“The discards from the Scream Room, the injured and the others we just can’t support. Food’s getting very short. I put all of them outside.”

Oakes nodded. Clones thrown out of the Redoubt were, of course, condemned to death. Quick and efficient disposal by Pandora’s demons . . . unless they had the misfortune to encounter Nerve Runners or a Spinneret. Messy business.

Lewis took another deep swallow of the wine, then: “We didn’t realize that the area had become infested with Nerve Runners.”

Oakes shuddered. To him, Nerve Runners were the ultimate Pandoran horror. He could imagine the darting, threadlike creatures clinging to his flesh, savaging his nerves, invading his eyes, worming their ravenous way through to his brain. The long agony of such an attack was well known groundside and the stories had made the rounds shipside. Everything Pandoran feared the Runners except, perhaps, the kelp. They seemed immune.

When he could control his voice, Oakes asked: “What happened?”

“The clones raised the usual fuss when we put them outside. They know what it’s like out there, of course. I suppose we didn’t pay as close attention as we should. Suddenly, they were screaming, ‘Nerve Runners!’”

“Your people buttoned down, of course.”

“Everything shut up tight while we tried to spot the boil.”

“So?”

Lewis stared at the bottle in his hands, took a deep breath.

Oakes waited. Nerve Runners were horrible, yes—it took three or four minutes for them to do what other demons did in a few eyeblinks. Same result, though.

Lewis sighed, took another swallow of the wine. He appeared calmer, as though Oakes’ presence told him that he really was safe at last.

“They attacked the Redoubt,” Lewis said.

“Nerve Runners?”

“The clones.”

“Attacked? But what weapons . . .”

“Stones, their own bodies. Some of them smashed the sewage baffle before we could stop them. Two clones got inside that way. They were infected by then.”

“Nerve Runners in the Redoubt?”

Oakes stared at Lewis in horror. “What did you do?”

“There was a wild scramble. Our mop-up crew, mostly E-clones, locked themselves in the Aquaculture Lab but Runners were in the water lines by then. The lab’s a shambles. No survivors there. I sealed myself in a Command room with fifteen aides. We were clean.”

“How many did we lose?”

“Most of our effectives.”

“Clones?”

“Almost all gone.”

Oakes grimaced. “Why didn’t you report, ask for help?” He tapped the pellet at his neck.

Lewis shook his head. “I tried. I got static or silence, then someone else trying to talk to me, trying to put pictures in my head.”

Pictures in his head!

That was a good description of what Oakes had experienced. Their safe little secret communications channel had been penetrated! Who?

He voiced the question.

Lewis shrugged. “I’m still trying to find out.”

Oakes put a hand over his own mouth. The ship? Yes, the damned ship was interfering!