hanan and Ornina and Chandris? Ronyon asked. Is Hanan all right?

To his embarrassment, Forsythe realized suddenly that he hadn't even checked on Hanan Daviee since hearing that the pilot's condition had been stabilized. I think so, he signed. If you'd like, we can check on him before we leave.

Some of the new lines in Ronyon's face seemed to smooth out. Can we? he signed eagerly.

Forsythe smiled. Of course, he said. I'm sure Hanan will be happy to see you—

"High Senator?"

Forsythe looked up. Pirbazari was hurrying down the corridor toward him, his phone clutched in his hand.

Come on, Forsythe signed to Ronyon, picking up his own pace, his heart abruptly pounding in his ears. News from Lorelei at last?

They met in the middle. "I just got a call from EmDef," Pirbazari said, taking Forsythe's arm and pulling him off to the side of the corridor. "You're not going to believe this."

Forsythe braced himself. Here it came. "Lorelei's been taken?"

Pirbazari shook his head. "No. I mean, I don't know—there's still no word from there."

He waved his phone again. "It's Angelmass. The thing's moving."

Forsythe glanced at Ronyon. "What do you mean, moving? Moving where?"

"Into a lower orbit," Pirbazari said. "Dropping in toward the sun. Just a little so far, but the change is definitely there."

"What's causing it?"

"You got me," Pirbazari said. "In fact, you got all of us. No one at EmDef or the Institute has the faintest idea."

Forsythe frowned. "Zar, there aren't a lot of possibilities here," he said. "In order to change something's orbit, you have to apply force to it. Where's the force coming from?"

Pirbazari shrugged helplessly. "They've checked solar wind, magnetic anomalies, dust concentrations, even looked for stray dark masses that could be affecting it. So far, nothing."

Forsythe rubbed his chin, trying to visualize the configuration out there. An inward change in orbit, he remembered from college physics, meant an increase in orbital speed. And with Angelmass Central running in the same orbit ahead of it... "It's moving closer to the station," he murmured.

"Yes, but not very fast," Pirbazari said. "And Central is pretty heavily shielded. At the rate Angelmass is gaining, it'll be at least a couple of weeks before it even starts to pose a radiation hazard. And of course, if the orbit continues to sink, it may end up too low to bother the station by the time it passes anyway."

"I wouldn't want to bet on that," Forsythe said. "Especially since we don't know how or why it's sinking in the first place. Better have the station personnel prepare for evacuation, just in case. Do they have any ships there?"

"EmDef can have a transport to them in twenty minutes," Pirbazari said. "There's also a double ring of emergency escape pods set around the tube connecting the catapult and net sections of the station.

They've got steerable drive nozzles with enough fuel for half an hour of steady burn time, plus two weeks' worth of life-support."

"Shielding?"

"Huntership-grade sandwich metal," Pirbazari assured him. "Actually, the pods are the main shielding for the connection tube."

"All right," Forsythe said. "Speaking of hunterships, what's being done with the ones that are out there?"

"They've been alerted," Pirbazari said.

"That's all?"

"Well..." Pirbazari floundered a moment. "The orbit's only changed a little. They can surely compensate for that."

"Only if the change stays small," Forsythe said tartly. "And since we don't know what's causing it, it's going to be a little hard to make any guarantees. Have them recalled to Seraph."

Pirbazari seemed taken aback. "You really think that's necessary?" he asked.

"Unexplained radiation surges and now impossible orbital shifts?" Forsythe countered. "I think we've gone slightly past necessary."

Pirbazari's lip twitched. "All right," he said reluctantly. "I'll talk to EmDef."

"Talk loud and firm," Forsythe said. "And while you're at it, see if they have any mechanism for moving Central into a higher orbit. Whatever's affecting Angelmass may hit the station next, and I don't want its orbit dropping just in time for Angelmass to plow into it."

"I'll check," Pirbazari said. "I know they stock some supplies for asteroid miners who sometimes stop by. Maybe they've got a few strap-on boosters aboard."

Forsythe grimaced. It would take a lot more than a few boosters to get something the size of Angelmass Central moving. But it would be better than nothing. "Just have that evacuation transport standing by."

"It is," Pirbazari said. "EmDef tells me—"

He broke off as Ronyon suddenly grabbed Forsythe's shoulder. Forsythe looked up, to find the big man staring wide-eyed down the corridor behind Pirbazari. It's Ornina! Ronyon signed excitedly, bobbing his head that direction. And Chandris!

Forsythe shifted his eyes down again, expecting to see the women walking through the front door on their way to see Hanan.

What he saw instead was the two of them hovering in the background as two emergency room techs wheeled in a gurney with a blood-soaked figure on it.

"Looks like Kosta," Pirbazari said, peering down the corridor. "What the hell happened to him?"

"An accident, maybe," Forsythe said, an odd feeling stirring in his gut. "Let's find out."

They arrived just as the group reached the elevator. It was Kosta, all right, his face puckered stoically. "What happened?" Forsythe asked.

"Oh, High Senator," Ornina greeted him, her own expression tight but controlled. "There was a—well—"

"Someone I used to know came by the Gazelle" Chandris spoke up. "He had a knife."

"And showed Mr. Kosta how it worked, I take it," Forsythe said. Like both Kosta and Ornina, he saw, Chandris's expression and voice were under careful control.

But as Forsythe studied her, it seemed to him that her face had aged ten years since the last time he'd seen her.

"He was going to take me away," she said softly. Her eyes closed briefly; and when she opened them, they seemed to have aged another ten. "Kosta saved my life."

"It was actually the other way around," Kosta murmured.

"Save your strength, Jereko," Ornina admonished him gently. "Our first-aid bandages weren't able to stop the bleeding, High Senator, and the Gazelle's medpack was shut down with most of the rest of the ship's equipment."

The elevator doors opened. "You don't need to explain," Forsythe assured her. "Go get him fixed up."

"Yes, sir," Ornina said, as the techs got the gurney into the car. "Thank you, High Senator."

The two women got in with the others, and the doors closed. "Left arm and chest," Pirbazari commented. "Both of them slashes instead of penetration wounds. He should be all right, assuming he hasn't lost too much blood."

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Forsythe said, gazing unseeingly at the closed doors as all the question marks surrounding Kosta came flooding back. His mysterious funding source, his shadowy background, the anomalies in his manner and speech.

And all the questions now set against a Pax invasion of Lorelei.

And suddenly, it all came together. "He's a spy," he breathed. "A Pax spy."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Pirbazari's jaw drop. But even as he turned to face him, he could see his aide's surprise turn to understanding. "I'll be damned," he said quietly. "Are you sure?"

Forsythe hesitated. Yes, he was sure. But at the same time, he also had no actual proof.

Which was, after all, the question Pirbazari was really asking. "Not yet," he told the other. "But I will be."

He glanced up at Ronyon, who was silently following the conversation with a puzzled look on his face. "I'm going to take Ronyon back to the office," he said. "As soon as Kosta is patched up, you bring him to me."