Then, almost delicately, the gokra closed the folder without even lookingbehind the map at my actual ID and handed it back to me. "Thank you," he said, almostprimly. "We won't be long."
And they weren't. They wandered up and down the various corridors, glancedaround the engine room and bridge, casually examined the curving metal of thecargo compartment and confirmed there was no entry hatch, and made a copy ofCameron's fake Gamm sealed-cargo license to take for their files. Nicabarreturned while they were poking around; I told him to get dried off and thengetthe thrusters ready to go. At one point, almost as an afterthought, the gokraalso presented me with the bill for our fueling, explaining that he'd taken itfrom the ground crew when he arrived and found them waiting for my return. Hedidn't seem surprised that I paid the bill in cash, or that there were fiveextra hundred-commark bills in the stack I gave him. And that was it. Tenminutes after they'd come in out of the rain, they were out in it again, striding briskly toward the slideways and headed home.
"All right, I give up," Tera murmured from my side as she and I stood in thewraparound and watched them go. "Who is Mr. Antoniewicz, and why won't he behappy if they find anything?"
I grimaced. I hadn't thought she would be able to read the note from her angleas I'd scribbled it on the map. "He's just someone I know," I said evasively.
"He has a certain amount of influence around the Spiral."
"I'd say he has a great deal of influence," she said, eyeing me in a way Ididn't much care for. "You know him personally or professionally?"
"I've done some business with his people," I said. A movement outside caughtmyeye: Everett, our last crewman still unaccounted for, had appeared around thebow of one of the nearby ships and was plodding our way, his big feet kickingupimpressive splashes with each step. He looked tired; he must have worn himselfout looking for Shawn. Not surprising, really, given that he probablyconsidered it his fault the kid had gotten away in the first place. "Here comes Everett," added to Tera, hoping to forestall any further questions, as I dug out thefake cassette. "Tell him to check Shawn and see if he needs another dose yet—here'sthe borandis. As soon as he's aboard, seal the hatch and get to the computerroom."
I left her there and headed to the bridge, feeling both cautiously relievedand cautiously pleased with myself. I'd been right: Brother John's grudging admiration for the Najik had indeed been based on the fact that theAntoniewicz organization was able to do business with them. Clearly, our customs gokra wasin on the deal, and dropping Antoniewicz's name had been enough to wave himoff us. I still didn't know why the Icarus had been fingered for a search, but assoon as we were out of Potosi space that wouldn't matter.
Assuming we did get out of Potosi space, of course. If the gokra had merelytaken the extra cash in order to add attempted bribery to the charges againstme, he should be rounding the corner any minute with that army battalion I'dbeen expecting earlier.
But for once, my pessimism proved unfounded. We got clearance to lift, theport's grav beams lifted us smoothly out and up, and within a few minutes wewere once again in space. I had cut us into hyperspace and was doing a quickcheck of the systems when the door opened and Everett came in. "We safelyaway?" he asked.
"Unless the hull decides to collapse, we are," I told him.
He made a face. "Considering the way things have been going, that's not veryfunny."
"I suppose not," I conceded. "Sorry. How's Shawn doing?"
"Seems to be recovering," he said. "Fortunately, the reversible Cole's diseasesymptoms begin long before the irreversible damage kicks in. And the borandisdependence itself is more or less reversible at any point. Rather like scurvyin that respect."
"That's handy," I said. "How much of his current trouble is related to thedependence and how much to the disease?"
He shook his head, peering at the displays. "I don't know. The two problemsintermix so tightly it takes a specialist to disentangle them. We're going toMorsh Pon next?"
"Yes," I said. "After that little run-in back there, I thought it might benice to refuel someplace where they don't bother at all with customs formalities."
"If you live to get back out," he said dubiously. "I've heard stories aboutthat world—bands of pirates and smugglers roaming the streets looking for trouble."
"We'll be all right," I told him with a confidence I didn't much feel myself.
"I'll make you a small wager that it won't be as bad as you think."
"Um," Everett said noncommittally, still looking doubtful. "Still, you're thecaptain; power of life and death over your crew, and all that. Speaking ofwhich—the crew, I mean—I haven't seen Ixil since before we landed on Potosi."
"Neither have I," I said. "But I'm sure he's all right."
"Yes," he said hesitantly. "The reason I asked, you see, was that I triedchecking on him and his cabin door wouldn't open."
"That's okay—I set it that way to make sure he had some privacy," I assuredhim.
"I just hope it didn't slam on your fingers."
"What do you mean?" Everett asked, looking puzzled. "It didn't slam. It didn'topen at all."
I stared at him, a sudden chill running through me. "It didn't open a fewcentimeters and then shut again?"
"I told you: it didn't even budge," he insisted. "I thought maybe it hadgottenjammed—"
I didn't wait to hear any more, jumping out of my seat and dodging past him tothe ladder out in the corridor. I slid down it without touching any of the rungs, my heart pounding suddenly in my throat. I reached Ixil's door andtried the release pad.
Everett was right. It didn't budge at all.
I had my multitool out and was unfastening the pad's cover by the time Everettcaught up. "You think something's wrong?" he puffed as he came up beside me.
"There's something wrong with the door, anyway," I said, fighting hard tospeakcalmly, to keep my fear and rage out of my voice. If the saboteur had beenhere while Ixil was lying helpless... but maybe the control chip had simply burnedout. With my fingers fumbling slightly in their hurry, I got the cover off.
The control chip hadn't simply burned out. The control chip wasn't there atall.
What was there looked like it had been attacked by a gorilla with a smallsledgehammer.
Beside me, Everett gasped. "What in hell's name—?"
"Our friend who wrecks cutting torches does doors, too," I snarled, droppingthe cover on the deck and hurrying to the door to my own cabin. One glance was allI'd needed to know Ixil's release pad was going to need some major work, and Icould replace it with the one from my door in a fraction of the time. "Go tothe computer room and tell Tera to take the bridge," I called back over myshoulder as I set to work on the fasteners.
I had my release pad off and was starting on Ixil's when Everett returned, afirst-aid kit clutched in his hand. "I thought we might need this," he saidgrimly, setting it down out of my way. "What can I do?"
"Hold this," I said, thrusting the damaged pad into his hands. A first-aid kitwasn't going to do a damned bit of good. Not now. Our saboteur had had plentyof time to make this one a leisurely killing. "What exactly happened after Shawngot loose?"
"He ran out of the ship," Everett said, rubbing at the side of his neck. "I'mafraid he got past me—"
"What about the others?" I cut him off. "Where were they when all this washappening?"