“She crawled down to a floor vent where there was a little more air. She was injured doing it, though.”

“I see. I’m sorry.”

Abbot frowned. “No, you don’t see. You were dormant more than the three minutes the humans thought you’d been dead. After I checked on Sisi, I went into the wreckage of the centrifuge computers and found you’d suffocated at least eighteen minutes before they got that thing opened!”

Shit. No wonder I was so hungry.

“When I found that out,” continued Abbot, “I looked for you, but couldn’t find you. Then I ran across your unMarked, and discovered what you’d done to her.”

Titus bristled. “When I found out what you’d done to her, I wanted to kill you! Just be glad I didn’t go even a bit feral, or I’d”ve ripped you apart when I got in here.“

Abbot recoiled, and Titus wondered if he’d let a little too much ferocity show for a sane luren.

“Listen,” said Titus. “The Law says you could have done worse and been within your rights. Blood Law means as much to me as to you, so you’ll never catch me in a violation.” Inea’s bare word is as good as any planted compulsion.

“Let’s hope I don’t,” Abbot intoned, gazing at Titus with wide-open eyes. “You know what my duty would be then.”

Titus’s confidence evaporated. Maybe he knows she was unsilenced! Titus had checked, but he was no match for Abbot.

He could have missed a clue. Then, sternly, he told himself to stop building his father up into a demigod. That tendency stemmed from the intrinsic physiology of being the man’s son. He flogged his paralyzed brain back into combat. “I assume you’ve got the computer record to prove how long I was dormant in case you have to prove I’d gone feral.”

“Of course, but have I ever used blackmail?”

“There’s always a first time.”

“You wrong me deeply.”

“No. I know how much you want to go home.”

“And I know how much you fear that my signal may get through. If you’ve gone the slightest bit feral, that fear could drive you to any unpredictable and dishonorable act.”

Oh, it was a neat trap. Titus would have to toe the line as never before. Even his handling of Sisi Mintraub could be questioned. Best defense is a strong offense.

“I’ll make a deal with you,” offered Titus. “Promise to treat Inea as my Marked, whether or not she is Marked, and I’ll tell you what the ninja’s next move is going to be.”

Abbot hardly blinked. “You think I don’t already know?”

Oh, he’s good! “You don’t.” Their eyes locked.

Abbot thought it over. “Why not just Mark the woman and have done with it?”

“It has to do with the nature of humans. Utterly beyond your comprehension.” Despite what she’d said, Titus was certain Inea was loathe to wear a brand. Abbot has no idea what it feels like to have a willing human ally. “You wouldn’t understand my motive if I could explain it.”

“No doubt.”

“You won’t get a hint out of me unless you promise.”

“Why would you give away an advantage? If knowledge of the ninja’s next move is any sort of advantage.”

“Not give. Sell. You’ll get value for your sacrifice.”

“If what I get is of as little value as what I give, I doubt it would be worth it. It shouldn’t take me much effort to discover the ninja’s plans.”

“But do you have the time? I’ll share what I know now if you promise to treat Inea as my Marked.”

“For how long?”

“Forever.”

“Suppose you Mark her and then release her?”

“Then, too.”

“That’s not reasonable!” objected Abbot.

“She’s only one human. There are so many others.”

He shrugged. “Never have understood Residents! So. Inea’s off limits to me forever. Now what of the ninja?”

Titus recited his evidence. They were alone now except for the guards sealed on the other side of the isolation lock.

“Ebony statue you call her? Interesting. Ebony is her stage name. And Gold is in one of her classes? That’s not a lot of information to get for selling a potential stringer.”

“Think it through,” urged Titus. “I’m surprised Ebony hasn’t tried for the sleeper yet. She knew about the clone project from Gold hours ago. If she hasn’t turned up-”

“When did you say you saw her with Gold?”

Titus told him.

Abbot went paler than normal. “A bomb.”

In two bounds, he was beside the cryogenic equipment, yanking access hatches off the pedestal that held the sleeper’s bubble. “Carol pulled the guards off and shut down this corridor to keep reporters from identifying this lab. But it was an hour later that I talked her into this plan for obscuring the cloning project. An hour unguarded!”

Abbot stuck his head inside the pedestal, examining the underside of the platform supporting the sleeper. His voice boomed, “Get the other side. Look for anything suspicious.”

Titus ripped off panels. “What am I looking for?”

“A small, crude housing, probably not wired into the mechanisms. She had no time for finesse.”

One of the guards called, “Is anything wrong?”

Abbot replied, “Could be a bomb or incendiary! Get-”

“Call that in,” ordered one guard to the other. “I’ll help them.”

Abbot shouted, “No, don’t come in! Get out of here, both of you! We can handle it.” Despite the Influence Abbot threw into the command, they hesitated, then left.

As soon as the humans were gone, Abbot discarded his face mask, wriggling deep into one compartment.

Titus scanned the last of the compartments on his side. Nothing! Must have missed it!

Abbot ripped off the last panel, pushing himself inside. “I’ve got it!”

Titus scrambled around to where Abbot’s feet jutted out onto the floor. Squatting on his heels, he surveyed the machinery that whirred and shushushed under the sleeper’s platform. His eyes scanned the open pedestal restlessly as he tried not to think what would happen if the bomb went off.

What’s that? Through the open panel beside Abbot, deep in the shadows, Titus saw a glint of pewter, a lozenge shape that just didn’t fit. He had studied so many of Abbot’s fabrications implanted into his computer that he was sure this was another one. Or a second bomb?

But no, Abbot had checked that panel just after he got rid of his bubble face mask. Titus edged closer. The foreign shape was visible only from one very narrow angle. It was deep inside. To get at it, a technician would have to take his bubble mask off.

It’s a transmitter component. Got to be.

Titus pulled his mask off and thrust himself into the pedestal. The pewter shape was held only by two wing nuts, not wired into anything. It had two expensive logic circuit connectors. It’s Abbot’s. Fumbling, heart pounding, Titus freed the thing. It was no bigger than the palm of his hand, and hardly as thick as his wrist.

He backed out, stuffed his find into a pocket of the disposable suit, and got his mask on before Abbot called, “This was set to blow half an hour ago! Get me a number eight hex key wrench-on the bench where I was working.”

Titus dashed across the room. Abbot’s tools were always laid out a certain way. He found the wrench and passed it in to Abbot, sweating despite the chill. What would taking the transmitter piece matter if the bomb went off?

Abbot backed carefully out of the hole. He held a flat brown box which he set on a corner of the pedestal. A numeric display on top had frozen. Abbot pried the top off. Inside, it was crude, but Titus knew it was potent from the way Abbot worked over the sloppily soldered connections. He looked up at Titus and grinned. “I’m glad I dined while you were showing off your computer! At least my hands are steady.”

Titus didn’t dare breathe, and he couldn’t watch. He studied a wrinkle in the airlock wall and saw the emergency evacuation signs were lit, though the siren hadn’t gone off. Without warning, the door burst open. Sirens were hooting out there in the corridor. The insistent flashing of the corridor evacuation lights outlined a slim, black form that leaped into the room, an automatic dartgun in one hand, and a long knife in the other. Ebony slashed through the plastic wall, leveled the dartgun and cut loose at the sleeper’s bubble.