The printer finished producing the Oakes bio. She folded it, crossed to the mandala looking for a place to conceal the thick wad of Shipscript. The mandala was fixed solidly to the bulkhead. She turned and glanced around the cubby. Where to hide this?

Do I need to hide it?

Yes. Until the right moment

The divan? She crossed to the divan and knelt beside it. The thing was fixed to the deck by bolts. Could she call a serviceman? No . . . she didn’t dare let anyone suspect what she was doing. Gritting her teeth, she put two fingers on a bolt and twisted. The bolt turned.

Strength has its purposes!

The bolts removed, she lifted the end of the divan. My! It was heavy. She doubted that three men could lift it. She slipped the text under the divan, restored the bolts, twisting them tight.

Now for something juicy about Win Ferry.

She stood up and returned to the console. Ferry gave her no difficulty either. He practiced no discretion whatsoever.

Poor old fool! I’m going to destroy Oakes for you, Win.

No! Don’t trick yourself into nobility. You’re doing it on your own and for yourself. Let’s keep love and the glory of others out of it.

Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Remember that I have power; you believe yourself miserable, but I can make you so wretched that the light of day will be hateful to you. You are my creator, but I am your master.

—Frankenstein’s Monster Speaks, Shiprecords

OAKES WOKE out of his first sound sleep groundside to muffled pounding outside his cubby.

His fingers reached his com-console before he was even awake and the viewscreen showed complete madness up and down Colony’s corridors.

Even outside his own locked hatchway!

“I’m hungry now! I’m hungry now! I’m hungry now!”

The chant was a snarl in the throat of the night.

There were no guns in evidence, but plenty of rocks.

In a matter of blinks, Lewis was on the line.

“Morgan, we’ve lost them for now. This thing will have to run its course until . . .”

“What the hell is happening?” Oakes did not like it that his voice cracked.

“It started out as a round of The Game down in the ‘ponicsways. Lots of drinking. Now it’s a food riot. We can flood ’em out with . . .”

“Wait a minute! Are the perimeters still secure?”

“Yes. My people are out there.”

“Then why . . .”

“Water in the passages will slow ’em down until we . . .”

“No!” Oakes took a deep breath. “You’re out of your league, Jesus. What we’ll do is let them go. If they seize food, then it’ll be their responsibility when food gets even shorter. The supply does not change, you hear me? No extra food!”

“But they’re running wild through . . .”