Van Atta put an extra half-meter of distance between himself and the suddenly poetic security captain.

"Weapons," Van Atta said. "What kind of weapons does Security have on tap?"

"Stunners," answered Bannerji, straightening up and studying his right thumbnail. Was there a flash of mockery in his eyes? No, he wouldn't dare.

"I mean on your shuttle," said Van Atta irritably. "Ship-mounted weapons. Teeth. You can't make a threat without teeth."

"There are two medium-power ship-mounted laser units. Last time we used them was—let me see—to burn through a log snag that had backed up flood waters threatening an exploration camp."

"Yes, well, it's more than they have, anyway," said Van Atta excitedly. "We can attack the Habitat—or the superjumper—either, really. The main thing is to keep them from connecting with each other. Yes, get the jumpship first. Without it the Habitat is a sitting target we can polish off at our leisure. Is your security shuttle fueled up and ready to go, Bannerji?"

Dr. Yei had paled. "Hold on! Who's talking about attacking anything? We haven't even made verbal contact yet. If the hijackers are indeed quaddies, I'm sure I could persuade them to listen to reason—"

"It's too late for reason. This situation calls for action." Van Atta's humiliation burned hot in his stomach, fueled by fear. When the company brass found out how totally he had lost control—well, he'd better be firmly back in control by then.

"Yes, but . . ." Yei licked her lips, "it's all very well to threaten, but the actual use of force is dangerous—maybe destructive—hadn't you better get some kind of authorization first? If something went horribly wrong, you wouldn't want to be left holding the bag, surely."

Van Atta paused. "It would take too much time," he objected at last. "Maybe a day, to reach District HQ on Orient IV and return. And if they decided it was too hot and bounced it all the way to Apmad on Earth, it could be several days before we got a reply."

"But it's going to be several days, isn't it?" said Yei, watching him intently. "Even if they succeed in fitting the Habitat to the superjumper, they aren't going to be able to swing it around and boost it like a fast courier. It would never stand the strain, it would use too much fuel—there's lots of time yet. Wouldn't it be better to get authorization, to be safe? Then, if anything went wrong—it wouldn't be your fault."

"Well . . ." Van Atta slowed still further. How typical of Yei's wishy-washy, wimpy indecision. He could almost hear her, in his head: Now, let's all sit down and discuss this like reasonable people. . . . He loathed letting her push his buttons; still, she had a valid point: cover-your-ass was a fundamental rule for survival even of the fittest.