“But I—but Rector, that’s not—”
“Ten minutes. That’s not a suggestion, Captain; that’s an order. Do I have to send a team to bring you in?”
“N-no, Rector. I’ll—”
“Hurry,” Grace finished for him. “Nine minutes forty seconds.”
He looked two shades paler, and with a muttered “Sorry” turned away; Ky could hear the quick sound of his boots hurrying to the stairs. His team emerged from the various rooms they were searching, and within two minutes they were all outside, jogging down the front walk to their vans.
Stella raised her brows. “It never ceases to amaze me how the sound of Aunt Grace in a snit gets people moving.”
“Including you!” came from the speaker.
Stella jumped. “You’re still online!”
“Ky didn’t close the connection. How secure is this line?”
“Secure as we can make it,” Stella said.
“Who is that man looking for?”
“The people who were with me in Miksland,” Ky said. “Spaceforce personnel. Did you know they’d been drugged, shaved bare, and thrown in prison?”
“What?” Grace’s tone mixed surprise and anger; Ky’s own anger retreated a little.
“Yes. Including implant surgery on a Miznarii woman without her consent, while she was unconscious—which is a crime—and tampering with others’ implants, and not allowing them contact with their families—or any outside contact at all.”
“I don’t—”
“You didn’t know? You didn’t think to find out what happened to personnel you, as Rector, were responsible for?”
“I’m leaving for the office,” Stella said. “You two can waste time fighting if you want to, but—”
“Go!” Ky and Grace spoke at the same moment. Stella retreated. Ky wished she hadn’t; she had intended to apologize this morning, but things happened too fast.
“Ky, I did not know,” Grace said. “I was told they were evacuated from Miksland to Pingats, given a medical evaluation there that suggested they might need quarantine for fourteen days because of something in the tunnels. Then they were to be sent home for thirty days’ home leave with their families. That’s where I thought they were.”
“That didn’t happen,” Ky said.
“To all of them? Are you sure? And how do you know?”
“A reliable source,” Ky said. She’d expected Grace to realize she must have the fugitives there, but she wasn’t going to say so, no matter how secure the line was supposed to be. “I suggest you start calling before that man arrives at your door. Contact the families if you don’t believe me. Oh, and they overheard someone say I was in the hospital and expected to die of something caught down there.”
“But you were checked out—you’re fine.”
“Yes. Checked out by Helen’s own physician, not Spaceforce.”
“I’ll call you within two hours,” Grace said, and cut off the connection.
Ky sat back. The security panel on the desk informed her that the house was locked down, all entrances secure, no indication of attempts to breach, and no new sensors in place. Her concern that the team might have placed bugs faded, but she pulled out the portable scanner and checked that room carefully. Nothing.
When she opened the secure closet, she found the three women huddled in one corner.
“We didn’t know who would come—”
“They’ve left. The house is fully secure again. They didn’t discover anything and the captain should be just about arriving at the Rector’s office to have a very uncomfortable hour or so with my aunt Grace. She didn’t know anything about your situation.”
“So we can—come out?”
“Yes. Might be best to stay upstairs in case someone else shows up.”
“Can we call our families?” Kamat asked.
“No,” Ky said. “Whoever’s responsible is undoubtedly watching your families, expecting you to make contact. It might risk them, and all you survivors, to call them now. But we do need their names and addresses, to work out some way of letting them know without alerting the other side. The Rector’s going to call them, probably today, but that can be presented as just ordinary courtesy. I think she should’ve done that before.” Before more questions could be asked, Ky went on. “Do you have any objection to a short-term DNA adjustment? It’ll confuse scans, if you run across a roadblock or something.”
Kamat raised her hand. “I know I’m already contaminated with an implant, but I really don’t want any change in DNA. It’s against my religion.”
Ky nodded. “Of course. And we’ll find a way to get that implant out, too.”
“But the—the connectors—would still be in my brain—”
“You said you weren’t getting anything from it; it may be they just put in something to make you think it was an implant. And even if it is, the connector interface won’t operate without the implant itself.”
Kamat blinked back tears. “I’m afraid my family will think I’m damaged. They’ll see the scar; they’ll ask why I cooperated.”
“They won’t believe you were drugged unconscious?”
“My mother, maybe. My father—he’s very strict; he says people are so tempted by the ease of implants that they pretend they were drugged.”
That was a complication Ky hadn’t anticipated. “Well, I think the best thing is to get it removed as soon as possible, and hope for the best. Surely it will be better if it’s out than in.”
“That’s true,” Kamat said, but she didn’t look much happier.
“For now, clothes for you—and me.” Ky called the store Stella had suggested and asked for the concierge shopping department. Since she had the sizes in hand, thanks to Stella’s questions at breakfast, it didn’t take long to order several outfits for all of them. She asked for delivery, and—offered a choice of times—selected late morning.
She looked up to find Rafe watching her. “You didn’t order me any new clothes,” he said. “You like this shirt on me that much?”
“I like that shirt off you,” Ky said, grinning. “But you can call Grace’s house and ask Teague to bring you something more suited to the weather. And my box, as well.”
“I’ll do that,” Rafe said. “And if he hurries, I can change and one of us can pose as the house butler when that delivery arrives. Does your aunt have a butler?”
“Not since Stavros died.”
“We should have someone on the door,” Rafe said.
Ky went down the passage to tell the others their new clothes were on the way. They stood up when she came into the room as if expecting an inspection. “Relax,” Ky said. She looked around. “Are you all comfortable enough? Need anything besides new clothes?”
“No, sir.”
“Rafe’s called in an associate of his, to bring our things from my aunt Grace’s house. He may be staying; I’ve met him and he’s safe. Don’t ask him questions about his past.”
“No, sir, we wouldn’t,” Inyatta said. “Isn’t there something useful we can do? Cleaning or laundry or something?”
“Well… yes, if you want to.” Keeping busy might be therapeutic. “All the equipment—”
“We found some,” Kamat said. “Laundry?”
“There’s an upstairs laundry on the other end; downstairs is just off the kitchen. And I expect it’s only an hour or two until your new clothes are here.”
“Yes, sir. We’ll get busy.” They all looked happier.
“When we’ve all changed clothes, I’ll want to hear all the details you remember about what happened to you.” Their faces tightened. “I want to find the others, get them to safety. You’re the only people I know who know anything.”