As happened on rare occasions when she was with others, Honesty spoke within her head: “Men ruled and women were a subordinate class.”

She knew this had to be true. It fitted his behavior.

Thomas was speaking silently to himself: I am Thomas. I am Thomas. I am Thomas . . .

The strange thing about this inner chant which he had adopted as his personal litany was that it increased his sensitivity to doubts. Could it be something built into the name?

Waela no longer trusts me . . . if she ever did.

What is this poet and where is he? Processing was taking an unconscionably long time with him. Will he be an arm of Ship?

Why were they getting a poet on their team? It had to be a clue to Ship’s plans. Obscure, perhaps . . . convoluted . . . but a clue. This might be the element of the deadly game which he was required to discover for himself.

How much time do we have?

Ship did not always play the game by rules that were just and fair.

You’re not always fair, are You, Ship?

If you mean even-handed, yes, l am fair. The answer surprised Thomas. He had not expected Ship to respond while he walked along this corridor.

Thomas glanced at Waela—silent woman. Her color had returned to its normal pale pink. Did Ship ever talk to her?

I talk to her quite often, Devil. She calls me Honesty.

Thomas missed a step in surprise.

Does she know it’s You?

She is not conscious of that, no.

Do You talk to others without their knowing?

Too many, very many.

Thomas and Waela turned a comer into another portless passage, this one illuminated by the pale blue of overhead strip lighting—the color code which told them that it led outside somewhere up ahead. He glanced at Waela’s hip, saw the ever-present lasgun in its holster there.

Waela broke the silence. “Those new clones that Oakes says are being used out on Dragon—what do you suppose they are?”

“People with faster responses.”

“I don’t trust that Lewis.”

Thomas found himself in agreement. Lewis remained a mystery figure—the brutal alter-ego to Oakes? There were stories about Lewis which suggested that Ship had held nothing back when lifting the lid of Pandora’s box.

They had come to the hatch into the hangar. Thomas hesitated before signaling the dogwatch to admit them. He glanced through the transparent port, saw that the sky doors of the hangar were closed. There should be little delay.

“What’s eating you, Waela?”

She met his gaze. “I’ve been wondering if there’s anyone I can trust.”

Pandora’s curse, he thought, and chose to direct her suspicions at Oakes.

“Why don’t we insist on an inspection team to explore everything Oakes is doing?”

“Do you think they’d let us?”

“It’s worth finding out.”

“I’ll suggest it to Rachel when I see her.”