EMPTY BARRELS [Novelette], Steven E. McDonald

I was half-aware of the communicator, hearing my name called over and over. I couldn't rouse myself enough to answer it; I'd had a hard day, with a mineshaft collapse to see to and five people to rescue and a pilot to talk down.

I turned over as the voice slopped for a few moments. I would have gone right back to sleep, but ...

My pile of bedsheets and blankets were whipped off, and I was promptly tossed out of bed, and to the floor. I woke up then, but I was still groggy. ! got to my knees and started, "Cin, that was - " and stopped. Cinnamon was in her own apartment. That meant I'd been dumped by a telekinetic.

1 reached up and thumbed the on switch on the communicator.

"Whoever you are, that was a lousy trick. What's the time?"

"Three-thirty," the com said. "This is Fernando in the Tower, Kenzie. We need you up here."

I got up, aching. Stiff as a board, as usual. I'd been alerted before six the morning before, and hadn't gotten back to bed until after twelve. I started calisthenics lo loosen up.

"What's the trouble?" I asked.

"Problem in orbit," Fernando said. I looked at the communicator, frowning. I didn't like the sound of his voice: He was scared about something.

"Get a trained controller." I said.

"I'm trained. We need someone with charm, diplomacy, and a nice voice."

"Call Ching," i said, as I grabbed my bodysuit from the floor and started pulling it on.

"Ching's charming?" Fernando paused, and I sealed the seam of the suit, checking the heaters. "No more jokes, Kenzie. Jo left a note for me to call you if I thought it was necessary. We've got a cruiser from New Stock-bridge sitting over us."

I stopped dead, reaching for my furs.

"You're kidding, Fernando." I should have known something else would have to happen. First, the mines, then Ayna Parris's ship. Now this. No wonder Fernando was scared.

"I'm not." He was silent for a moment as I grabbed my furs and started pulling them on. "Kenzie, I'm worried. They won't tell me anything."

"I'm on my way," I said. "Ten minutes."

I switched the communicator off and finished pulling on my furs as I went to the door. Then I was outside and heading at a run for the skimmer garages. A minute later, I was on my way to Bertha's Tit, at top speed.

As worried as hell.

Fernando was waiting for me on the Tit Tower elevator landing. His telekinetic had been at work again; the elevator hadn't waited for me to push buttons, but had started to move the second I was inside.

"Situation?" I said, as I came out of the cage.

"Unchanged." He moved up to my side and we ducked into the Tower control room together. We stopped in the center of the room while I stripped off one layer of fur.

Fernando pointed to a bank of screens over on console. "That's them. Coming in from number three."

"Uh-huh." Number three was one of our trio of comsats, sitting in a Clarke orbit around the other side of Snowball.

I trotted over to the screens. One of them held a slightly fuzzy view of the New Stockbridge cruiser, tubular and functionally ugly. It wasn't a lander.

I turned slightly and tossed the furs over the back of a chair. "Okay, what the hell's going on?"

"It's to do with our girl." I looked around, sharply, at him. I'd had to talk 'our girl' - Ayna Parris - down, earlier in the day. She'd been too tired to answer questions at the time. "From what they'll let me have, she's some kind of escaped criminal."

"She stole the ship she was flying," I pointed out. That much I'd gotten from the lady herself; it was most of the reason she had to be talked in.

Fernando nodded. "According to them it's a special Government prototype. They want it back."

I looked back at the New Stockbridge ship. "Let 'em build another. I can't see any reason why they'd chase her all the way here." I stepped back from the console and glanced around at other consoles. Most of the sensor and radar screens were lit, getting more use in one day than they'd had in the previous year. "They give any sort of reason?"

Fernando looked away from me and sighed. He was one of our older people - most of the people on Snowball are in their late teens, or not much beyond, which got us nicknamed Teenies' by assorted idiots who thought we were either kidding or stupid - in his early forties, and presently looking much older.

I could see why he was scared. A lot of us had been badly treated by Governments in our time, but Fernando had had it the worst. From New Stockbridge.

"Just 'information that cannot be disclosed'," he said, with a trace of anger. "Two things, in short. They want the ship and the girl given to them, or they'll come and get them. The other is that they want to speak to someone with authority."

I chewed my lower lip for a moment. "Sounds a bit like Lord Muck versus Lady Proper's virtue," I said, without feeling the humor in it. "Anything else?"

"The usual line about being a Federation-registered world." We weren't exactly friends with the Federation, but their system was loose enough to let us stick around without worries. Unfortunately, it also allowed New Stockbridge to stay around, and that was going to be a nuisance. "They said we're harboring a dangerous criminal and under colony law, etcetera."

I sat down, shaking my head. "You tell them we're a declared full world?"

"They won't take it. Stubborn bastards."

I swung my chair to look at Fernando. He was pacing up and down.

"They still can't go throwing their weight around."

He stopped pacing and looked at me, grim. "Lay odds, Kenzie? They can claim we attacked them while they were in the process of upholding the law. We can't argue if we're nuked."

I turned away from him again, gritting my teeth, glaring out of one of the control room windows at the moonlit ice plains below. From the other side of the tower I would be able to see all the way back to the city. Number Two Son, our biggest moon, was up.

"Goddamn New Stockbridge," I muttered. "They won't be bluffing, either, will they?"

Fernando didn't answer. He knew New Stockbridge much better than I did; it gave him nightmares. The planet was a thorn in just about everyone's side. They insisted on keeping ready for a war, despite Federation insistence that it wasn't necessary. The Feds couldn't do anything about it - to try and stop it might just spark a war, with half the known galaxy on one side, and the other half backing the other. The neutrals would be caught in between. The Federation would need a damned good reason first.

Fernando was on Snowball because, like the rest of us, he was a mutant and a misfit. New Stockbridge had wanted to find out how to add his abilities to their armories - he was a pyropsychic, someone who could start fires and set off explosions by simply thinking about it. Some of the things they can do to a man's mind are terrifying;

Fernando had barely escaped with a shred of sanity.

Twenty years later we found him in the asteroid colonies at Fomalhaut, an alcoholic wreck. A few more months and someone would have dumped him out of an airlock, without a suit.

And now, his devils were back, hanging over his head.

"You want to let someone else take over?" I asked, without looking around.

"I'll get by," he said.

I nodded, watching my dim reflection in the glass. "Fine."

As far as I could tell, we had a two-part choice. Give up the girl and hope New Stockbridge would leave us in peace. They might do, but if they had any idea of what we could do, they would try their best to cash in on it. The other part: Refuse to hand her over, and see what happened then. They could bomb us to soften us up, bomb us out completely, or drop troops. Troops we might be able to handle for a while. Bombs were another matter; we'd have no chance.

Simple enough. Do or die.

I said, "They aren't getting the girl."

That's exactly how simple.

Fernando said. "You could wait for a vote." He wasn't trying very hard to convince me.

"No. I'm after some time, first. I think a lot of people would agree with me."

"It's suicide, Kenzie."

I sighed and shrugged. "Might be if you don't try. I want to know what they're playing at up there." I swung my chair around again. "Besides, I've got the authority, which is why you called me."

Fernando nodded. "Your game. Want me to put you through now? They're waiting for your authority." He almost managed a grin. "I'll go join the others when you're through."

I shook my head. "Stick around."

While he went through the link-up procedure with the New Stockbridge ship's com officer, I watched the screens. Definitely a light cruiser, probably fully-armed with a wide range of weaponry. Lasers through fusion bombs, possibly even cobalt bombs at that. They'd have to use troop carriers for surface works, but they probably wouldn't bother. Just a few fast muscle-flexes and we would go under.

"Get ready," Fernando said, as he turned from his console. "You'll be talking to Lieutenant Commander Belinski, addressed as Lieutenant. You won't like it."

