That posed a question.

A possibly scary question.

She keyed a message back to her security, whoever was at the desk: “Find out how Jordan got that card. Do anything that furthers that investigation.”

Then she pushed back from the desk and got up.

It was probably safest not to talk to Justin until the immediate irritation of the disarrangement had gone away–he was bound to be adrenaline‑high, and that never improved communication, did it?

Yanni, Florian’s message had said, was already notified–about the move, at least. Yanni wouldn’t object to whatever she did regarding Justin Warrick.

But Yanni hadn’theard about this Dr. Patil being linked to a mysterious card Jordan knew they were going to question.

Thatwas a matter worth telling Yanni, and getting his reaction. And since she’d officially read the transcript and it jibed with what she’d gotten from Base One, she could at least take that caution out of her thinking and ask some questions.

If Jordan had found out that Yanni was talking to Patil, how had he known that? He didn’t get mail. He had no way to get a business card. Maybe Yanni himself had dropped information, making the move to rattle Jordan out of his cover. In that case she had better find out about it. And the worst thing she could do would be to start giving blind orders to put Florian and Catlin in the middle of it.

She put on her sweater, searched her closet for a pair of pants, herself–she managed her own wardrobe lately.

There was a leak somewhere. Maybe Yanni had arranged it, just to see where information flowed. She didn’t like to be caught by surprise.

And she didn’t want Justin involved in any investigation of his father. He wasn’t involved in Jordan’s business: she’d stake everything on that. And did.

But she still didn’t want to trip up anything Yanni was doing.

Meanwhile Justin was probably mad as hell about being moved, and upset about the business with the card, and probably under‑informed, over all. Justin without enough information was going to wonder about it, and wonder, and build his own hypotheses in private, and just stew for hours.

Maybe it was better to send a simple friendly message to Justin, just a deliberately naive welcome‑in. Justin wouldn’t believe she was innocent of ordering this disruption of his life.

Or he might: this time he had Jordan to blame. She might be able to turn the frustration in that direction.

She lapped her hair into three quarters of a braid and let it go–it would be hanging loose in ten minutes; but she put on makeup, at least, and took care about it.

Grant had to be considerably relieved, this morning, to know they weren’t going to be working up close with Jordan daily, where it was oh, so easy for Jordan to get at him. Justin had to be relieved, at least, that Grant wasn’t involved. Justin would certainly focus his irritation on Jordan, unless she stepped in the line of fire and created an issue and a target. So any message she sent into that ferment of vexation had to be cautious.

She sat down at the keyboard and tapped into the secure, local net. It wasn’t my order, she typed, which was the truth. But I think it’s a good idea. He can have the office all to himself. It was bugged anyway. –Ari.

Justin might think that was funny.

Or maybe he wouldn’t.

She sighed.

And typed a postscript: Justin, don’t be upset with me. Phone, if you have a problem with this.

Not that she was going to back down from what Florian had done. It was only moving the schedule up, regarding the move to her wing for both residency andoffice space. Justin didn’t know that, but it was the truth.

She went back to the console and keyed one more message. Yanni didn’t do it either.

Then she put on her boots and went to gather up Florian and Catlin.

Straight to Yanni’s office, over in Admin, before she did anything else, and she did that, with Florian–Catlin was busy with some research. By the time she got there it was 0840h, and Yanni’s foyer was already full of problems.

She didn’t go through the foyer. She took the side entry, the one Yanni himself used, and Yanni’s secretary, Chloe, looked up in startlement.

“Sera?”

“Tell Yanni take a restroom break. I need to talk to him.”

“Sera,” Chloe said respectfully, and pushed a button on the console. Chloe didn’t even talk to Yanni. Yanni came through the door fairly promptly.

And stopped cold.

“I need to talk,” Ari said. “Now.”

So Yanni immediately opened the door behind Chloe, and went in. Florian walked in, to stand behind her, while she sat down at one end of the conference table–it was a big one–and Yanni did, at the other end.

“A problem?” Yanni asked. “I had a report this morning–that there was some goings‑on involving Justin. That you moved him out of the Education Wing altogether, fired his staff, and gave Jordan an office. Is thisthe sudden problem?”

“Jordan is the problem. Jordan wants an office of his own.”

“And you apparently gave him one.”

“I did, ser,” Florian said, behind her. “It was done at my level.”

“I stand by it,” Ari said, “if it doesn’t actually hurt anything. It didn’t seem to me it does.”

Yanni remained as he was, just looking at her, and thinking–clearly thinking. “Jordan asked me for an office before I left. Evidently he thought he could get away with going around me.”

“He didn’t ask me. He said he was going to move in on Justin. So Florian moved Justin to my wing.”

“Except his staff, ser,” Florian said.

“Are you going to talk at me from two different levels?” Yanni asked, looking from her, seated, to Florian, standing.

“Sorry, ser,” Florian said.

“If you want Jordan out of that office,” Ari said, “you can tell him that. Meanwhile Florian says he had no place to put Justin’s staff, but they’re good people and Florian promised they’d be taken care of. Admin should hire them.”

Yanni was silent a moment. Then nodded. “All right. It can happen. I’ll make a note for Chloe.”

“Good. Justin will feel a lot better about it.”

“Oh, I’m sure he will. And Jordan’s got what he wanted…this week. Hell if that’ll content him for two days. Damn the man!”

“That’s not all he did,” Ari said. “He dropped a business card into Justin’s pocket. Justin didn’t like it. He gave it to Florian. I have it in my apartment. It was from a Dr. Sandur Patil.”

“Patil.”

He didn’t say anything but that. Not after a long wait.

So she said, “I brought Jordan here from Planys. It seemed a good idea at the time. I hoped he’d do better than this.”

“He’s a damn maniac.”

“I thought you were his friend.”

“With Jordan? Being Jordan’s friend requires fireproof gloves.”

“So did this Patil figure somehow with why you’re mad at him? I’ve read your transcript. I know who she is. Is Jordan somehow connected with this?”

“Not exactly.”

“So what doesit mean?”

“Let me drop another name,” Yanni said. “Thieu. Dr. Raymond Thieu.”

It didn’t ring any bell. She was genuinely puzzled, and shook her head. “I don’t know him.”

“Nanotech,” Yanni said. “Biologicals. Former head of the Planys remediation project.”

So. There. Biological nanisms, living nanomachines, anathema on Cyteen, except under strictest conditions. Patil’s expertise. Beta Station was where they worked on that, where you had to have all sorts of clearance to get in, and where nothing could escape. Nanobiology applied in the remediation areas out in the Planys death zones, where Cyteen microbes met Terran ones. But when they loosed something into the biosphere they did it with great, great caution–not the wholesale dumping the terraforming plan had involved; not the extent of what they were likely to do at Eversnow.

“So he’s no longer head of that program? Why?”