The holovid solidified, showing a hospital bed. Tony was braced against the raised backrest, looking directly into the vid. He wore T-shirt and shorts, a white bandage around his left lower bicep, a thick stiffness to his torso hinting at wrappings beneath. His face was furrowed, flushed over a pale underlay. His blue eyes shifted nervously, white-rimmed like a frightened pony's, to the right of his bed where Bruce Van Atta stood.

"Took you long enough to answer your call, Graf," Van Atta said, smirking unpleasantly.

Leo swallowed hard. "Hullo, Tony. We haven't forgotten you, up here. Claire and Andy are all right, and back together—"

"You're here to listen, Graf, not talk," Van Atta interrupted. He fiddled with a control. "There, I've just cut your audio, so you can save your breath. All right, Tony"—Van Atta prodded the quaddie with a silver-colored rod—what was it? Leo wondered fearfully—"say your piece."

Tony's gaze shifted back, to the silent vid image Leo guessed, and his eyes widened urgently. He took a deep breath and began gabbling, "Whatever you're doing, Leo, keep doing it. Never mind about me. Get Claire away—get Andy away—"

The holovid blacked out abruptly, although the audio channel remained open a moment longer. It emitted a strange spatting noise, a scream, and Van Atta swearing, "Hold still, you little shit!" before the sound cut off too.

Leo found himself gripping one of Silver's hands.

"Claire was on her way over," Silver said in an undervoice, "to be in on this call."

Leo's eyes met hers. "I think you'd better go divert her."

Silver nodded grim understanding. "Right." She swung away.

The vid came back up. Tony was huddled silently in the far corner of the bed, head down, upper hands over his face. Van Atta stood glaring, rocking furiously on his heels.

"The kid's a slow learner, evidently," Van Atta snarled to Leo. "I'll make it short and clear, Graf. You may hold hostages, but if you so much as touch 'em, you can be swung in any court in the galaxy. I've got a hostage I can do anything I want to, legally. And if you don't think I will, just try me. Now, we're going to be sending a security shuttle up there in a little while to restore order. And you will cooperate with it." He held up the silvery rod, pressed something; Leo saw an electric spark spit from its tip. "This is a simple device, but I can get real creative with it, if you force me to. Don't force me to, Leo."

"Nobody's forcing you to—" Leo began.

"Ah," Van Atta interrupted, "just a minute . . ."—he touched his holovid control—"now talk so's I can hear you. And it had better be something I want to hear."