“Um.” Honor rubbed the tip of her nose and frowned. The NPA’s vehicles, for the most part, worked fairly close in to the enclaves, she reflected. “Could they be meeting to transship that far out just to stay beyond your interception range?”

“I doubt it. Oh, it has that effect, but they seem to operate in singletons, as far as we can tell, and they’d have to be working with very low-mass consignments, unless they have a base with their own cargo-handling equipment tucked away somewhere. And even if their cargoes were small and light enough to hand load, they’re losing our radar, outbound and inbound, in the Madcat Mountains or over in the Mossybacks. If all they were doing was meeting other air traffic, why come out of the mountains where we can see them at all? They could rendezvous in one of the valleys out there, and we’d never spot them without a direct overflight. Besides, I’m beginning to have some very unhappy suspicions about what they might be up to.”

“Such as, Ma’am?”

“You remember your first visit, when I mentioned mekoha to you?” Honor nodded, and Dame Estelle shrugged. “Well, as I said then, mekoha’s highly sophisticated for the Medusans’ technology. They’re surprisingly good bathtub alchemists, but this is a pretty complex—and potent—alkaloid analogue with a kicker something like an endorphin. It’s not an endorphin, or at least, we don’t think it is, but we’re only beginning to really understand Medusan biochemistry, so we could be wrong. Anyway—” she made a moue and shook her head “—what matters is that manufacturing it is a lengthy, complicated, and dangerous process for the local alchemists, especially in the final drying and grinding stages when they have to worry about breathing free dust. That means any heavy, systematic use of it has been restricted, by and large, to the wealthier natives simply on the basis of cost.”

She paused, watching Honor until she nodded in understanding.

“All right. The other thing to remember about mekoha is that it has some really nasty side effects. It’s extremely addictive, and the lethal dose varies widely from individual to individual, particularly with the poor quality control the alchemists can manage, so a mekoha-smoker usually ends up doing himself in with it eventually. It provides a short-term sense of euphoria and exhilaration and mild—at least, usually mild—hallucinations, but in the long term it produces severe respiratory and motor control damage, gradual loss of neural function, and a marked decrease in both attention span and measurable IQ. All of that is bad enough, but if the drug is sufficiently pure, it produces a strength reaction like an adrenalin-high and virtually shuts down the pain receptors, and the immediate euphoria can slide into a sort of induced psychosis with absolutely no warning, probably because of the hallucinogenic properties. Medusans don’t normally indulge very much in violence. Oh, they’re as fractious as any other bunch of aborigines you’d care to name, and some of the nomads are natural-born raiders by inclination, but the sort of random or hysterical mob violence you see in disfunctional societies isn’t part of their matrix. Unless there’s mekoha around. Mix in mekoha, and all bets are off.”