“I don’t know.” Matsuko frowned in thought. “I suppose it would depend on its production levels, but the process is fairly involved. I’d imagine the total energy cost is pretty high. It can’t be too high, since the Medusans make do with water-power, sweat, and sunlight evaporation in the final drying steps, but they also produce it in very small lots in proportionately small ‘labs.’ I doubt our off-worlders—assuming we’re right about what’s going on—rely on that kind of technology, especially if they’re producing the volumes my people suspect are in use. Why?”

“Check with Barney Isvarian,” Honor suggested. “If your people can come up with some sort of parameters for the power involved, he can monitor the central grid and see if anyone’s using a suspicious amount of juice. I know a lot of the enclaves have their own generators or orbital power collectors, but that would at least let you do some tentative elimination of suspects and narrow your target area.”

“That’s a good idea,” Dame Estelle agreed, tapping notes into her terminal.

“Um. And while you’re at it, see if your techs can give you an estimate for reasonable legitimate power use for the enclaves that aren’t on your central grid. We can’t do much with the ones with internal generators, but I can put some unobtrusive meters on the orbital collectors.”

“Even if you find a high demand, it won’t be proof,” Matsuko pointed out, and Honor nodded.

“Not proof, no. But, as I say, we can probably eliminate some of the innocents, at least, and it may give us a lead.” She nodded thoughtfully. “In the meantime, I’ll have Ensign Tremaine make some orbital passes looking for power sources outside the enclaves.” She grinned suddenly. “I wouldn’t want him getting bored now that he and his people have the smugglers cut down to size, now would I?”

“You’re a terrible person, Commander Harrington,” Dame Estelle said with an answering grin.

“Dame Estelle, you have no idea how terrible,” Honor agreed cheerfully. Then she sobered a bit. “It’s not much, but it’s the best I can offer. If you think of any other way we can help you out, please let me know and I’ll do what I can.”

“Thank you,” the commissioner said gratefully. “And it’s a nice change to—” She broke off with a shrug and a faint smile, and Honor nodded once again.

“You’re welcome, Ma’am,” she said, and switched off her com.

Chapter Fourteen

DENVER Summervale raised his head from the data terminal with a cold frown as his office door opened, and the woman who’d opened it swallowed unobtrusively. Summervale was a hard, dangerous man, with a record of dead bodies to prove it, and he disliked interruptions, but she stood her ground. It wasn’t as if she had a choice. Besides, he’d been working on the books, and most of that scowl probably stemmed more from his hatred for paperwork than her sudden appearance.

“What?” he demanded in an arctic, aristocratic accent.