"Why not?" He shook his head and flipped a switch, lighting up a section of the console I was sitting at. He said something into his own mike, then nodded at me.

"Lieutenant Commander Belinski for Kenzie Goodall of Snowball," an icy, smooth, female voice said, sharply. Contralto, making me think of coquettes, then of Cinnamon, then of Ching. I didn't have any idea why. This voice would have made a Snowman shiver. Authority, cold, and backed up by Power.

It scared the hell out of me.

I said, "This is Kenzie Goodall speaking."

"What authority do you represent?" Click-clack. Inhuman in style. I disliked this lady intensely.

"Snowball in toto," I said.

"I would prefer to speak with your chief elected official."

"Our chief elected official is presently indisposed and cannot deal with this matter," I said, stiffly.

"Why not?"

So it was going to be that type of conversation. The Voice of Authority scolding the kids who went playing in the wrong garden. As it was, I would have gladly handed the problem to Deke Rozakis, but this sort of thing was supposed to be part of my job.

"His wife," I said, "is in need of servicing."

"What are you talking about?"

Scratch one sarcastic remark and dump the rest. "What I'm trying to point out is that I'm empowered to deal with, this, your complaint or whatever it is. That was why I was dragged out of bed at this stupid time in the morning." Literally dragged.

I was beginning to get twitches in the region of my stomach. Nerves. I looked at Fernando, and he looked away.

"That is not important, Goodall," Belinski snapped. "This matter is. It is of the utmost importance, and I suggest that you pay attention and cooperate. You are harboring an escaped convict."

That I'd heard before. "What was she convicted of?"

A few seconds of silence, with the sizzle of FM static. Then: "We have already explained to your Tower man that we are not empowered to discuss the matter with you."

I scowled at the board and considered that for a moment. Time for a lie. "Then you're stuck. Ms. Parris has requested, and been granted, asylum. She's now considered part of Snowball. And we, just to make it clear, are protected as such under Federation edict. Unless we know what she's wanted - "

"She stole the ship she came here in."

Almost my words. So far, one lie, one bluff. Time to get droll about it.

"Do you have proof of that?" I asked.

"We are not empowered -

"In that case, you've got nothing to give us for extradition proceedings. In short, no case and no authority to request us to hand her over. And you've definitely no authority to stay in orbit around Snowball, seeing as you've just been refused the right."

Silence again, for a long minute.

"We have authority as a Full World under Federation law. You have not been granted that status."

"Nor have we been refused it," I said. "Under Federation law, we're a probationary Full World, with the rights and powers of one, until the matter is decided on Sarum."

Silence again, then, harshly: "I am in command of a fully-armed warship. If this stupidness does not cease, and we do not receive custody of both the woman and the ship within thirty standard hours, we will take her by force. If we cause damage, it is your fault, not ours."

That was that. All bluffs called, all the hands played. That was New Stockbridge's way; never play with loaded guns - but it gave me a sudden idea.

I looked around at Fernando. He shook his head, watching me. He didn't want me to give in.

Poor Fernando. "In that case, Madame Belinski," I said, turning back to the board, "send an experienced pilot down to pick up your little playtoy, and one other man with him to take back your own boat. Any more than that and we'll take it as a sign of aggression and we'll have to talk about two ships."

"I very much doubt that. Also, I do not find your bravado amusing. We will prepare. You will do likewise."

I felt like saluting the board, but grinned instead. The butterflies were still in my stomach, but the ideas were coming together. They didn't make much sense yet, though.

"Tell your men they'll be making a night landing and takeoff on solid ice. We don't have a proper landing strip yet." I looked around at Fernando. He stared back at me, coming to the disbelieving realization of what I was doing. "If they come in too fast, we'll catch 'em."

"Our pilots are expert enough, Mr. Goodall." I was surprised. Her voice had warmed up slightly now that the scolding was done with.

"That's nice to hear," I said. "The other man will have to take off again right away. We don't have a spare hangar, and your boat'll probably freeze solid after a couple of hours on the ice. Gets pretty cold down here at night. We'll put your other man up in the city while we wrap up proceedings."

"I trust our prisoner will be ready."

"I'll handle it myself. Give me a couple of hours. You'll be able to go right back home tomorrow, as soon as your man checks out the ship and gives a go-ahead. You've got everything needed to check it over?"

"We have." No give-away there. I couldn't tell if I'd made any impression.

"That's it, then. Sorry to be troublesome."

"Good. Good-bye." That actually sounded human.

I cut the channel from my console and swung my seat around to look at Fernando. He was staring at me, still, shaking his head, his mouth open. Shock.

"Kenzie ...?"

I shrugged. "Changed my mind. Decided I didn't want to be bombed out. I'm only human, Ferdie. Cowardly, but human."

He allowed consternation to show before he could do anything about it. "I don't understand you. One minute you're ready to hang on until they shoot and the next you're turning into a Judas." The words came out too rapidly.

"There's a little of it in everyone." I stood and picked up my furs, pulling them on. "I'm going back to the city. I've got things to do. Turn the beacon on and call me when they get here."

He came to his feet, striding toward me, a finger aimed at my nose, shaking. "Just a second, you -

"Call me Kenzie, I prefer it."

He stopped, a few meters in front of me. "I don't give a damn\ You just can't give in like that!"

"I just did. Look, what do we do? Throw sugar cookies at 'em? I'm in control here, Ferdie, Deke notwithstanding. It's done."

"I won't be party to it. They'll kill her, Kenzie, that's what they want her for. I know them! You know what they did to me!" He was cracking. I got ready to hit him with a knockout belt to his conscious area, but stopped myself from delivering it when he took a deep breath, appearing to regain control. "If you walk out of here, I'm going too. That's it. And the rest will go with me."

"Turn the beacon on and shut your mouth," I said. "Please?"

'No!" he yelled. His face was reddening.

I got ready again. "Turn the bloody beacon on," I said, warningly. "Or I'll do it for you and over you. Now."

He knew what I meant, and his face changed, in puzzlement. "You can't do it, Kenzie. It's insane."

"Do we have a choice? That's a warship up there." I pointed at the ceiling. "We don't stand a chance." I was wondering, at the same time, what would happen if Fernando cracked. One blast and I would be ash.

"So let them have the ship." His voice had taken on a pleading tone. "Just don't give them the girl. It'd be murder, Kenzie. I know it would. So do you, I'm sure you do."

I waited him out for a few moments, then sighed. "Just turn the beacon on and quit bitching. Otherwise we're going to get more trouble than we've got already."

"You think they're going to leave us alone after this?"

I didn't say anything. He stared at me for a moment longer, then sighed and went to another console. I relaxed. He hesitated for a moment, then, flicked a series of switches. Then he leaned on the console, and looked back at me.

"You bastard," he muttered.

"Heigh-ho for the society," I said. "Just don't panic. There's a lot to lose on our side." I started for the door, then turned, looking backwards. "Think about that, Ferdie."

The door opened and I stepped onto the elevator platform.

"Kenzie?"

I caught the door as it started to close. "Yeah?"

"You're planning something."

I grinned and raised an eyebrow. "Planning?"

He stood up from the console. "You've got that look about you."

"I might be. You never know."

I stepped back and let the door close before he could say anything else.

I drove around on the ice for thirty minutes, trying to formulate something from the few hazy ideas I had. I could have tried to stall for time directly, but I'd been thinking that Belinski wouldn't have bought the ploy right then.

The few ideas I had were typically wild, and more than a little frightening. And they were only stalling devices; we could take the thirty hours just planning, and all 1 had was an empty head.

