That might be more important than the transmitter. After all, the probe would not go for months yet; the sleeper could be wakened anytime.

Absently, Titus praised the apprehensive technician’s work while his plans gelled. He’d mount an all-out, obvious effort to find another transmitter part, and, in the process, he’d sift the station’s population for Abbot’s humans.

Later, as Abbot finally took his official departure from the lab he warned Titus, cloaking his words, “Look to that girl of yours. You may have to silence her whether you want to or not. I don’t like the way she’s been watching us.”

Titus glanced at where Inea was sitting tailor fashion before an access hatch jigsawing three boards into a space barely big enough for two. “I’ll tend to it, don’t worry.”

“I do worry. Listen, Titus, Mark her. There are two of us here. If you want her, Mark her.” He sounded friendly.

It seemed, for an instant, like reasonable advice. Then he met Inea’s eyes. Never! She’s not a possession, not an object. He didn’t want a stringer, he wanted a wife, and that was something Abbot would never understand. “I’ll keep her quiet.”

The moment the door closed behind Abbot, Inea dropped her task and came to Titus, demanding, “What in the world– well, the moon-has been going on here all day?”

“What do you think?”

“Espionage. For some reason, you’re afraid of that man. I think he knows you’ve been spying.”

Titus chuckled. “Spying?” Diabolical woman!

“The Project’s a bone of contention among the Sovereignties.” She cocked her head. “What did you smuggle in right under the Brink’s guards’ noses? Plastic explosive?”

He threw his head back and laughed. Everyone looked at him. He waved them off. “She has a great sense of humor!

To Inea, he said, “Come into my office.” He led the way, blurring their exit in everyone else’s minds.

Even before she’d closed the door, Titus whirled and hissed indignantly, “Don’t you think I have better sense than to fool with explosives with all that vacuum out there?”

“You could plant it on the probe-set to blow it up out in space. According to the news, there are idiots who’d do it if they could, and rob all mankind of this chance. How do I know you aren’t one of those? People change.”

Hurt more than he could believe, he turned away, clenching his fists. “I’ll show you, if you’ll promise just to believe your eyes. Believe in me just that much, and I’ll show you what I smuggled in.” Abbot will kill me.

“I guess I owe you that much.”

He dug into his bottom desk drawer, found a packet, and tossed it to her, proud of his mastery of the gravity as it arced directly into her hands. She kneaded the packet and read the label. “I don’t understand.”

“False label. That’s the blood substitute I live on.”

She tallied her observations of him. “You’ve been starving yourself, waiting for this shipment!”

He shook his head. “Just short rations. I was worried, though. Another week-” He shrugged.

“Who sent it to you?”

“A friend.”

“Your kind have infiltrated the whole Project!”

“One shipping clerk does not a spy ring make.”

“Shipping clerk?”

“You going to start a witch hunt for my friend?”

She thought about that. Her answer, when it came, was low voiced but certain. “No.”

“Good. Then I’ll introduce you when we get back.”

She hefted the packet of cloned blood. “I hope your friend shares your dietary inclinations.”

“Yes.”

There was a knock on the door. Titus beckoned and Inea tossed the packet back to him. Stuffing it into the drawer, he called, “Come in!”

It was Shimon, carrying a small black box with cables on both ends. “Titus, I was checking the empty crate before trashing it and I found this in the bottom packing-oh, Inea, I’m sorry to interrupt-” He flushed, and Titus realized that the delay in responding to the knock implied he’d interrupted an intimate moment.

Inea said, “That’s all right. What have you found?”

“Wish I knew.” He slid it across the desk to Titus. “No manufacturer’s mark, no label. Looks like one of Abbot’s fabrications. But he labels his stuff.”

Not Abbot’s fabrication, Connie’s! A replacement for the communicator Abbot ruined. Somehow, Abbot missed it. And Abbot thought Connie was swift in getting the blood here! She must have sent this before Abbot wrecked mine.

Titus glanced at Inea. He didn’t want to manipulate Shimon in front of her. Without Influence, he said, “It’s probably not important. I’ll query Luna Station and take care of it.”

“Well, you’re so busy. And I’m curious. Why don’t I handle it for you?” He reached across the desk.

Titus snatched up the box. “Oh, it’s my job to hassle with stuff like this. You’ve more urgent things to do.”

“It’s no hassle. My job is winding down. We’ll finish installing and testing tomorrow and be ready for a run by the next day. But your job is just beginning-”

There was no choice. Backing his words with Influence, narrowed and aimed only at Shimon, Titus said, “Since we got all the parts we expected, this is probably just a piece of trash somebody threw into the crate by accident. You did right to bring it to me. I’ll take care of it. You’ve more important work.” Connie would be ashamed of me. I’ve made a complete hash of fielding both her shipments!

Very slowly, Shimon recited, “I-have more important work. Yes.” To himself, he added, “Ken. Yesh li avodah.”

“You’ve been doing excellent work,” said Titus with Influence. “You’ll get a citation, and I’ll put you up for a raise because you never give me any arguments, just results.”

Shimon withdrew his hand. “No arguments.”

Titus smiled. “Thank you, Shimon.”

“Yes, sir.” Turning, he nodded to Inea and left.

As the door closed, she breathed, “My God.”

“I didn’t want to do that to him, but-”

“You didn’t have his consent.”

“No.”

“What is that thing?”

He told her a half-truth. “Part of my communications link. So I can signal when I need more. blood. I didn’t know it Was in that crate. Shimon shouldn’t have found it.” She stared at him as if he were a new sort of bug. “I didn’t harm him. He feels very proud of himself. And I will put him in for a citation and a raise. He’s earned it.” As she considered that, he groped for a diversion. “If I let you taste my concoction, will that prove it all to you?”

Her eyes shifted to the closed door, then back to Titus. “After what you did to that stubborn Israeli, yeah, I think so. If that stuff is really blood-”

“It’s pretty close.” He thought of the packets hidden about the office. Abbot might expect him to leave most of it here because there was too much to carry in one trip. He might plan to return and abscond with the rest, putting the lie to Titus’s theories. He weighed the matter, and decided he’d rather have the blood than proof of Abbot’s intentions. Besides, he didn’t want to risk Maintenance finding it.

He offered, “Help me carry these home, and I’ll show you how it makes up into a very good imitation of real blood.”

He found four large net bags and lined them with spare clothing, then stuffed them with packets, putting the black box, which was useless until the computer was up, in one bag. They’d seem to be carrying laundry, which would reinforce Shimon’s impression that they were lovers. The rumor would be all over the station within three days. And coming right after he’d demonstrated to Abbot his control of Inea, it would reinforce the impression he wanted Abbot to have, that he was only using Inea, casually establishing his “cover” as a human, just as Abbot had taught him.

Knowing Titus the way he did, Abbot would never believe he’d expose a human he cared for by establishing any public connection between them. And ordinarily, Titus wouldn’t. But e had to play out the charade he’d started. Later, he could appear to “drop” Inea, thus blending in with the social tides of the humans around them. He just had to be sure not to give Abbot any more reason to suspect.