This thought dominated her awareness as she and Thomas approached the bustle of early dayside activity around the new sub he was having rushed to completion.

Thomas worried her. One blink he seemed like a nice-enough fellow; the next . . . what? His mind appeared to wander.

He hasn’t been out of hyb long enough to handle himself here.

They stopped a few meters from the work perimeter and she stared at what was taking shape under the brilliant lights. All this energy—all those workers. They were like insects intent on a giant egg. She tried to fathom the sense of this thing. It did make a certain sense . . . but a transparent core of plaz? They had always used plasma glass in the subs, but this detachable core constructed entirely of plaz was a new concept. She could see that it was going to be crowded in there and didn’t know if she would like that.

Why Thomas? Why did they put him in charge?

She recalled their walk across the compound and into the LTA hangar. He had been too busy giving orders to her for him to see the telltale shadow-flicker of a Hooded Dasher breaking past the sentries. She had cooked it in mid-leap with a hipshot from her lasgun—and immediately began to shiver when she realized that she had almost left the weapon in her cubby. This perimeter was supposed to be secure, the sentries the best.

Thomas had barely noticed.

“Quick little devils,” he said, calmly. “By the way, there’s a poet coming onto our team from Ship.”

“A poet? But we need. . . .”

“We will get a poet because Ship is sending us a poet.”

“But we asked for . . .”

“I know what we asked for!”

He sounded like a man suppressing his own misgivings.

She said: “Well, we still need a systems engineer for . . .”

“I want you to seduce this poet.”

She had trouble believing what she had heard.

Thomas said: “Your skin’s a regular rainbow when you get upset. Just consider this a team assignment. I’ve seen a holo of the poet. He’s not unattractive in . . .”

“My body is my own!” She glared at him. “And nobody—not you, not Oakes, not Ship, tells me who I will or will not let into my body.”

They were stopped in the compound by then and she was surprised to see his hands up and a grin on his face. She realized that she had instinctively raised her lasgun to focus between his eyes. Without reducing her furious glare, she lowered the gun and holstered it.

“Sorry,” he said. And they resumed their walk toward the hangar. Presently, he asked: “How important is the kelp team to you?”

He should know that! Everyone knew, and since Thomas had been groundside he had shown an amazing ability to seek out critical information.

“It’s everything to me.”