The intimacy of the Razorback and shortness of the trip was like a weekend love affair without the sex. Alex wished they’d thought to bring a few bottles of wine.

The first sign that they weren’t alone came when they were still a couple hundred thousand klicks out from Hungaria. The Razorback’s external sensors blinked and flashed, the proximity reading dancing in and out. Alex closed down the false stars and pulled up tactical and sensor data in their place.

“What’s the matter?” Bobbie asked.

“Unless I’m reading this wrong, this is the time when a military ship would be telling us that someone out there’s painting us.”

“Targeting lasers?”

“Yup,” Alex said, and a creeping sensation went up his spine. “Which is a mite more provocative than I’d have expected.”

“So there is a ship out here that’s gone dark.”

Alex flipped through the databases and matching routines, but it was just standard procedure. He hadn’t expected to find anything and he didn’t.

“No transponder signal. I think we’ve found the Pau Kant. I mean, assuming we can find her. Let’s just see what we see.”

He started a sensor sweep going in a ten-degree arc and popped open the comms for an open broadcast. “Hey out there. We’re the private ship Razorback out of Mars. Couldn’t help noticing you’re pointing a finger at us. We’re not looking for any trouble. If you could see your way to answering back, it’d ease my mind.”

The Razorback was a racing ship. A rich kid’s toy. In the time it took her system to identify the ship that was targeting them, the Roci would have had the dark ship’s profile and specs and a target lock of her own just to make the point. The Razorback chimed that the profile data had been collected and matches were being sought. For the first time since they’d left Mars, Alex felt a profound desire for the pilot’s chair in the Rocinante.

“They’re not answering,” Bobbie said.

“They’re not shooting either,” Alex said. “As long as they think we’re just some yahoo out joyriding, we’ll be fine. Probably.”

Bobbie’s couch hissed on its gimbals as she shifted her weight. She didn’t believe it either. The moments stretched. Alex opened the channel again. “Hey out there, unidentified ship. I’m going to cut thrust here until I hear from you. I’m just letting you know so I don’t startle anyone. I’d really appreciate a ping back, just so we all know we’re good here. No offense meant.”

He cut the drive; the grip of acceleration gravity loosened its hold on him. The gel of the couch launched him gently against his restraints. He could feel his heartbeat in his neck. It was going fast.

“They’re deciding what to do about us,” Bobbie said.