Allison had steepled her fingers. “I think we need a plan for just that contingency. I have options available. A network we can use if we need to relocate some of her people from harm’s way.”

“No indenturing.” Yvette pointed a stern finger. “Not this time.”

Allison arched a pale blond eyebrow. “I’d like to think I’m smarter than Dan when it comes to things like that. Meanwhile, we might want to check out some of the other abandoned research bases. Places like Jade, Wide Ridge, and Ytterbium Base.”

“And we can always filter people out to some of the Wild Ones.” Shig’s eyes had gone thoughtful. “Poor time for Whitey to show up again. You know he’ll try something.”

Talina glanced at Dek. “But, as I understand it, the real danger is this IG. The rest of these people, they’re just family representatives. Not sanctioned by the Board. So, it’s not like Falise outranks you, is it?”

“Not ipso facto,” Dek glanced around the table. “But you all need to be aware, we’re about to engage in a most dangerous game. And you are about to play it with some of the most amoral human beings alive.”

Chapter 8

  8  

Just down from the AC, on Command Deck, the captain’s lounge was little more than a cramped closet stuffed back against the curve of Turalon’s hull. It consisted of a central table, com projectors, and six chairs. In the back was a small galley with a stove, hot and cold drinks, and a limited selection of food packets. It was designed as a refuge for the ship’s captain and his/her ranking officers. A place where they could retreat from the more public areas and duty stations.

When Bartolome Radcek had first expressed a desire to use the room, Captain Abibi had graciously and wisely acquiesced. Falise suspected that the good captain—even if she didn’t know Bart’s reputation—had sensed somewhere down deep that she was dealing with a human tarantula, no matter how sweet his smile or amiable his expression. And, no sooner had Bart taken to relaxation in the lounge than Falise, Chad, and Cinque had claimed similar privileges.

While they had divided the personal quarters into separate territories during the transition, the lounge had become neutral ground. The place where the four could meet for candid discussions without entourages, posturing, or staff.

After all, a year and seven months was a long time to play each other. Feel out each other’s weaknesses. Score points, wins, and losses. Like Falise’s successful seduction of Kramer, Bartolome’s valet. It had taken Bart almost three months to figure out that she had compromised his personal servant and bodyguard. Kramer’s sudden death from “cardiac arrest” had shocked everyone. But the good thing about servants? They provided as many nutrients to the hydroponics system as anyone else.