"Gunshot!" Leo stared aghast at the guard, who reddened. "Did you—I thought you guys carried stunners—why in the name of God—"

"When that damned hysteric called down from the Habitat, yammering about his escaped monsters, I thought—I thought—I don't know what I thought." The guard glowered at his boots.

"Didn't you look before you fired?"

"I damn near shot the girl with the baby." The guard shuddered. "I hit this kid by accident, jerking my aim away."

Van Atta panted up. "Holy shit, what a mess!" His eye fell on the security guard. "I thought I told you to keep this quiet, Bannerji. What did you do, set off a bomb?"

"He shot Tony," said Leo through his teeth.

"You idiot, I told you to capture them, not murder them! How the hell am I supposed to sweep this"—he waved his arm down Aisle 29—"under the rug? And what the hell were you doing with a pistol anyway?"

"You said—I thought—" the guard began.

"I swear I'll have you canned for this. Of all the ass-backwards—did you think this was some kind of feelie-dream drama? I don't know whose judgment is worse, yours or the jerk's who hired you—"

The guard's face had gone from red to white. "Why you stupid son-of-a-bitch, you set me up for this—"

Somebody had better keep a level head, Leo thought wretchedly. Bannerji had retrieved and holstered his unauthorized weapon, a fact of which Van Atta seemed to be unconscious—the temptation to shoot the project chief shouldn't be allowed to get too overwhelming—Leo intervened. "Gentlemen, may I suggest that charges and defenses would be better saved for a formal investigation, where everyone will be cooler and, er, more reasoned. Meantime we have some hurt and frightened kids to take care of."

Bannerji fell silent, simmering with injustice. Van Atta growled assent, contenting himself with a black look toward Bannerji that boded ill for the guard's future career. The two medtechs snapped down the wheels of Tony's stretcher and began rolling him down the aisle toward their waiting truck. One of Claire's hands reached out after him, fell back hopelessly.

The gesture caught Van Atta's attention. Full of suppressed rage, he discovered he had an object on which to vent it after all. "You—!" he turned on Claire.

She flinched into a tighter huddle.

"Do you have any idea what this escapade of yours is going to cost the Cay Project, first to last? Of all the irresponsible—did you con Tony into this?"

She shook her head, eyes widening.

"Of course you did, isn't it always the way. The male sticks his neck out, the female gets it chopped off for him—"

"Oh, no. . . ."

"And the timing—were you deliberately trying to smear me? How did you find out about the Ops VP—did you figure I'd cover up for you just because she was here? Clever, clever—but not clever enough!"