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But from the one he was trying to contact, and from the ondatthemselves, nothing but that flash.
Second sip of caff. He keyed an order, opened the downlink.
“Brazis?”
“Ian. Sorry about that little glitch. We’ve been trying to regulate the situation up here. We have a slight emergency. I had the downlink shut down to protect you.”
“Incompetence.”That was the Ila.
“The ondatare involved,” he fired back at that ageless presence. “The ondathave kidnapped Marak’s tap and maybe asked questions of him, for what little he could answer. They may have infiltrated the tap system itself. Theymay be your intruder in the system. So now what can anyone suggest we do?”
There was an unwelcome moment of silence. He so wished that one of the long-lived entities receiving at the moment did have an experience to offer, some ages-old piece of wisdom to moderate the situation.
“Brazis?”
Worse. Marak had just heard them.
“Marak-omi. It is not a good situation. I appeal to you—use restraint. Procyon is physically free. The ondatis talking about hearingProcyon at the moment. Considering everything else that we know about trouble in the system, we ca
“Through Procyon,”the Ila said—who demonstrably knew all about pirating a co
“Isolating Procyon will not solve our problem,” Brazis said. “He may not be the only one up here that the ondathave laid hands on.” Taps were forbidden to discuss station politics or structure with the planet, but the Project Director at his discretion from time to time had to do it, in a limited way, with these few lords of downworld. “The ondathave witnessed the intrusion of an uninvited Earth mission in our midst, investigating a possible export of technology that violates the Treaty. Ondathave snatched Marak-omi’s tap and demonstrated an ability to intrude into our communications system. I strongly suggest—I stronglysuggest that, whatever our personal i
“Have we provoked this attack?”Trust Marak to ask the head-on question.
There followed another moment of silence in the system.
“We certainly did not transmit technology to theondat,” the Ila said sharply. “They have breached the Treaty, interfering in our communications.”
Damn her.And he wasn’t the first Director to think that. “The Ila knows how painfully slow and erratic our communications have been with the ondat,” Brazis said. “And knows how many centuries we have worked to establish certain useful and peaceful boundaries with the ondaton this station. I appeal to you for cooperation. If they have intruded into the tap system, this is a new problem.”
“And did you not send Marak’s watcher to the Earth authority, breaking down certain boundaries?”
Uncomfortable question.
“We did so. It was a serious error.”
“Record it,”the Ila said, perhaps to an attending au’it. “We did not precipitate this crisis. The director did.Now do you wish our advice in the matter?”
Noone rebuked the woman, this eternal prisoner of the onworld establishment, this epicenter of all problems that had ever existed.
“Yes,” Brazis was constrained to say, keenly aware of Marak’s silent presence. “We would be grateful for that, Ila.”
“There is an undocumented stranger on your station. He arrived on a ship from Orb. So I hear.”
The Ila’s lately brain-dead tap could have given more details than that, he was quite sure.
“There is one I know about.”
“There is another.”
“And where shall we find this person? What is his name, Ila?”
“His name. His name.—Typhon, perhaps.”
“Was he in contact with your senior tap, Ila?”
“He might have been. Acquainted with Argent, yes, but not intimately.”
Zillha Faron. The Ila’s tap. Argent, by chosen name—was brain-dead, resurrection officially failed. Argent was no help to them now—except what items security could turn up in her credit cards and the other detritus of a life cut short. If that contact was in there…if there was something in Argent’s records that had to do with anyone from Orb…
“Thank you,” he said, not without feeling.
“Would this Typhon be tapped in now, Ila, hearing us as we speak?”This from Ian. “Might hebe the provocation of theondat?”
“By no means,”the Ila said airily. “We have not shared our technology with this person or his followers. We are i
Typhon. Brazis’s fingers flew on the keyboard.
Typhon. Egyptian name. God of the desert. God of the waste-land. The destroyer of life. The station knew no such legally arrived individual.
“I’ll investigate,” Brazis said. “Best we break off. We’re all exposed, so long as we maintain this link.”
A series of flashes and static. Tap-out—from the uplink itself, Brazis suspected. Ian, likely, had shut it down again, while keeping his own on-planet relays up.
He was on his own up here.
“Dia
As fast as it took to leave a desk and open a door.
“Sir,” Dia
“A name. Typhon. T-y-p-h-o-n. From Orb. It may be an alias. It sounds suspiciously like that. Tell the Argent team that’s possibly their target. She knew him. Tell enforcement I want an arrest in the next five minutes.”
“Yes, sir.” As the phone beeped.
Brazis picked it up himself. “Brazis.”
“Antonio.”Reaux. “ Antonio, the ambassador’s been tapped. Infected. They think it’s a nanocele.”
Brazis’s heart did a skip and a thump. Dia
“Not our doing. I assure you,” Brazis said.
“I don’t think it is. But can one of your hospitals take him? Can they do anything for him?”
“We’re certainly willing to try.” That offer was a leap over a chasm of red tape and negotiation. “The faster the better.” Damned right he wanted the ambassador in his hands. He wanted to trace the source of that nanocele…as if he didn’t have a terrible, sinking feeling he knew what it was and from what source it came. He committed an indiscretion himself, aware that ship out there might be listening. He hoped they did hear. “ Ondat. Ondatmay be our source. Handle this with extreme caution.”
A little silence on the other end—from the man who’d instigated the message to the ondat, askingtheir intervention. “Why do you think that?”
“Because my man is walking Blunt at this moment with an ondatsign branded on his forehead.”
“I have the same information. What are you doing about it?”
“I don’t want to answer that on-line.”
“Dortland’s headed down there. My daughter is somewhere down on Blunt. He knows where she is.”
A father’s desperation. A hostage. A desperate request that a governor couldn’t ethically make.
“I’ll bear that in mind.” Damn, he thought. Complications.
“If we get a containment team to bring Gide to your level, where should we take him?”