"Rather, it's your bad luck that I'm interested in dwarves. I know where every dwarf in the Admiralty is right now. There are twelve. Ten are in the Navy. One is eighteen years old. He'll be a Petty soon. Sectry already is. The rest are Guardians. There's a Dark diver's boy, but his brain was thick with spores before he could grow a beard. And there's you."

"And another pressure suit."

"Yes. I want it."

Rather wiped sweat from his face. He was thinking as carefully as if he were innocent. The trick was not to know anything he shouldn't. This seemed safe: "Captain Guardian, if a pressure suit got into the Admiralty without you knowing it, maybe there was a dwarf in it."

Mickl didn't answer. Rather said, "S- the Bosun and I are about the same size, but I think you're bigger. How big was that fourth suit? Would I even fit?" He was stuttering a little; he had to think every word through first. How clearly had Mickl seen the silver suit? It always looked bigger than the occupant. "Maybe it's smaller yet. Maybe it's so small that it'll fit in places you wouldn't look, a closet in a happyfeet ship-"

"Why that?"

"Happyfeet tried to rob us before we got here. They don't care much about laws. Isn't there a Lupoff ship in dock?"

"True enough, but a closet is silly. He'd suffocate."

"Somewhere else, then." There's air in the silver suit. Am I supposed to know that? What else am I not supposed to know? "What really happened? What is it you think I did?"

"You entered Headquarters in an unregistered pressure suit painted like mine. You got into the Library. You got rid of the Guardian. We haven't been able to find out what you did there, or whether you got what you wanted, but Voice was running when you left. When I came in you scattered sporing fringe throughout Headquarters and got away." Mickl's throat worked, and Rather saw how close he was to uncontrolled rage. "I went after you. I couldn't catch you."

"Um . . . that doesn't make sense. Booce told me never to try to outfly Navy. The wings are different-"

Mickl slashed the air with his arm. "The suit outflow me! This isn't just another pressure suit. You'd be in enough trouble if it was only that. We've got to have this suit. It's special."

"How?"

"Classified, you little fungus!" Wayne Mickl closed his eyes. He pulled air in through his nose until his lungs were full, then let it all out. Calmly he said, "Booce, show me this hiding place."

Booce showed him. We wouldn't have been told this either, Rather thought. Secrets!

Mickl closed his helmet. When he peered into the compartment, light blazed from the forehead. He studied the interior at length. "Ingenious."

"Maybe not. It weakened the door." Booce pointed out the hole. Mickl nodded.