It didn't take long to narrow things down to a conclusion. I needed extra brainpower. I couldn't take this outside of a small group either - panic was a possibility, even on Snowball - and if I took it to Deke, it would simply waste time. He'd only been elected colony chief because he bitched about other chiefs all the time. His main job was watching paperwork shuffling back and forth.

Point one was that we couldn't let Belinski have Ayna Parris; Fernando had been right about my knowing that the only reason New Stockbridge would send a ship after someone like Ayna was to kill her. So she might know something, and that started an unsettling train of thought. If she was supposed to know something, then we might know what she knew, according to New Stockbridge's lights, and that meant we'd have to be controlled too. Which meant that we'd have to come full circle again: To Ayna. Nobody steals a ship they know nothing about - and talking her down had proven that well enough - unless they're running from something. And I'd heard the fear in her voice when she was coming in. There's something that draws you close to somebody else scared, after you get to know the feeling. And I knew it, too well.

New Stockbridge was welcome to the ship, if that was the main cause of our troubles.

Decision made. Stand and fight, if possible. There had to be a way to do it.

I tapped out Cinnamon's personal code on the snow skimmer's com panel. The lady would be mighty unhappy, but that was too bad. I needed her help. And some coffee.

"Shake your feathers, girlie," I said. "This is your morning wake-up call."

"It's just after four, Kenzie," Cinnamon's sleepy voice said, a moment later.

"I know. Out of bed. We've got a problem."

"Can I go back to sleep and let you tell me later?"

"Sorry love."

"Thank you."

"I didn't say you could go back to sleep, Cin," I said, quickly. "We're in trouble and I need some help. Otherwise we'll probably get blown to bits."

"You've been around Ching again. That sounds like a line -

"I have not been around Ching," I said sharply. "I'm on my way back from the Tit. There's a cruiser from New Stockbridge over our heads, issuing threats and demands. They've come for Ayna Parris and her stolen ship."

"What do I have to do?" she asked, suddenly sounding wide awake.

"Get dressed, get coffee ready, then call whoever's looking after the lady. Wake her up, scream her if you have to." That was Cinnamon's talent; she was something of a telesend - but her main sending was much too loud. She could also set up a mental static field. Irritated most telepaths she came into contact with when she arrived on Snowball. "Get hold of Candi and Mitch and tell 'em to get ready for a monitoring session on the Parris lady. I want some decent answers. I'll reach you in five minutes or so." I swung the skimmer around to head at the city.

"What time did they get you out of bed?"

"Three-thirty. No chance for coffee. That's why I want some. While you're at it, try and think up a method for beating a light cruiser without weapons."

"That's easy. We can't."

"That's what I thought. Somebody is going to hate me after all this. Out."

I pushed the accelerator pedal all the way down.

There was an idea nagging at me when I reached Cinnamon's apartment, but I couldn't get a grip on it, although it had been nagging since I'd parked the skimmer. I'd probably get a grip on it if I ignored it for a while, which was a problem. It was hard.

I grabbed hold of Cinnamon, who'd jumped into a flight suit for some reason, ruffled her red hair, kissed her, and bear-hugged her through my furs.

"You weren't thinking about what you were doing," she complained.

"My problem," I said, "and thinking about it." I was sure that the rough plan I'd sketched out wasn't quite right.

She pouted. "You could have put it aside for fifteen seconds."

"Won't stay put, not even for you." I glanced around. Everything in place, strewn about. We might be without luxuries, but some of us could make homes out of caves simply by dropping things around. "Coffee, lover, then off to work."

Cinnamon nodded and brushed hair out of her eyes as she went into the kitchenette. She came back with a coffeepot and two cups. Our coffee was homegrown, from a hybrid plant brought with us. It was one of the few things that could survive on Snowball proper, apart from Snowball's own flora and fauna. We had a few animals, plus hydroponics, and no more funds. And until we got some, we couldn't buy the biological material we needed to form other hybrids. The coffee itself was grown down in disused mine tunnels, and it thrived happily with decent lighting. It had been one of those tunnels that had come down, killing a technician and trapping another five. My job had been to rush telekinetics there to get rid of rubble and to shore the tunnel up until we could pull the trapped people out. Easy enough, but exhausting.

Cinnamon handed me a cup, then perched herself on the edge of a table, looking at me for a few moments.

"Okay," she said. "Explain it. You look worried half to death and being funny doesn't help at all."

I nodded, sipped the coffee, and explained things in as few words as I could. In between questions I finished the coffee. When the words tuckered out, she nodded.

"You're in the sticky. You give up Ayna and the ship, and we may still have to deal with New Stockbridge. Do a turnaround, and you get us all killed."

"Essentially that. I'm hoping to be able to play for some time to work up a good idea. Hopefully, they won't bomb us out of spite ..."

"How? They've got all the weapons."

"We've got charm." I smiled. "Haven't we?"

Her face creased into a wry smile. "I recognize that tone, Kenzie Good-all. What are you thinking up for me to do?"

I told her. By the time I finished, she almost had a stitch from laughing.

"That's insane," she said, when she sobered up.

"But effective. I hope." I handed her my cup. "Refill, then to work! We don't have much time before the Stockbridge folks land."

She took the cup and refilled it, shaking her head and snorting. As she handed it back, she said, "I sent Candi to fetch Mitch. She woke Mitch up, so

I didn't have to scream. They should be in Deke's office by now."

I drained the cup, quickly. "Good enough. Let's go."

We got.

We took one of the corridors that connect the various bubbles that make up the city's surface level. It was the shortest route to Deke's office - that was the best place, as Cinnamon had realized it seemed, for an interview.

There wasn't much in the way of traffic at this time in the morning. We only passed one other person, one of the cleaning staff, and he didn't notice us, having his attention on a mini-viewer, watching something he found interesting in Ching's TV programming, although I couldn't think of anything that would require that much attention.

In the meantime, he was continuing his work, absently. A few meters behind him, a mop slopped from side to side, its bucket following its progress obediently, jerking along from time to time. Soap-sponges worked on the walls, drying sponges trailing them, while a cloth dusted the light panels in the ceiling, hopping from one to the next as we passed under it. It was spectacular enough, but all perfectly normal. However, I never ceased to be fascinated by it. In comparison, my own mind-blast ability was like a sledgehammer against a surgical microlaser.

Our two telepaths and our visitor were waiting for us in the office. Candi had propped her two-meter-ten-centimeter frame on the edge of Deke's battered desk - like most furniture in the city, it had been bought secondhand, for a low price - her frizzy black hair looking more than usually rumpled. Mitch, short for Miche-lina, was sitting in Deke's swivel chair, her feet up on the desk, barely reaching.

Ayna Parris sat, slumped, in one of the office chairs. As we walked in, she half-stood, and turned. She wasn't much taller than Mitch, probably around one meter sixty-five, black, with some oriental traces - especially denoted in her long, sleek, black hair. She was pretty - cute, even - but tired. Hell of a time to wake anybody up.

"Morning, Ayna," I said, airily.

She looked at me for a moment, almost in disbelief. "Hello," she said, finally. She probably thought she was in for an interrogation, New Stock-bridge style.

Well, she wasn't too far out if so.

I grinned. "I'm the guy from Hooker-A who helped you get down in one piece." We'd had to catch her before she went off the end of the runway; for that we'd used three Hookers, souped-up skimmers that fired harpoons to drag the ship to a stop.

Ayna nodded and sucked at her lower lip, frowning for a moment.

"My name's Kenzie Goodall," I added. "This is Cinnamon, and you've already met Mitch and Candi."

"Yes."

I managed to prevent myself from tapping my foot on the flooring, with an effort. "You're a bundle of bloody trouble, m'love."

She started sniffing then, and her face wound up.

"But nothing we can't solve one way or another," I said, hastily. I looked at Mitch and jerked my head. "Ass out of that seat, youth, before I schedule a snow-roll for you. Get some coffee and something to eat for all of us."

