The door chime buzzed. "Colonel Faraday?" an unfamiliar voice called.

Reflexively, Faraday turned McCollum's paper over and laid it over the mesh, even as he recognized how unnecessary the move was. The door was locked, after all. "Yes?" he called.

And with a snick, the door popped and slid open.

"What the hell?" Faraday thundered, scrambling to his feet and putting his back to the desk as two men strode into the room. "What do you think—?"

"Save it, Colonel," the lead man cut him off. As his partner hung back by the doorway, he crossed purposely toward Faraday.

And only then did it register in Faraday's brain that the two men weren't wearing the light blue of Station Security. They were instead dressed in the dark violet uniforms and berets of the Five Hundred's own private Sanctum Police.

So Liadof had not only brought her own tech team to Prime with her, but had also imported her own police force. Dimly, Faraday wondered what Stationmaster Carerra thought of that. If in fact the man even knew about it.

The cop reached Faraday's desk and swept a hand across the top, sending the various neat stacks of paper and disks flying. McCollum's sketch went with the rest of them—"Here it is, Arbiter," the man called, scooping up the mesh.

And from out in the corridor, Liadof stepped into the doorway.

"Fine," Faraday said through suddenly dry lips. This was trouble, all right. Big, expansive, worldfilling trouble. "I'll ask you, then, Arbiter Liadof. What in hell's name do you think you and your men are doing?"

"I'd watch your tone if I were you, Colonel," Liadof advised calmly, stepping inside and accepting the piece of mesh from the cop. "We're conducting a search; and you are in possession of stolen and highly classified material. You've got one minute to tell me where you got it."

Faraday took a deep breath. Resistance was useless; he knew that. But there was nothing to be gained by going all humble and conciliatory, either. Not with someone like Liadof.

And he was sure as hell's kittens not going to meekly hand McCollum over to them. "Or?" he demanded.

"Or I'll have you arrested for espionage," Liadof said. "As well as violation of the Universal Secrets Act, theft of government property, and conspiracies in all of the above. And your time is down to forty seconds."

Faraday shook his head. The mental gears, momentarily frozen by the suddenness of the invasion, were starting to churn again. "I don't think so, Arbiter," he said. "Nothing has been stolen. Even if it had been, I have every right to have that piece of mesh in my possession."

Liadof smiled coldly. "You have such authorization in writing, of course?"

"Of course," Faraday said. "It's called the Project Changeling Mission Statement."

"Really," Liadof said. "And who said this had anything to do with Project Changeling?"

Faraday inclined his head slightly. "You did."

The smile vanished. "What are you talking about?"

"This afternoon in the Contact Room," Faraday said, trying to keep his thoughts a step ahead of his mouth. "You said I was the one running the techs, but that you were Project Changeling now. Since you haven't shown me authorization for any different project—or even mentioned one, for that matter—the only reasonable assumption is that everything you've brought aboard the station comes under the Changeling aegis. And since the mission statement gives me full access to anything involved with the project...?"

He lifted his eyebrows, letting that last sentence dangle in the air.

And Liadof was definitely not smiling anymore. "You must be joking, Colonel," she said in a low, dark voice. "You really think that bubble-wrap argument will hold acid for even a minute?"

"I don't know," Faraday said. "But I'm willing to try it if you are."

For a long moment she stared at him, the lines in her face deepening into small desert ravines.

"Fine," she said at last. "I'll call that bluff. I'll call Earth tonight and have the reauthorization of Project Changeling here by morning. With myself as head, and with you completely off it."

"That is your prerogative, of course," Faraday said stiffly, wondering if she was bluffing in turn. Did she really have that kind of power with the Five Hundred? "But when you do, make it clear to them that I'm not going to be pressured or coerced into resigning. If they want me off Changeling, they'll have to fire me. That could be an interesting public relations challenge."

"The Five Hundred aren't nearly as interested in public relations as you seem to think," Liadof countered. "Until then, consider yourself under house arrest."

Faraday shook his head. "I think not, Arbiter. As I've already explained, I have full authorization to know everything there is to know about Changeling."

"Only for the next few hours," Liadof retorted.

"Perhaps," Faraday said. "That still won't change the current situation. You can't make an ex post facto charge of espionage."

"We'll see what I can or cannot make," Liadof said. "Until then, as I say, you're confined to quarters."

"But you have no grounds to do that," Faraday insisted. Surely she couldn't simply rewrite the law.

"I don't need any grounds," Liadof said coolly. "The law says the legal authorities can order you held for twenty-four hours without charge."

"I'll appeal to Stationmaster Carerra," Faraday threatened.

"Go ahead," Liadof said, gesturing to her cops. "I've got twenty-four hours to respond to him, too.

One way or another, Colonel, you're spending the next twenty-four hours in this room."

She stepped out into the corridor again. "And if I have my way," she added as the two uniformed men joined her, "it'll be the next five weeks." With that parting shot, she let the door slide shut.

Faraday gave them a count of sixty. Then, stepping to the door, he keyed the release. Even if Liadof had somehow managed to obtain a passcard, surely she hadn't also been able to talk Carerra out of a lockcard.

The door slid obediently open. So she hadn't gotten authorization to lock him in.

She hadn't had to. Standing stolidly across the corridor, glowering silently at him, was the larger of her two pet cops.

For a moment they eyed each other. Would the man really have the audacity, Faraday wondered, to use physical force to keep an uncharged man in his quarters? He was half inclined to try it and find out.

But it was already late in the evening, and he knew how much Stationmaster Carerra hated being dragged away from his scotch and soda after duty hours to deal with trouble. Better to let it go for now, get a good night's sleep, and get it straightened out in the morning.

Stepping back, he let the door close again. Out of simple habit, he locked it.

Besides, Liadof had already missed one trick. Retrieving the sketch McCollum had made, he sat down at his desk again and resumed his study of it.

He was still studying it ten days later when they finally came to get him.