Rachel thrust her own foot out and spun Ruby around, using the outthrust leg as leverage. Ruby kept swearing, trying to get up. Rachel considered the situation for a few seconds, then kicked Ruby in the ribs.

She felt a satisfying crack. “Now we’re even.”

“You knew somebody was carrying out espionage here?”

The Prefect Siloh nodded. “But not how.”

Rachel suppressed her anger. “How much did they get?”

“Some useful items your work turned up, of course.” He sniffed. “That was perhaps inevitable. But now, thanks to that Ruby person’s overreach, we have nabbed them. Earthside will pry secrets from her. If she survives her trip there, which commences once she has passed through her interrogations here.”

“Survive?” Rachel had been through some grueling neuro-analysis in the last day, all very polite but invasive, during imposed sleeps. That had left her feeling rocky. Yet it had also given her time to think. That, and have a rousing good time with Fraq and his flock, a sort of post-hunt ritual that reminded her of when her father came home with buddies, tired and triumphant, from hunting deer with crossbows. Primitive fun, yes—and thoroughly analyzed by all the xenoists who studied the videos. She had even gotten Cat invited, who had gushed about it all for hours. “I never thought Ruby would—”

“It is not for you to do or comprehend such exotic technical espionage.” Siloh allowed himself a thin smile. Your task is now not dual, but triple. You will, of course, connect with the Flock”—she could hear the capitalization—“when they desire such. And you shall seek out hints, while among them, to wormhole possibilities. And you may return to your pod and conduct further forays into the Messages.” He sat back with a satisfied air.

“What about what happens to the Ark, whether they bring any of the life-forms down? I’d like to see it developed, a place in the Library—”

“Not your problem. Good work, but you must step aside. We will do as we decide.”

Rachel bit off some bitter words, then… let the silence stretch. Be the diplomat here, not the Librarian…. Best to get back to her real business. “I’m aware that I’m not the fastest fox in the forest here,” she began. “But I have an idea.”

The Prefect brightened. “Ah. Fastest fox—I do appreciate bio analogies, since we live on a dead world.” He steepled his hands on the desk and donned an expectant face, eyebrows arched.

She took a deep breath, nostrils flared at the antiseptic air of his shadowy reserve. After the Ythri flight, Ruby’s attack, Cat’s excited interest in all such drama—she had suddenly felt her own ideas converge. How to get back to being simply a Librarian…? She spoke slowly. “I have a suspicion. The older dwarf stars with rich biospheres—they’re lying low.”

“From our probes?”

“Yes—that’s why they shot down our observing craft.”

“Aha.” A salamander stare.

So he wants me to spell it out. “I estimate the rejecting biospheres are several million years old, at least. Really old! They let our probes approach, even allowed drop balloons, then—wham.”