They’d been quicker than Surit had thought. He didn’t move. “Can this be done tomorrow? My duties—”

“Your commanding officer will be informed,” the captain said. “And going by your reports, Lieutenant Yeni, there seems to be a serious risk that you won’t be here tomorrow. Am I wrong?”

Surit looked at the captain’s eyes, which were blank, and saw someone else behind them.

Captain Fari smiled, apparently unaware he wasn’t in full command of his own mind. He said, “Would you come with me?”

CHAPTER 22

So Surit was finally leaving Archer Station. That was good. Surit would organize his unit’s escape back to Cavalry with his normal sickening competence, and the unit would give him three cheers and a medal, and Tennal would fade from all their memories in about a month. Tennal had been working for that exact goal for weeks, so there was no reason that this should make him irritated.

The thought kept stealing in like unwelcome morning light: he would miss Surit.

It didn’t matter. They’d only met weeks ago. Tennal hadn’t even written Surit a goodbye message, not after the effort of a message to Zin had nearly killed him. Tennal couldn’t afford to care about any more people.

He took a small bag, left his district, and headed to the docks under the city.

Tennal hadn’t yet explored the lower rings of Archer Link Station. Underneath the great dome of the city, the stacked discs were occupied by environmental systems and automated factories. The largest ring, and the reason for the station’s existence, was the enormous circular docks. Ships flocked to its hatches like fish to a feeder. A constant stream of traffic went between it and the city; it was easy for Tennal to slip quietly into the flow.

The gates to the transit hub—the same ones Birimi had taken that morning—were bustling. Some civilians were being questioned, but Tennal was an Archer captain, so he presented his bios and walked straight through.

There was almost certainly a flag on his account. An alert would be making its way up the chain. But Tennal going to the docks would not, in itself, tell Oma anything. He could have legitimate reasons to be there. And she would know there was nowhere in-sector that he could run to.

Better be quick.

When the tube car disgorged him into the transit hub, Tennal had to stop, momentarily overwhelmed. There were thousands of people. Floating screens glowed everywhere. It took him a while to orient himself: that was retail, that way was transient hostels, and that way was the huge flow of traffic to the in-system planets. And at the far end, lit with an amber glow, was the gate to the link.