"Yes sir, as you order, demand, command, etcetera." She swung up out of the chair, went around the desk, stopping briefly to glare defiantly up at Candi, who looked silently back down at her, then stalked past me, and out.

"You offended her dignity again," Candi said, her normally deep-throated voice ringing with amusement.

"I'll offend more than her dignity one of these days." I walked across the office and hefted a chair, carrying it back to the desk, placing it so I had a view of both Ayna and Candi. "Cin, you take Deke's seat and put your feet up. Candi, you link with Mitch and let her know the salient details, whatever, while she's sorting things."

Ayna had stopped sniffing and had wound down a little by now. I watched her for a few seconds, then nodded.

"I'd like to know what you're running from," I said, "because, right now, we've got a light cruiser from New Stockbridge sitting over our heads, making threats about what they'll do if we don't hand you over to them promptly."

I ran off the story in essentially the same detail as I'd given it to Cinnamon. Candi's eyebrows rose a couple of times, and she winced, painfully, a few times. This sort of situation plays hell with telepaths, especially when emotions run high - fear and depression being the worst two. From what I could see, Candi was getting both in liberal quantities.

Ayna was crumbling visibly, con-trolwise, by the time I finished, and the tears were streaming freely.

Right on cue, Mitch turned up with the coffee and food. I waved to Cinnamon, pointed at Ayna with my thumb, got a nod, grabbed a sandwich and.a cup of coffee, and jerked my head for Candi to follow me outside. She trailed after me as soon as she'd picked up a cup and a sandwich.

As soon as the door closed, I said, "What's your opinion so far?"

Candi's dark face creased in thought. "I'd say she was damn near scared to death. I got some flashes, but they were pretty confused."

I nodded. "Uh-huh. Anything you can trace for sure?"

She closed her eyes for a moment. "Something or someone trying to hurt ... no, trying to kill her. Absolute panic. I don't think she thought about which ship she was running off with."

"I knew that already." I sipped the coffee. Red hot. "Mitch getting anything?"

Candi shook her head. "Too confused right now. Cinnamon's trying to calm her."

"Anything as to why they bothered to chase her so far? The ship's one thing, but she seems to be just a mixed up lady who ran off with the wrong craft. I don't understand why they want her as well, or why they'd risk an incident like this to get her."

Candi bit into her sandwich, thoughtfully, then slowly nodded. "Her family keeps coming up, with extreme despair. Not worry. That's the strange thing. I'd have thought she would be worried about her family."

"Could be why she's running."

"I think it is. If they tried to kill her, it could mean they've already killed her family, or part of it."

I twisted my face around a bit, thinking about it. "From what I know about New Stockbridge, it's probable."

Candi nodded. "If they killed her family for some reason, it could mean she knows something that could hurt them. Or possibly something about the ship."

"Or that's what they think. I don't know, Candi. It still seems pointless to me. ..." I looked at my sandwich, then took a chunk from it. Lettuce and tomato. Mitch must have made them from whatever was at hand. No salt and pepper. "What about war?"

Candi gave me a puzzled look. "You think New Stockbridge is planning a war? It isn't reasonable, Ken. Too much trouble. They might as well settle a new system - there are plenty of empty planets around."

"Don't talk about reason in the same sentence as humanity, sweetheart." I gave the idea some thought. "The thing that bugs me is that you're right. It would be too much trouble to start a fight over planets ... I don't know. How's Ayna?"

"Getting calmer. Cinnamon's doing all right. And Mitch is doing her funny act, breaking through." She smiled. "She's even doing something new, dammit."

I nodded. We stood in silence for a half-minute, thinking hard.

Then we both stopped in mid-sip of coffee, and looked at each other. Candi's eyes seemed as surprised as mine felt.

I spluttered, choking for a moment. Then we both said it together.

"Federation!"

I nearly dropped my cup. "Oh my God," I wheezed.

Candi took a deep breath. "Another wild idea, Kenzie."

I shook my head. "I don't know. What would New Stockbridge gain from crippling the Federation at the center? If they knocked out both Sira and Sarum?"

Candi's face creased as she thought about it. "Power?"

I shook my head. "Not necessarily, Candi. They don't have to take over Sira and Sarum. Just hit both places hard enough to wipe out everything. Nothing subtle. That cuts off Federation protection across the whole system. The Fed ships wouldn't have a chance without warnings or reinforcements, or supplies. Also, it cuts lines of communication. There'd be no organized resistance to a takeover by New Stockbridge - in fact, half the places probably wouldn't realize they were being taken over until it was done with." I took a deep breath. "They don't even have to do the job all in one shot. All they'd have to do is move in on each system, make the takeover, add to the fleet, move on to the next one. If they don't hit the Feds first, they'll start a full-scale war in this arm. All it'd take is one ship to get to the Feds on Sira or Sarum. Lines of communication, remember? It's that* or have a Fed fleet plus half the known galaxy kicking New Stockbridge around."

Candi looked horrified and pained, probably at the images my mind was conjuring up, if she was monitoring still. "If that's what they're up to, then Ayna must have been involved with it in some way."

I shook my head again. "I don't know about that. Somebody in her family, yes. Probably someone who didn't like the idea and wanted to get it out. If he got caught with the proof in hand, that'd be plenty of reason to do a knockout job on the whole family, on the off chance, involvement or no."

"Which means we don't have proof to show to the Federation people."

I pointed at the ceiling, and, automatically, she looked up, her hair falling past her broad shoulders with a rustle.

"Yes we do," I said.

"No we don't," she said, looking back down at me. "How do you propose to capture a light cruiser with ten passenger ships, a cargo barge, and a ship you know nothing about?" Candi had just summed up our total fleet and, silently, spelled out the fact that it wasn't much good against the cruiser.

I gave her my sneaky-candidate smile and winked. "Where there's a will there's a winner, Candi."

She nodded, ruefully. "And empty barrels make the most noise, Kenzie."

"It's race memory, sweets, just race memory. You're hearing jungle drums again." I drained my cup and waved at the door. "Back to work, beautiful."

"Flatterer, flatterer." Then she surprised me by bending down, gracefully, from her Valhallan height, and planting a motherly kiss on my forehead. "Thank you."

I raised an eyebrow. "Don't let Cinnamon catch you. I don't want her beaten to a pulp just yet,"

I touched the doorswitch and gave her backside a hefty whack as the door opened. I followed her inside and waved my coffee cup in Mitch's direction. "More of that lousy coffee, please, Mitch."

"There goes her dignity again," Candi said.

"The hell with her dignity. We've got work to do."

The interview didn't tell us anything more than we already knew, or had worked out. She hadn't known which ship she was stealing, although the instrumentation had been set up a little differently from normal. She didn't start having problems with it until she was halfway out of the system - she'd been flying manual up until then. She'd finally locked it onto course for Snowball, in a more-or-less random choice. She hadn't had much chance to sleep since then, with one thing and another, and had been almost hysterical when she reached us.

Yes, she was running from the government, and no, she didn't know why they were chasing her, and yes, her family had been murdered, one by one. That was why she was running.

Then she broke down again. End of session. And all we had were a few fragments and some wild guesses. Logical enough, but, as Candi had pointed out, the proof was out in space and would be hell to get hold of.

I told Cinnamon to look after Ayna, then to join me in the Coffeebar down in the city. Then I waved to Candi to follow me.

As we started down toward the Coffeebar, I said, "So we're still stuck for facts."

"Looks like it. We've got a little."

"Pick up anything new?" I asked.

She shook, her head. "Nothing. Just what she was thinking about at the time."

Something else had been upfront in my mind for a while. "What about the computer on the ship she swiped? From the trouble she had with navigation and landing, the computers are up to their ears in bar codes."

