But in her eyes was a glint that sent a chill down Faraday's back. After years of quiet hope, heated argument, and rampant speculation, they finally had at least folklore-level proof that the Qanskan stardrive really did exist.

And Liadof wanted it. Wanted it very, very badly. "How long until he's back at the equator?" she asked.

"Hard to say," Milligan said. "It took him a couple of months to get that far north, but he wasn't in any hurry then. If he keeps up this pace, he could do it in a month. Possibly less."

"Or possibly more," McCollum put in. "The variety and concentration of food in the equatorial regions seems to be lower than at the latitudes where he is now. There also seem to be more Vuuka near the equator, or at least more Vuukan attacks. The extra grazing and dodging around is bound to cost him some time."

"Well, it doesn't really matter," Liadof said. "We know now that they definitely have a stardrive. It's just a matter of finding it."

"Which is not exactly a trivial problem," Faraday pointed out. "May I ask how you intend to accomplish that?"

"At the moment, that's still classified," Liadof said absently, studying the displays. "Ms. McCollum, do you know where Raimey's old herd is?"

"Yes," McCollum said. "They've drifted a little ahead of our position, but we still have a good track on them. There's obviously been some shuffling in the personnel, of course."

"And that female—Drusni—is she still with them?"

"Yes, Arbiter," McCollum confirmed. "And pregnant with her third child, too."

"Are you planning to wait until Raimey talks to Drusni before you contact him?" Faraday asked.

Liadof's answer was a surprise. "I'm not interested in contacting Raimey at all. If I wanted to talk to him, I could do it now."

Faraday frowned. "Then why is his destination important?"

"That herd is the one that knew Raimey the best," Liadof said, toying thoughtfully with the tooled ruby pendant she always wore. Faraday glanced at her fingers, feeling the same faint queasiness he always did in the pendant's presence. The bright red stone looked far too much like a trickling drop of blood for his comfort. Knowing Liadof, of course, it would undoubtedly be someone else's blood.

"Since they were presumably hand-picked by the Qanskan chiefs, that implies the herd's leaders know a fair amount about humanity," Liadof went on. "That should make our upcoming conversation easier."

"Ah—so we're going to talk to the herd," Faraday said, nodding as if he actually understood where Liadof was going with this. "What are we going to talk to them about?"

Liadof glanced back at him. "Did anyone ever mention that you ask a lot of questions, Colonel?"

Did anyone ever mention that I'm still officially in charge of this project? the retort shot through Faraday's mind. "I'm concerned about Raimey's future," he said instead. "I'd like to know how he fits into your plans."

Liadof turned back to the displays. "What makes you think he fits in anywhere at all?"

"He's part of Project Changeling," Faraday reminded her. "Whatever else we do here, his well-being has to be taken into account."

"Especially since he'll be reaching the herd about the time your probe is ready to go," Beach added.

Liadof's head snapped toward him like a striking rattlesnake. "What do you know about the probe?" she demanded.

Beach's large form seemed to melt into his chair in the sudden heat of that gaze, his round face visibly paling, "I—well, your people have taken over a probe bay," he floundered. "I just assumed you had a probe you were getting ready."

"How did you know I'd taken over a bay?" Liadof persisted. "Who told you?"

"No one told him," Faraday jumped to his rescue. "No one had to. Station space allocations are a matter of public record."

Liadof spun back, and for a stretched-out pair of seconds she just glared at him. "Colonel, let's get something straight," she said, her voice quiet and controlled but with a quiver of compressed anger beneath it. "Your people run the equipment. You run your people. But I am Project Changeling now.

Your people will do their jobs, and will keep their noses to themselves. Or they will get them broken."

She gave a little huff. "And that goes for you, too. Behave yourself, and you get to keep your name on this project. Otherwise, you'll find yourself locked away, waiting for the next transport back to Earth. Do I make myself clear?"

"Very clear, Arbiter," Faraday said stiffly, feeling his face reddening. Every rule of civilized behavior said you didn't speak to a person this way in front of his subordinates.

But then, rules like that probably didn't apply to the Five Hundred And of course, she probably didn't consider them to be his subordinates, anyway.

"Good." Deliberately, she turned her back and resumed her study of the displays.

Faraday took a deep breath. Maybe she was used to instant cowering everywhere else she went. But not here. Not here. "You haven't answered my question, Arbiter," he said.

Liadof turned back, her eyes narrowed as they probed his face. Faraday forced himself to hold her gaze; and after another pair of seconds her lips twitched in a cold smile. "You don't flinch easily, do you, Colonel Faraday?" she asked, her tone almost conversational. The earlier anger was gone, or least buried away out of sight. "I can see how you wound up becoming a hero."

"Thank you," Faraday said, as if the compliment had been genuine. "What about Raimey?"

The smile vanished, the lines around her mouth settling into their more normal pattern. "Mr. Raimey is what he always was to this project," she said quietly. "A means to an end."

"Are you saying this new probe of yours renders him expendable?"

She turned back to the displays. "Let me put it this way," she said. "You should hope that Ms.

McCollum is right, that he takes longer than expected to get back to his herd. He may not find it pleasant to be in the vicinity when the probe arrives there."

"That sounds rather disturbing," Faraday said cautiously. "We have agreements with these people—"

"We have nothing," Liadof cut him off. "No treaties, either signed or recorded. The only even marginally official agreement we've ever had was getting their permission for Raimey to enter their world as he did. That one has already been satisfied."

"So what you're saying is that the Qanska are fair game now?"

The lines around Liadof's mouth became even deeper. "We need that stardrive, Colonel," she said softly. "And we're going to have it. The Qanska can cooperate, or not."

She threw him a speculative look, then turned away again. "So can you."

Faraday looked over at the techs. All four were minding their boards now, studiously ignoring the conversation.

Carefully guarding their own careers, and their own futures.

And with a sinking feeling, Faraday realized that Sprenkle's warning had been right on the mark.

Push had come to crunch; and Faraday's neck was stuck out here all alone.

So be it, he told himself firmly. If he was the only one who dared to stand up to Liadof and the Five Hundred, then that was how it would be. He owed Raimey that much.

And if it cost him his career, that was all right, too. After all, there wasn't that much left of it, anyway.