Miles drew himself up.  "I'm going to go talk to this Dr. Leiber.  In person.  Not at his work, I think," he added, his voice slowing in thought.

Roic's mouth set in a grim line.  "You will have a proper security perimeter."

"Certainly.  We'll even take Johannes, so you won't have to be the perimeter all by yourself."

"It's a start."

Miles-san studied Mina, who was still shifting fretfully.  "The connection between Dr. Leiber and your mother exists nowhere in the records I've seen so far—only in your witness, Miss Mina.  If anything comes of it, it will be entirely due to the valuable intelligence you supplied."

She cheered a little at this, or at least her lip stopped quivering.  "Really?"

"Really.  And valuable ImpSec informants get paid, you know.  So do couriers, I am reminded," he added with a glance at Jin.

"But I didn't finish the job," said Jin.

"Capture by the enemy rates hazard pay, actually."

"How much?" asked Mina, brightening a lot more.

"Ah, I like the way you think, kid.  There's actually an official pay schedule.  In Barrayaran marks, of course.  It has codes for various services.  I'll have Roic check it, and do the conversions to Kibou-daini money."

"You propose to pay them adult rates?" asked Vorlynkin.  Jin thought he sounded more startled than disapproving, and hoped he wouldn't try to talk Miles-san out of this wonderful idea.

"Damn straight."  Miles-san added, "My case budget allows for a lot of discretion, you know."

"Then I wish you'd buy some," snapped Vorlynkin.  He shut his mouth abruptly, as if startled at what had fallen out of it.

Miles-san merely grinned at him.  His stiff consul-face back in place, Vorlynkin shepherded Jin and Mina back up to the kitchen to feed them again.  Jin glanced back over his shoulder at the four men turning intently back to their comconsoles, as that heavy door swung shut.  He hoped the consulate had good spy stuff.

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

Dr. Seiichiro Leiber proved to live in a rented row-house in a residential district on the west side of Northbridge, not far from his work.  Miles had Johannes, driving the lift van, circle the block to give him a feel for the neighborhood.  On this pleasant weekend morning, not a few folks were out tending their tiny plots of greenery; a gang of children raced noisily across the lawns, got yelled at by a gardener, and vanished, giggling, around the corner.  Jin and Mina might well have grown up in a place much like this.