They started up the serviceway, stepping over the still rigid body of the man named Weldon. No one stood guard over the airlock leading to the Seeker. People did not steal Supralight-drive ships. It was almost comically easy. No one was in a humorous mood, however.

The hatches were unsealed. For a second time the crew of the Seeker prepared to flee with their ship. Only this time they were running not from another people but from their own. How Wuu would love this situation, Ryo mused, thinking fondly of the old poet and wishing he were present to offer advice and companionship.

I had two equally fine human companions, he reminded himself. Only now one of them is dead, because of me.

It was true there were no alarms to set off, no traps to trigger. But when the Seeker’s maneuvering engines were engaged and the umbilicals connecting it to the station power system were jettisoned, portions of the orbiting city’s instrumentation came alive rapidly.

Ryo stood in the control room, watching his friends. Bonnie threw herself into her work, becoming an emotionless appendage of her station. Dr. Bhadravati paced and fidgeted as if he did not know what to do with his manipulating digits. Not being a member of the crew, he was at that moment as useless as Ryo. Unlike Ryo, however, he was dying to do something.

From the first, there was nothing ordinary about the inquiries that sounded over the console speakers. “You there, aboard DSR Seeker, acknowledge! You have disengaged and your engines are functioning. DSR Seeker is not authorized to disengage. Who is aboard, please? Acknowledge, DSR Seeker!”

“This is Captain Elvira Manuela de loa de Sanchez. I acknowledge for DSR Seeker. Received and acknowledge orders to check out sublight engines and life-support prior to boost to C-III for overhaul prior to next EX flight. All okay here. Sorry about any confusion.” She clicked off. “That ought to keep them busy for a while.”

Indeed, by the time the speakers squawked again the station was just a disk against the reflective side of Centaurus VII. The voice that came this time was deeper and more emphatic than that of the station’s duty communicator.

“Seeker, this is Colonel G.R. Davis, Centaurus Station commander. You are ordered to return to base forthwith. We have checked with both station command computer and EX Control on C-V. The Seeker is not due for overhaul for another six weeks.”

“I know,” Sanchez replied calmly. “We thought we’d start her out early and bring her in slow so we could give her systems a thorough run-through in case there are any on-the-verge problems. I’m anxious to be rid of her.”

“You will be rid of her permanently—and all other possible commands if you don’t return her to dock immediately.” Voices could be heard arguing in the background.