" 'Ears'?"

"Metaphor."

"Oh. Could be something, do you think? This man coming in - the one who will be flying the ship back ... do you think he might be carrying the release codes?"

I nodded. "I think so. Probably in his head." I kicked it around for a minute, in my head. "That's something." I explained my idea to her, as I had with Cinnamon. Candi laughed, but not so loudly, or as long.

"It could work," she said. "Just."

"Think you can amplify Cin's screamer and get enough bounce on it to jag our buddies upstairs?"

She nodded, briskly. "I can link with Mitch and Modesty. In fact, I think I can probably wake up the whole city and have them running fit to kill."

"The more noise the better."

She smiled. "Empty barrels."

"Your jungle drums again." I almost walked past the entrance to the Coffeebar. It's our substitute for alcohol distribution until we build facilities for processing the proper materials, and can grow the materials. It's a community hangdive for lonely hearts and chatty souls, nice and warm. Right now, it was empty and quiet.

"That's the whole point of jungle drums, Kenzie," Candi said, as she followed me inside. "It's a method of communicating a specific item over a distance. Electronic methods are only a better jungle drum."

"And telepathy?" I asked, as I picked up the ready-heated coffeepot.

"Another improvement, over electronics." She passed me two cups, and I filled them. "On a better scale, too. One to one, or one to many, without needing specialized equipment. You can send a happy birthday or set off a mass panic."

I lifted my coffee cup and stared over the rim of it. I had a heartening view of Candi's bust, which, naturally, was in proportion to the rest of her. "Only if the people you're trying to panic are sensitive enough."

"If it's loud enough it can be done." She swallowed her coffee in one great gulp. "It's only a matter of amplification."

"Or resonance?"

"Which brings us back to empty barrels."

"Full circle to an endless chain of nothings?" I said.

"There might be something in it, somewhere. It really depends on your interpretation, doesn't it?" She regarded me with a smugly amused look.

"If it was possible, I'd put you over my knee and paste your nether end for you," I said. "Are you trying to put it over that I'm empty-headed?"

"You're certainly noisy, Kenzie."

"Pass. Next problem?"

She started to say something, and then stared off into space for a moment.

She looked down at me, again. "That was the Tit onto Cinnamon. The New Stockbridge lander just touched down on the strip."

I checked my belt. No communicator, dammit. I finished my coffee.

"Pass it on that I'll meet her down at her place, both skimmers. The plan will have to go as it is." I put the cup back on the bar. "You'd better link with someone on the strip yourself about the drug business."

I started out of the Coffeebar, wheeling back around for a moment. "And get Mitch and Modesty ready, and anyone else you can grab. The highest bounce you can hit, and segment it if you can, amplify the pertinent emotions."

"Fear and desperation, I think," Candi said, as she poured herself another cup of coffee.

"As you see fit. As long as it's effective."

Then I was out and running for my skimmer.

A skimmer was pulling away from the New Stockbridge lander when I reached the strip. I steered to run parallel and hailed him CQ. Cinnamon would be in the passenger hall by now, waiting. She was to play hostess to whomever Belinski had sent.

"Got you, Kenzie." the skimmer driver called back. "On four."

"Channel four," I acknowledged, as I locked it in. "How's Our Guy?"

"Our Guy is fine, just headed for immunization and checkout. Will process his papers and record it."

"Got you."

"Our Guy, by the by, is named Control Corporal First Class Marcus Payge, and has full authority to take charge of both the prisoner and the ship."

"Got you again. Put him through. Their ship on turnaround?"

"As said. Lift in ten minutes. He's on routine check and taxi and he'll start from top end."

"Got you. Check?"

"Double check. Clean sweep."

Good enough. Nobody but the chickens on board, no shock troops. So they'd taken enough of what I'd said to their cuddly hearts.

"Got you, Pickup. I'll check through with him. Cinnamon'll play hostess on the way back."

"Got you, Kenzie. Where'll you be?"

"Got business. I'll be around the strip for a while, then I'll go back to the city and catch the sleep Tower stole from me."

"Babyface, babyface."

"You watch your mouth, you hear?" I grinned and signed off. We were now off and running, and if nothing tripped us, we were partway home with the goodies.

I parked outside the terminal building, checked my furs, then followed the pickup and Payge through the lock and into the building.

The check-in crew were at work immediately, at the far end of the hall. They were mostly people dragged from around the strip, or pulled off the Tit. Including those with more esoteric functions-than passport control.

I handsignaled the woman at the end of the group, and got a signal in return. All smooth so far; no problems with finicky papers or Diplomat Status. That last was lucky for me. It put CC 1st Class Payge under whatever laws we cared to dream up.

They okayed him, then had him roll up his left sleeve for an immunization test. A totally unnecessary test - Snowball had nothing infectious to speak of, apart from what we'd brought with us.

From now on, Payge would grow steadily worse in temperament. The particular drug given him would induce mild schizophrenia, with depression. The choice of drug was Candi's, as she had a background in psychology.

My only worries were for Cinnamon, as the rest was up to her.

I watched Payge scoop up his briefcase - we didn't bother him with a customs search - and nodded to the same woman at the end of the group, Tonia Fleming. She started toward me, with a bouncy stride, as Payge left. She looked efficient, and happy, both of which were true.

She stopped in front of me. "Scanned him head to toe," she said, brightly. "One middle-sized handgun at the back of his pants, a needle-spitter in an ankle holster, and a medium-sized hunting knife in a sewn-in scabbard in his jacket. The briefcase is rigged, I think, but I couldn't say exactly how much bang-power there is in it, or how it's set up. Not enough time."

"That's good enough," I said. "How long before he starts to break down?"

"Twelve minutes before it starts to really take effect, fifteen to eighteen before he gets to feeling fiery."

"Fine. That's it for now. I'll give them a head start, then go after them. Buzz me when the ship lifts."

"Got you. Take care." She strode away, turned, waved, then picked up speed.

Everything was happening the way I'd planned it. Our Guy, Marcus Payge, pawn by random choice, was now Armed and Extremely Dangerous.

But I still hadn't come up with anything on how to finish the game; one battle might be won now, but there was still the war to think about.

I thought about that for the next five minutes, then started back for my skimmer. If Tonia's times were right, things would start rolling in eight to ten minutes.

Cinnamon's skimmer was parked and empty when I reached the city, which meant that she could be anywhere inside, using her most charming aspects on CC 1st Class Payge.

I pulled a handset from under the dash, clipped it on my belt, and went inside, pulling my furs off as soon as the door closed, leaving my bodysuit free of obstructions. I listened at Cinnamon's door for a few moments, making sure the place was empty, and went inside. I left my furs there, and started walking into the city, checking the time regularly. I was worried; I couldn't hear anything, or see anything. The drug's effects should be well at work by now... .

All at once, it hit, and it almost knocked me off my feet with its intensity. Damn near enough to knock the orbiter halfway back to New Stockbridge.

It was one long, drawn-out yell in my mind, somebody putting everything into screaming for help. Mixed in with it were bits and pieces; scattered emotions, flashes of pain, an identification that was assuredly Cinnamon, and some ugly images pertaining to blood, gore, rape, and ruination. i'd oniy wanted a rape blast, but every little bit helped.

I stopped my head reeling and grabbed the handset, dialing Deke's office. "Mitch, Candi, where'd it come from?"

Mitch's voice reeled off a place not too far away. I started running.

"Tone it down a bit now," I yelled.

"Aye aye, Captain Kenzie," Mitch said, brightly. "Bounce enough?"

"You damned near bounced me up to Number One Son, Mitch."

"I take it that's confirmation?"

