At that moment, Inea swung through the door carrying a toolbox and wearing a lab coat and white gloves. She had her hair bound back in a clean-room cap. “I heard the shipment was here and I came to. What’s the matter?”

Abbot reached out with his Influence, focusing real power to subdue her curiosity as he insisted, “Not a thing. We have more imp-”

Without thinking, Titus reacted, the whole force of his raised Influence behind the command. “Abbot, no!”

To Titus’s surprise, his father recoiled. “Titus, what in the-” Cloaking his words, he swore. “Child, you don’t know your own strength! What do you think you’re doing?”

Titus’s greatest efforts had never before produced such an effect in Abbot. “I-I.”

Perplexed, Abbot inspected Inea, adding, “You’re that involved and you haven’t Marked her?”

Around them, everyone was staring disinterestedly into the packing case. Titus pulled himself together. “She’s not mine,” he answered nonchalantly, cloaking as well. He raised his voice and ordered in clear, “Inea, check the observatory first and I’ll be right with you. Okay?”

She shrugged and shoved her toolbox into a corner. “Sure, she answered, but he saw her glance over her shoulder at Abbot as she went toward the glass enclosure.

“See?” Titus pointed out. “As you taught me, when you don’t need Influence, don’t use it.”

Abbot shook his head, and Titus was almost sure he’d covered his slip. Inea now seemed to be no one special, just useful.

“Titus, do you want my help with the others or not?”

“I’d consider it a favor.” Abbot didn’t seem to think he needed help. Titus wondered if he’d gained power from the Catholic talisman, for he had felt wonderful ever since.

Abbot raised his voice with Influence. “If we’re going to be up and running this month, we’d better get to work.”

Titus added his Influence, singling out individuals and assigning jobs, diverting attention from the crate.

Suzy Langton hefted the top of the crate. “I’ll just seal up this stray case and take it back.”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary,” Titus interrupted hastily, and Abbot joined with, “Absolutely not necessary.”

She stopped, the awkward top held across her chest. “Well no, it’s not necessary. But I ought to do it anyway.”

Abbot glanced at Titus, who was keenly aware that Inea might be watching, then took the top from Langton. “I know who it belongs to. I’ll take care of it. You wouldn’t waste government time going out of your way, would you?”

The Brink’s guards shook their heads like kindergarteners agreeing with their teacher. Abbot had them totally under control. But he was working gingerly. They dared not create an illusion that was blatantly incongruous, for with time, these people would remember bits and snatches, worry at them, and compare notes. More than once in their long history on Earth, luren had been caught by just such human tenacity.

Titus pointed out, “There’s no reason for you folks to wait here. Get on back to your more important work.”

Perplexed, Langton hesitantly agreed. Abbot made a show of resealing the crate, grinning confidently at her over his shoulder. At last she led her crew out, seeming satisfied.

“Thanks,” said Titus, as he removed the lid again, still unsure why Abbot had helped except that it would be awkward for all luren if a human analyzed the “B&J Additives.”

“Don’t mention it.” Abbot eyed the observatory where Inea forked. “Though since you have her-and don’t tell me you don’t!-I can’t see why you want this garbage.”

“I don’t take blood from humans anymore.”

“Then let me have her.”

“Let you?”

“Well, I took Mirelle. I shouldn’t cut in on you every time. Still, I helped you. Since you’re not using her-”

“That’s a bit of a steep price for such trivial, if timely, assistance. Here, take a couple of packets instead.” He held his breath, hoping Abbot would refuse as usual. He needed all of it himself, and Abbot’s only reason for accepting would be to cripple Titus’s efforts to oppose him.

“Oh, Titus, where did I go wrong with you? You were so promising! But you’re young, maybe it’s just a phase.” He shrugged. “Keep your packets. When you’re tired of them, let me know. I’ve a couple of choice items I’d be willing to share. In a small community, it minimizes the risks.”

“No thank you, Father. I can handle my own if I must.”

Abbot scrutinized him again. “Yes, surprisingly enough, I think you can now. Here, let me help you get these packets into your office. You know, they must have been shipped within hours of our switching your bag in Quito? Connie must have known the minute we did it. She’s pretty sharp, that one. Not that you’re turning out to be so dull, either.”

What is he up to? thought Titus as he gathered an armload. The sooner the packets disappeared, the less likely anyone would be to remember them. When they’d finished stuffing the packets into drawers in Titus’s office, he watched Abbot reseal the crate and haul it out the door.

Then he spent the rest of the shift pondering Abbot’s behavior. He was acting as if Titus were no longer a threat to his mission. Hoping that wasn’t so, Titus resolved to destroy another transmitter component as soon as possible.

It wouldn’t be easy. Titus had been tracking his father all over the station when he could. Sometimes Abbot noticed him, sometimes he didn’t-or pretended not to. For all his efforts, Titus still didn’t know where Abbot had hidden the six pieces of his transmitter, or the rebuilt piece. Surely he’s already rebuilt it.

By now, Abbot, under cover of repairing Titus’s system, could have assembled the transmitter. He might even have planted it within the shell of the probe. That would account his confidence, for Titus didn’t have clearance to go out to the probe hangar, and so far he hadn’t gone out by using Influence.

However, placing the transmitter so long before launch would increase the chance of a human finding it, so Titus doubted he’d done it yet. His confidence was probably just a ploy to keep Titus off balance, to keep him asking irrelevant questions and wasting energy seeking answers, diverting his attention. But from what? The sleeping luren? The cloning project? The language project? What exactly had Abbot recovered from Kylyd’s recorders?

Why did Abbot want the computer fixed so fast? To pirate time on it for himself? Titus made a mental note to set some traps in his system. If he were clever, Titus might be able to bleed off Abbot’s data while Abbot thought he was getting away with pirating. But that was a longshot. Nobody beat Abbot in a computer duel. Still, Titus would try. He’d beaten his father in other ways he’d never expected to.

But the nagging question was why did Abbot want Titus supplied with blood? To keep him from prospecting among the humans?

Titus straightened up from examining a technician’s work. Oblivious to the technician’s apprehensive expression, he watched Abbot checking connections. Even way across the lab, the power of him throbbed through Titus. Abbot wasn’t starving. And suddenly, it hit him. Abbot didn’t want him to find out who was on his string.

A shock washed through Titus as his mind leaped into high gear, leaving logic behind. Abbot knew he had broken into Mirelle’s file. Abbot assumed Titus wanted to know what Abbot had learned from her. His feigned confidence was to focus Titus’s attention away from Mirelle and Abbot’s other stringers, to make him wonder why Abbot felt he’d already beaten Titus.

It made sense, but didn’t quite fit Abbot’s devious nature.

He knows me! He’s always manipulated me. All at once, he recalled Abbot staring at Inea then scrutinizing Titus. It came to him with crystal clarity. It`s his unMarked that count! He had to find them and check their files.