Cella blinked, startled. “Yes, of course. It’ll be on all the Game nets by three this morning if not before. Why?”

“I just want to see how they behave,” Damian said vaguely. I want to see if Roscha thinks she’s competing with Ransome, and I want to see how good she is at it. Because if she has any grudge against him, I can make good use of it. “Dump it to my private system as soon as you can get a copy, please.”

“I’ll do that,” Cella said.

Damian Chrestil smiled crookedly. “Then let’s rejoin the party.”

–––

Interlude

Game/varRebel.2.04/

subPsi. 1.22/ver22.1/ses4.24

They crouched in the uncertain shelter of the cargo bay, hearing the clatter of boots recede along the walkways to either side. The overhanging shelves, piled high with crates, gave some cover, but they all knew that if the baron’s guards came back out onto the center catwalk it would take a miracle to keep from being seen. Galan Africa/ALEMO TOMSEY frowned over the power pack of their only heavy laser, working methodically to mate a salvaged blaster cell into the nonstandard housing. Jack Blue/KICHI DESJOURDY sprawled gasping against the nearest stack of crates, hand against his chest as though it pained him. Mijja Lyall/LACHACALLE crouched at his side, one hand on his wrist, as though somehow knowing his pulse rate could help. Blue’s great bulk had displaced the lower crates slightly, and Gallio Hazard/HALLY VENTURA edged out of its line of fall, his pistol drawn and ready. He knelt cautiously in the shelter of a second stack of crates, laid a fresh clip on the floor beside him, and settled to wait. Lord Faro/PETER SAVIAN and Ibelin Belfortune/KAZIO BELEDIN crouched as always a little apart from the rest, Faro a little ahead of the wild‑eyed Belfortune, as though he could protect him.

“We’re still waiting for this contact,” Desir of Harmsway/AMBIDEXTER said. “Well, Avellar? What happened this time?”

“How can I know?” Avellar/JAFIERA ROSCHA answered. “Something’s gone wrong, obviously.” She smiled suddenly. “I say we press on, Desir, unless you want to go back.”

Harmsway looked away, made a face of disgust. Avellar’s grin faded, and she went to kneel on the warped flooring beside Jack Blue. “How is it?”

“Not so good.” Blue’s voice was thin and wheezing, and, behind his back, Lyall shook her head. She reached into her much‑depleted kit, came out with a slim injector, but hesitated, and did not lay it against the telekinetic’s arm.

“If you weren’t so damn fat, you wouldn’t be in this bad shape,” Harmsway snapped. “Christ, what a waste.”

Blue frowned, his eyes losing their focus for a moment. A cracked piece of the floor tiling snapped loose and flung itself at Harmsway’s face. He ducked away from it, but too late, and the tile’s sharp edge drew a thin line of blood along one cheekbone. Avellar snatched the tile out of the air before it could strike anything else.

“A waste to bring me,” Blue said, mimicking Harmsway’s precise voice. “You didn’t bring me, little man–”

“Shut up,” Avellar said, and was obeyed. “Save your strength,” she added, and looked at Harmsway. “The ship’s right there, Desir, just waiting for us. Go right ahead.”

Harmsway looked longingly at the cargo door, only forty meters away across the width of the warehouse. It was even open, the ship’s hatch gleaming in the loading lights, and he could feel that the last barrier was sealed only with a palm lock, the kind of thing he could open in his sleep… if he could reach it. His lips thinned, and he looked away.

“Avellar.” Lyall’s voice was suddenly sharp with fear, and Avellar swung to face her.

“I think–” Lyall began, then shook her head. “No, I’m sure. They’ve brought in one of the hunters.”

Harmsway swore, and Hazard looked back over his shoulder at them all.

Africa did not look up from his work, his hands still busy with the laser. “Hunter?”

“Another telepath,” Blue said. “The kind that specializes in hunting down his own kind.”

“How close?” Harmsway demanded, and Lyall shook her head again.

“I can’t tell. He‑she‑it’s shielded.”

“All right,” Avellar said. “No one use anything, telekinesis, telepathy, electrokinesis, anything at all, unless there’s no other choice.” There were murmurs of agreement from the others, and she looked at Africa. “Galan?”

The technician shrugged, his hands never slowing on the balky connection. “I don’t know. Even if I get it hooked up, I can’t make any guarantees.”

Avellar grimaced, and for the first time looked at Belfortune. “Bel.”

Faro shifted his position slightly, putting himself between Avellar and Belfortune. “Let him be.”

“Bel,” Avellar said again.

“I can’t do it,” Belfortune said flatly, without lifting his eyes from the floor.

“Oh, that’s a lie,” Harmsway said, soft and deadly, “a lie and you know it, Belfortune. That’s what bought the Baron’s favor, bought you a lover and almost anything you wanted, just as long as you learned to use your power. Tell me, is it true the Baron liked to watch while you killed them?”

“Jesus, Desir,” Hazard said, and was ignored.

Belfortune looked up slowly, met Harmsway’s glare for the first time unflinching. “Yes. It’s true.”

“Then you can stop the hunter,” Avellar said.

“It won’t do any good,” Belfortune said. “Where else could we be, but in one of the cargo bays? All it’ll do is buy you time.”

“That’ll be enough,” Avellar said.

“But if it isn’t–” Lyall began, and closed her mouth over what she would have said.

Avellar answered her anyway. “If it’s not enough, then we fight.”

“Brilliant,” Harmsway jeered. “How clever of you, Royal.”

“Shut up, Desir,” Hazard said. “Avellar. Belfortune’s right, much as I hate to admit it.”

Avellar nodded. “We need a diversion, I agree. But to make it work, we have to get rid of the hunter.” She looked back at Belfortune. “Well? Will you do it?”

Belfortune closed his eyes for a moment, pain etched deep in his face, then nodded. “Oh, yes. What’s one more?” Lord Faro reached out to touch his shoulder.

“Then we’ll need to distract the rest of the searchers,” Avellar said.

“No, really?” Harmsway murmured.

“Yes, and you’re just the man to do it,” Avellar answered. She smiled briefly, daring him. “This bay is right next to the main computer nexus, Desir. Think what you can do with that.”

Harmsway said, “But why should I, Royal? Give me one reason, after everything you tried to do.”

There was a little silence, and then Avellar looked at him, her face absolutely without emotion. “I told you then. I’m telling you now. I need you, need your talent, to make up for what I lost when my sibs–my twins, the rest of the clone, the rest of me–were killed. I can’t take the throne without you.”

“To hell with you,” Harmsway said, and there was an odd, gloating note in his voice.

“I need you,” Avellar said again. “I came here for you, didn’t I? I did what you couldn’t do, I broke you out of the Baron’s prison because I need you. Isn’t that enough?”

“Maybe if you went down on your knees,” Harmsway said, “but not before.”

“For God’s sake,” Hazard said. He pushed himself to his feet, grabbed Harmsway roughly by the shoulder, and swung him to face the others. “If you don’t do it, Desir, we’re going to die.”

Harmsway lifted an eyebrow at him. “I’m surprised at you–”

“I want out of here,” Hazard said. “We can sort out the rest of it once we’re free, but right now, getting off planet is a hell of a lot more important than Avellar or the goddamn throne.”

“I won’t work with her again,” Harmsway said.

“So what?” That was Jack Blue, hoisting himself to his feet. “It won’t be as good, Avellar, but maybe I can do something if this shit won’t.”

Avellar nodded her thanks, still watching Harmsway, who smiled bitterly.