"That's right. Nicely handled." I skidded to a halt in front of the designated place. Hell, there was enough yelling and squealing coming from inside, along with sounds of breaking things. Not bones, I hoped. Cinnamon would never forgive me.

I hit the doorswitch and plunged in before the door was fully opened. I could hear running feet not far away from me. Very effective, and great for morale.

I hit the floor in a running dive, and skidding most of the way, painfully for my hands and stomach, to where Cinnamon and Payge were fighting it out. Payge's face was bloodied, and Cinnamon looked like she'd been through a washing machine, and badly spun dry.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, buzzard?" I yelled, as I came up.

He didn't answer. It's hard to hold a conversation when you're fighting to stop somebody from poking your eyes out.

As Payge grabbed hold of a handful of Cinnamon's long hair, I waded between them. That was why I was here. And Cinnamon looked pure crackers - she was right into what she was doing.

I grabbed hold of Payge, and started to swing him around and down, which was the wrong thing to do to a trained spaceman, even in that sort of condition. He countered, got level, twisted, and threw me. I sailed gracelessly, and painfully, across the room, to land with a thud on an overturned easy chair. I went over it, unable to stop the roll, and banged a shoulder on the floor.

I got back up, glutton for punishment that I am, jumped over the chair, advanced on him with my hands held out, intending to push him back from Cinnamon. Cinnamon had other ideas about that; she snarled and threw herself at Payge, clawing for his face and kicking at him.

I risked a glance at the doorway, saw a half-dozen bewildered faces, and then started back at Marcus.

I managed to avoid Cinnamon, struck at Payge's stomach with one hand, and hit him with the heel of my palm, under the chin, with the other. He stumbled backwards, pushing Cinnamon away, shook his head. He backed away as I moved in on him again.

Then he pulled the trick that I was angling for. He plunged a hand around to his back. I was certain that he'd sorted things out by now, even in the state we'd put him in, and had made me his number one target.

I let him get the pistol halfway out of his waistband, and then gave him a piece of my mind, smack in the conscious area, at half throttle. More would have been fatal.

His eyes rolled up and closed, then he went limp and folded to the floor.

It had been a long time since I'd last had to do that. It had caused me a lot of trouble in the past; I hadn't killed anyone with it yet, but nearly had. At school, the teases would get me mad and start me crying; one day they'd triggered the shockwave, and I'd flattened someone. It hadn't been long before somebody connected things to get the right answer, and life had been hell ever after, until somebody came looking for me with an offer to take me to Snowball.

I took it, naturally.

What I'd done to Payge was overload his conscious mind until it blew a fuse and shut down temporarily. He'd have a headache when he woke up, but nothing much else would be wrong.

Cinnamon let her breath out in a gush, and nervously shoved her hair back into place. She didn't do a good job of it. She glanced at Payge, then at me.

"I didn't have to fake most of that," she said.

I knelt by Payge, checking him over, looking for keys. I found a bunch with his papers. "Oh? Which bit did you have to fake?" I looked up at her.

She grinned. "Sweet-talking the bastard."

I stared at her in amazement. "You mean all the stuff I picked up was a real panic-yell?"

She nodded, rapidly. Uh-oh, bad sign. "It was a real panic yell," she said, jerkily, as if trying to swallow at the same time.

"Better untense, Cin," I said, sweetly, getting up and walking toward her.

She looked me in the eye, wound up, took a deep breath, held it for a beat, and let go as I made a grab for my handset. A nice, pure-toned scream, from the bottom of the lung. Also, in true fashion, from the well-springs of the mind - and Candi was still monitoring. We got a high-power, high-bounce blast for about a second.

I managed to grab Cinnamon as she passed out. Strain on her system. She would be fine when she woke up.

Come to think of it, I felt a bit like fainting myself.

My handset bleeped, and I turned it on.

Mitch's voice said, "What the hell was that?" I told her. "It damned near knocked Candi flat on her back," she said.

"That would be worse. We would have to rebuild. Get a doctor down here for Cin, will you? She's out of it."

"Doc Barry's in the crowd."

"Thanks." I kicked some things around and settled Cinnamon down in a comfortable position as Doc Barry pushed through the crowd. His bag floated behind him as he walked into the room. He spared a single glance for Payge, then ignored him as he set to work on Cinnamon.

I pulled some of the crowd in to cart Payge's unconscious body to the outpatients section, and thence to the lockup. He might as well have the bloody and battered bits seen to, as he looked bad enough in good health.

I picked up his briefcase and looked it over. Might be worth a look ... I undipped my handset.

"Mitch, Candi, meet me at my apartment, and while you're at it, get Leon. I've got something for him to check out."

"Aye aye" Mitch said.

"Aye aye, hell, Mitch. Kenzie out."

I left, calling for a breakup, and countering calls for explanations.

With the handset in one hand, and the case in the other.

Tower had my number by the time I'd settled into my quarters. Candi and Mitch were waiting, and Leon arrived, purring, a couple of minutes later. It looked like he'd run all the way from wherever he'd been, which, when you're only a meter twenty-five tall, is no mean feat.

I hit the answer switch on my apartment com unit as Candi went to make coffee.

"Kenzie, what's been going on?" Fernando's voice demanded. "Whatever you've been up to put most of the people almost into shock."

"Same for the city," I said, settling onto the bed as Leon curled up on a chair. I signaled that I'd get to him in a moment. "Sorry about that. Had a spat with Our Guy from New Stockbridge." I gave him some of the details. Leon giggled, high-pitched.

"You must have set it up," Fernando said.

"Don't go accusing me for the frailties of New Stockbridge, Fernando," I said, grinning. "Story later."

"Well, we're getting howls aplenty about it from Belinski."

"Do tell. What did you do?"

"Put 'em off with a story about how we don't know what's going on. The truth, that is."

"Get them back and put them through. I've got some words to say to them."

"Got you."

Over the next five minutes, while Fernando renewed contact and patched through to me, I explained what I wanted Leon to do. Leon's a clairvoyant, and worth a dozen X-ray units any time. He'd make a thorough check of the case, find a telekinetic, and open it for me.

I gave him the keys and the case, and he left.

Candi came back from the kitchenette with coffee. "Something to fill up the empty space," she said.

"Thanks."

I'd just finished the coffee when he dulcet tones of Lieutenant-Commander Belinski demanded to know, "Are you there, Goodall?"

"I'm here," I said. "And I'm mad. I thought you said there would be no trouble if we - "

"I don't care what your complaint is, Goodall," she snapped. "I've got something to say to you, and you'd better listen to me, before we bomb you for the hell of it." That ended on a snarl. She really did have a temper tantrum wound up and ready to go. Not that I was surprised.

"What you got was caused by your Corporal Payge. He's in custody awaiting trial right at this moment. If we don't hang him, we might use him

"You will release him at once." Flat statement.

I smiled at Candi. "He's welcome to walk away from here if he wants to. If that's what you want, we'll let him out, and he can walk out of the city scot free."

She kept silent for a moment, and when she came back, she sounded suspicious. "What's the catch? You're being clever, aren't you, Goodall?"

I signaled for more coffee, and made a face at Mitch. "Very astute of you, Lieutenant. If we let him out of the city, he'll have to walk all the way to the strip, providing he aims himself in the right direction. Without furs, heater, anything. Odds on he'd freeze to death within a kilometer."

This time it was pure fury. "I suggest you stop playing the fool!"

"I'm quite prepared to be reasonable, Lieutenant, if you are. All you've done since you got here is threaten and demand. Not a good way of doing business at all."

She was silent again, apparently calming herself down. "Maybe it isn't for you,- but I've been assigned to complete this mission at all costs. If that means I have to blast a hole where your precious city is right now, then I will do that. I'm considering the best way to do that at the moment. What's this all about?"

