Now he was in the Nursery again, with a different purpose. A glance from the doorway showed only three Nurses present Even that seemed cause for concern. They moved busily about their tasks.

None of them disturbed him or thought to question his presence as he made his way casually down the central aisle. The saddle designs had not been altered in his lifetime. All were portable, each equipped with a tiny motor enabling it to be easily moved should an occupant require a shift to surgery or another department

He pretended to gaze admiringly at an infant near the end of the aisle. The emergency exit should be nearby. These were not simple holdovers from ancient times when every Thranx Nursery possessed them, but served as important escape routes in case of fire.

The exit should lead to a ramp at the outskirts of the hive. One who used such a passageway for nonemergency purpose was subject to substantial penalties, but then, so was a kidnaper. The confluence of crimes and antisocial behavior in general among human and Thranx is one of our less obvious similarities, he mused.

The larvae he chose were neither newborns nor those on the verge of metamorphosis. All were approximately at midlarval stage.

His patience was rewarded when not one but two of the Nurses working up the aisle made their way out of the Nursery. When they did not return he quietly started work. Two, three, five of the saddles were linked by couplers. All could now be steered by a single Nurse. Or anyone else. A glance up the aisle showed that the last attendant had disappeared. The cubicle partitions concealed him reasonably well and would do so until he had to move his little train out into the open for the short dash to the emergency exitway. He would be quite satisfied if he could slip them through without being noticed. He did not have time to worry about how long he would have until they were missed.

He was linking the sixth and final saddle to the others when a shockingly familiar scent reached his antennae. They jerked backward in reaction. The scent was followed by a querulous and equally familiar voice.

“Ryo?” He turned. It was Fal.

She wore her uniform vest and neck pouch and was staring at him. How much she’d observed he didn’t know, not that it mattered now. She raised all four hands and gestured at the little line of linked saddles. Their motors whispered, their occupants slept on, oblivious.

“Where did you come from and what do you think you’re doing?”

Ryo discovered that he was breathing in quick, short gasps. His gaze went past her to the Nursery entrance. The other two Nurses still hadn’t returned but he daren’t count on their absence much longer.