Deep Storm

At this, Spartan turned toward Korolis, eyebrows rising. "Isn't that rather precipitous?"

"The safety of the entire Facility hangs in the balance."

Spartan's lips twitched in a small and bitter smile. "What about her right to habeas corpus?"

Korolis stared back in surprise. "Under the circumstances, sir, that's not a consideration."

When Spartan didn't answer, Korolis spoke again. "There's something else. Remember Asher's last word, the one he repeated to Crane?"

Spartan nodded. "'Whip.'"

"What if he wasn't saying 'whip' at all? What if he was trying to say Hui Ping?"

Looking at Korolis, Spartan's eyes narrowed.

"That's right, sir. 'Hui P…Hui P…' It sounds exactly the same-'wee P.'"

At last, Spartan roused himself. "Very well. But there's no need for the brig. Just have her confined to quarters until the matter can be resolved."

"Sir, with all due respect, I think the brig would be-"

"Just follow orders, Commander."

There was a flicker of movement over Korolis's shoulder. Spartan glanced up to see Peter Crane standing in the open doorway.

"Dr. Crane," he said, raising his voice a trifle. "Don't stand on ceremony. Come join us."

Korolis turned quickly, sucking in his breath with a hiss of surprise.

Crane came forward, his short dark hair and dark eyes in sharp contrast to the white of his medical coat. Spartan wondered how long he'd been standing there, and how much he had heard.

"What can we do for you, Doctor?" he asked.

Crane's gray eyes moved from Spartan, to Korolis, to what was left of the Marble, before returning to the admiral. "I was looking for Commander Korolis, actually."

"You seem to have found him."

Crane turned to Korolis. "Those characters you have guarding the hyperbaric therapy suite told me to speak with you. I want Asher's laptop."

Korolis frowned. "Why?"

"I think he discovered something just before the accident happened. Perhaps the meaning of the signals the sentinels are transmitting."

"The laptop was severely damaged in the fire," Korolis said.

"It's worth a shot," Crane replied quickly. "Wouldn't you agree?"

Spartan watched the exchange with curiosity. Clearly, these were two men who had very little use for each other.

Now Korolis lifted his gaze to Spartan, who nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Very well," the commander said. "Come with me. It's being held in an evidence locker."

"Thanks." Crane glanced at Spartan, nodded, then turned to follow Korolis out of the locker.

"Dr. Crane?" Spartan said.

Crane glanced back.

"If you find anything, report it to me immediately, please."

"Very well."

Korolis saluted and the two men stepped out of the locker. But Spartan stood there in the chill air, looking thoughtfully after them, for a long time.

39

Crane found Hui Ping in her lab, scrutinizing an absorption line printout and making notations on the pale green datasheet with a felt marker. She looked up as he entered, smiled.

"Oh, good," she said. "You got the laptop."

The smile faltered as she caught the expression on his face. "Peter. Something wrong?"

Crane stepped forward. He glanced up at the security camera mounted in the ceiling, stayed carefully out of its field of view. "I have to ask you something. Have you ever been to Outer Hull Receiving?"

"You mean, the place where the Tub docks with fresh supplies?" She shook her head. "Never."

"Where were you around the time Asher died?"

"Here, in my lab. I was studying these absorption lines, remember? I told you that."

"So you were nowhere near the hyperbaric chamber."

"No." Ping frowned. "Why? What are you getting at?"

Crane hesitated. He was about to take a calculated risk-and, very probably, break every rule in the lengthy agreements he'd signed when he came here. It was true he could think of no reason why Korolis would lie about Ping's involvement. And aiding a suspected saboteur was a treasonable offense. But his gut told him she was trustworthy.

Besides, she was the only person who could help him learn what Asher had discovered.

He licked his lips. "Listen carefully. Korolis claims you're the saboteur."

Ping's eyes widened. "Me? But-"

"Just listen. He's convinced Spartan to put you under house arrest. A detail will be down here to escort you to your quarters at any moment."

"That can't be." Her breathing grew fast and shallow. "That's not right."

He gestured her toward him, out of camera range. "Calm down, it's okay. I'm getting you out of here."

"But where?"

"Just relax. I need you to think. Is there a lab or some other place where you can work on the laptop? Somewhere isolated, out of the way, without security cameras?"

Hui didn't answer.

"Look, I'm not going to let them take you. But we have to get out of here. Now do you know of a place like that?"

She nodded, making an effort to calm herself. "On deck six. The Maritime Applied Physics Lab."

"Okay. But there's something I need to do first. Step over here, out of the camera's view." And-reaching into the pocket of his lab coat-he pulled out a sterile wrapper. As Hui drew close, he tore away the wrapper, exposing a number 12 scalpel that gleamed in the artificial light.

When she saw the scalpel, Hui stopped. "What's that for?"

"I need to remove the RFID tags they inserted in us," Crane said, pulling out additional medical equipment and laying it on the table. "Otherwise, they'll find us anywhere."

He pulled up the sleeve of his lab coat, swabbed the dimpled area on his forearm with disinfectant. He let the scalpel hover over his skin a moment as he held his breath.

The first incision sliced through the epidermis. The second penetrated the dermis and exposed the RFID tag, embedded amid yellow subcutaneous fat. Hui looked away as he plucked out the radio tag with tissue forceps, then let it drop to the floor of the lab and crushed it underfoot.

"There," he said. "Now I can't be tracked like some migrating fowl."

He dressed and sterilized the wound, applied a butterfly closure, and tossed the scalpel in the wastebasket. Then-pulling another sterile scalpel from his pocket-he turned toward her.

She took an involuntary step backward.

"Don't worry," he said. "I've got an anesthetic pad to numb your skin. The only reason I didn't use one on myself was because I accidentally grabbed just one from the dispensary in the temporary infirmary."

Still, she hesitated.

"Hui," he said. "You've got to trust me."

She sighed, nodded. Then she stepped forward again, pushing up her own sleeve as she did so.

40

"Ready?" Crane said, disposing of the medical instruments. "Then take what you need and let's go."

Hui hesitated a moment. Then she walked to her desk, pulled open a drawer, and removed a bulky tool kit. Next, she disco

"What's that for?" Crane asked, nodding at her laptop.

"Spare parts." She straightened. "Ready."

"Lead the way, then. Avoid marines and security cameras."

They left the radiology lab and made their way down the narrow corridors of deck 3. At the first intersection, Hui stopped, then chose the right-hand path to avoid a security camera. They followed the corridor to the end, where it doglegged left.

Crane turned the corner, then stopped. Ahead of them, to one side of the hallway, two marines stood on guard outside a closed, redpainted door.

He thought quickly. The marines had radios clipped to their belts. But chances were very good there hadn't been any general a