I raised my eyebrows and grinned at Candi as she handed me a filled cup. "Well, it's partially about attempted rape, and partially about two charges of attempted murder. Charged is the aforementioned Control Corporal First Class Marcus Payge, sent as, if you'll pardon the expression, your envoy to Snowball. Instead of acting like a normal human being, he got all het up over the assigned hostess, attempted rape, met with a fight, attempted murder, met with the screaming you got - that was the victim, lady by the name of Cinnamon - attracted a large crowd and, in front of same, tried to finish the job, then tried to do me when I attempted to stop him. Pulled a rather effective little laser pistol that he shouldn't have been carrying - he was also wearing some other lethal and illegal objects - and was in the act of trying to shoot me dead when he was stopped."

"How - "

"I knocked him out."

"What - "

"Trade secret. As it stands, he's now awaiting his trial."

"If that is the case, Goodall, I want -

"Oh, shut up, will you? If you want one of your ship lawyers present, you're welcome. But I'm not allowing Payge out. He's a bloody menace. He shouldn't have been carrying half an armory for a start, and you should be able to do better than to select someone as mentally unbalanced as he is. Surely you should be able to detect a rapist amongst - "

"Payge is perfectly stable. I have a report here on his whole mental and - "

"It's only good for wiping your arse," I said. I sipped my coffee.

"This is a detailed report, Goodall."

"I can write one just as detailed. Worth the same. Okay? Pure junk."

I sat up and finished the coffee. "Besides, you still haven't said what you want Ayna Parris for."

"I've already told you -

"Skip the repeat. How does an escaped convict manage to steal a special Government prototype?"

"Our security was bad."

"So you say." I paused, shook my head at Candi and Mitch. "Look, we'll give Payge his trial, then suspend sentence and ship him back to you. Then we can fly somebody else back down and you can have your ship and the lady."

"I don't trust you. I'll give you twelve hours for the trial. That's all. Then one of my boats will land. You will bring Parris and Payge to it directly while one of my men transfers to the prototype. Understood?"

I shrugged. "Understood." That idea was nagging again.

"No more tricks, understand, Goodall? Otherwise I'll lay into you and your city."

"Tch tch, your temper is unbecoming of a mission commander, Lieutenant."

"You're trying to be funny again, Goodall. Don't start it. I'm not easily amused. And no more of those mind-attacks either. Next time I won't bother to call."

"There won't be a next time," I said.

"Exactly. Twelve hours, Goodall. That's it."

"Twelve hours, fine."

"Good."

End of conversation. I reached out, switched the com off, and said, "I think I've got the right idea this time."

I started to talk.

Candi had had it all along: Empty barrels.

Ching said, "You want whatf"

She wasn't too pleased, I could see that. Her meter sixty-five frame packed in a lot of fury a lot of the time; it seemed an odd contrast against the fact that she was pure oriental, and very cute.

I said, "I want anything that'll produce a lot of confusion. Lights and sound, anything you can do with those two things."

"You sure you don't want electro-shock, acupuncture, and a bed of nails as well?"

For all her sense of humor, Ching was also the best pilot we had on Snowball. She could do things with a ship that no one else would be insane enough to even consider.

"Lights and sound will do," I said.

She looked at me for a few moments, apparently wondering whether a good shouting at would cure me. I'd woken her up to get her to put together what I needed.

Finally, she shook her head. "Okay. Light and sound. I'll need a hand, though."

"You've got it," I said, and we set to work.

Over the next hour we put together a pile of electronic and electrical equipment that would have made most technicians faint in horror. Ching paid no attention to fine details, simply jury-rigging a big enough busbar and wiring everything into it.

When we'd finished, she said, "There you are." She sounded proud of it.

"Let's see it in operation," I said.

"Sure." She squirreled around amongst the wires, threw some switches, and stood up, switching things on.

The resulting cacophony was a deafening, blasting, melange of pure noise, music, speech, echoes, distortion, and random light sequences. It only lasted a minute, but that was enough for me.

Candi had joined us ten minutes before, standing in a corner and watching. As the racket died away, I turned to look at her. She had her fingers in her ears and her eyes tightly shut.

I walked over and slapped her backside to get her attention! 'She looked down at me.

"I'm going to have to put up with that for as long as you need?" She pulled a face. "This had better work, Kenzie. Or I'll roll you in the snow."

I laughed. "I don't doubt it. Think you can handle it?"

She nodded. "I should be able to. Seems I'll only have to pay a little attention."

"I can have you put under hypnosis if you like."

She shook her head. "I can put myself under. A trance might help me to concentrate properly without feeling it too much."

"If you say so."

Candi shrugged. "I get the feeling that upstairs don't think we're much more than a nuisance."

I grinned, ruefully. "That's all we are. We've got nothing." I checked the time. "I'm going up to the tower for a while. You and Mitch had better finish collecting people together."

Fernando had gone off-duty in the tower when I got there, twenty-five minutes later. I'd stopped to check with Doc Barry on Cinnamon's condition. She was peaceful enough.

The controller on duty was Gerard Clarke. I had to think for a moment before I got his name - it's a little difficult to remember some seventeen hundred names, even when dealing with most of them - and he was both an empath and a precog, the latter ability in a minor form.

He turned and grinned at me as I walked in "Good morning."

"Morning, not necessarily good," I said, with a wave. "If you know what I mean."

"He's still sitting quietly," Gerard said, indicating the bank of monitors. "He's done a couple of complete orbits. Number two is pulling that signal in."

"Hmm." I looked at it. The usual fuzziness. I nodded. "Good enough. Which one will he be in range of in, say, an hour?"

Gerard pulled a face as he worked it out. "Number one and number two will both be pulling him in. Why?"

I scratched my jaw for a moment. "Pull the plug on number one in an hour. Can you make it look like a breakdown?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Sure. Trick in the works, do you Kenzie?"

"That's right. No looking forward, though. I don't want a bad opinion on it yet."

"Okay. Wouldn't matter anyway, would it?"

I looked at him for a moment. "Nope."

"Any details for me?"

"Later." I watched the screen for a moment. "We'll be sending up one of the ships for the repair job, as such it won't be. I'll be going with it, so I'll drop by the tower again before we leave."

"Which ship?"

"I don't know yet." I headed back for the door. "See you when."

"See you when."

Now I had to see the people Mitch and Candi had pulled together.

The explanations didn't take up much time - what there was in the way of tactics and strategy were simplistic. The main stress was on what each person would be doing, and how fast things would have to be done.

Candi and Mitch had rounded up as many telepaths as could be carried, along with a bunch of high-power telekinetics and some clairvoyants, including Leon. The case had proven to be a dead end. Nothing we could use.

I said, "It's going to be a painful experience. If anyone feels it'll be too much to handle, they can back down." They'd already had a dose of Ching's wonder machine. Nobody backed out.

I looked around the group again, and said, "All right. We'll rejoin at the strip to board the Second Chance Of A Lifetime" There were a few chuckles. "Take different routes and get into the hangar and wait for me. Mitch will be leading you."

Then I dismissed them.

Ching and Cinnamon would be piloting the Second Chance, leaving Candi to operate the wonder machine from the studio. Things would start to get interesting soon.

Unfortunately, I didn't realize how interesting at that time.

Twenty minutes after Number one comsat went out, I was back up on the Tit, in the tower control room, with the New Stockbridge ship on the line. Belinski wasn't available, apparently, so I was talking to a sub-Lieutenant Banton.

"Where's Lieutenant Commander Belinski?" I asked.

"She's sleeping," he said. "I'll handle whatever you've got to say." Right to the point.

"That's okay, it's nothing much anyway. Did you just shoot out one of our comsats?"

I heard an unhappy sigh. "I was warned, Mr. Goodall. To answer; No, we did not. This isn't a trick, is it?"

"No trick. One of our comsats just went out. I had a notion you might be involved. Sorry." I paused for a moment. "You can check it."

"We are doing that right now. What's happening with Control Corporal Payge?"

I grinned. "We're just arranging his trial. Got some people who want to dump him on the ice, but we won't do that. He's safe. Everything else is ready."

"As long as you don't do anything stupid," he said. "That's all?"

"One more thing. We'll be sending up a repair crew for the comsat. We'll have to pull it in and fix it."

"Ordinary repair ship?"

"Cargo barge. We haven't got anything smaller. We'll set up the repair shop before we lift. Ship's called the Second Chance Of A Lifetime. It's a converted hundred-berther."

"Bit big for a repair job." He paused. "Weaponless?"

"Yes."

"Just a moment while I check this."

I slapped the mute switch and swung around, blowing my cheeks out. Luck of the draw, I guessed. Belinski would have howled about it. Banton was a bit more reasonable - on the other hand, he had less to lose than Belinski.

Banton came back on the air. "We confirm on the comsat, but - "

"It's got to be fixed sometime," I said.

"Just a moment." There was silence for a moment. "Sorry."

"Huh?"

"What Mr. Banton is saying, Goodall," Belinski's voice said, "is no. That comsat going off so suddenly is a little too convenient."

I slumped. Too much too soon. "But we can't do without that comsat. Our mines - "

Belinski sighed. "Forget it, Goodall. I was woken up just for this idiocy, and I'm not pleased." She paused. "In fact, I've had just about enough of your games."

"Will you listen to -

"No." She was off the air while I fumed, silently. "I'm sending a boat down immediately. You will cooperate from now on. I'm not going to stand for anything from now on, do you understand that?"

"I think I got the message. Snowball out." I hit the switch. "Goddamn."

I was having trouble believing it. One of my wild ideas had finally done the trick. Now we were in for it.

"You'd better handle the landing, Ger," I said. "I'd better get ready for the Inquisition."

It took me a few minutes to explain the mess I'd gotten us into, once I'd gotten back to the strip. There was silence for a minute or so.

Then Mitch said, "It could still work."

I shook my head, watching my breath misting in the air. "They were expecting me to do something like this, Mitch. I picked the wrong diversion."

Cinnamon took hold of my arm. "Can't we do anything?"

I shrugged. "Don't look at me for ideas, Cin. I'm a bloody full-force failure. I had it coming."

"With that sort of attitude, I'm not surprised," Mitch said. "You know we're standing here freezing our asses off and just moaning? We haven't been in the firing line yet."

I looked at her, surprised. "Are you trying to tell me something, Mitch?"

"She's saying you shouldn't be a quitter!" Ching yelled. There was a low mutter from the rest of the group. "Dammit, Kenzie, we didn't start feeling sorry because we had to struggle with Snowball."

Linza Freeman, at the back of the group, said, "I get the feeling that we're being given a helping hand."

I straightened up. "What?"

"Well, they're coming to us. We can tackle them down here."

I clapped my mitts together. "Dammit, Linza, you've got a good point. I should have thought of that."

"Except you don't think," Ching said. "How long before they get here?"

Mitch said, "Gerry gives us five minutes. They're on the way."

I made a swooping motion with one hand, toward the hangars. "Everybody move and get under cover. We'll stay in contact through the telepaths. Everyone follow my lead."

It didn't take us too long to squirrel everyone away.

The ship came out of the east, looping around and coming down along the strip. The bulky machine turned at the bottom, powered up, taxied to the parking area, and settled down, squatting darkly on the ice.

I said, "Give me a couple of minutes," waved to the group in the hangar with me, and walked out to meet the ship. It could get me killed ... well, I didn't much care. If I failed, life wasn't going to be worth much afterwards.

I stopped a few meters from it as twin doors slid aside and a ramp folded down. A small group of men, dressed in uniform gray and carrying identical dark weapons at port arms, trotted down it, onto the ice.

I held my hands up and said, "I'm Kenzie Goodall."

One of the men, a tall, black officer, strode away from them, stopping a meter in front of me. "I'm sub-Lieutenant Banton. Got yourself into a mess, didn't you?"

"Me?" I said, innocently. "Not really."

He gave me a puzzled look. "You must be kidding."

"Not me. Where there's a will there's a winner, my friend." I grinned at him. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Cooperate and do as you're told." He glanced around.

"That's me. I have a slave mentality-"

That was enough to exasperate him. "Goodall, things would go better for you if you got some sense into your head and played safe."

I shrugged. "There may not be much sense in my head, but there's a lot of other things." One of the men behind Banton was starting to fidget. Well, well. "What do you want me to do?"

His mouth opened to say something, but there was a sudden loud, choking gasp from behind him. He turned as one of the men went to his knees, pulling at his uniform. He was slowly being strangled by it.

Banton whirled back, bringing his rifle up to aim at my face. "Stop that, Goodall! Now!"

"It's not me," I said, pleasantly. Then I let him have the shock-wave, in the middle of his consciousness. He folded up as [ turned and hit another man with it. He'd been starting to aim at me.

Another man was trying to help the man with the homicidal uniform. His rifle tore from his grasp, looped up, struck the back of his head, butt-first. He hit the ice heavily, out cold.

The ice exploded under the fifth man, tossing him back into the ship like a toy. The broken chunks' converged on him and battered him into unconsciousness. The sixth and final, man took aim at me, pressed the firing stud.

Nothing happened. One of the tk's had wrecked the mechanism. I hit him with the shock, watched him fold up, and ran back to the hangar. Leon had said twenty-four in all. That meant -

"Sixteen still to go," Leon said, as I squatted down behind the wall. I looked at him, puzzled. "Two pilots, both disabled. We left the others alone in case they decided to do anything drastic. But they can't get off the ground."

"And they don't have anyone to tell them to attack us. Fine." I looked around. "Linza, where's Fernando?"

"On his way," she said. "A minute or two." She changed her position. "He'll come straight inside."

"Thanks, heart," I said.

Fernando's skimmer arrived a minute later, skidding straight in and under the wings of the Second Chance. He jumped out as soon as the gullwing doors flipped up, and joined me, looking out at the ship and the unconscious men. The telekinetics had been at work again, dragging the bodies away from the ship.

Fernando looked at me with raised eyebrows.

"Smoke 'em out, Ferdie," I said. "There's eighteen of them."

"Any time," he said.

He sat down on the hangar floor and shut his eyes, concentrating. A little finesse was called for here; Fernando could just as easily destroy the ship as warm it up.

At the door to the ship, there was a sudden flare of orange light. Then a great gout of flame roared into the air, licked around the ship, vanished. A cloud of steam rose from the ice, where the flame had touched. It was another couple of minutes before any reaction set in, and then the remaining men came pouring out of the door, most of them stumbling. The two pilots were in the rear, staggering, their hands clutching their heads.

The leading man slipped on the ice, where Fernando had melted it, fell heavily onto his back, struggled to get up. The man behind him dodged to one side, and suddenly appeared to drop. He sank to his waist in icy water, letting go of his rifle. He tried to pull himself out, failed miserably.

I signaled my people and we charged from the hangar. As we broke out into the daylight, the ice around the ship exploded upwards, pelting the men. Some dropped their weapons and tried to get back to the ship, others simply started reeling about in confusion. Mitch and her telepaths were playing games with their minds.

The doors of the ship slammed shut, blocking escape.

One man tried to force the doors open by hand. He didn't have a chance, but I shocked him anyway. He slid down the door, rolled down the ramp, tripped another man.

Within ninety seconds, we had the job finished.

I leaped and cheered.

We gathered the weapons together and threw them inside the lander, then attended to the squad. We piled them neatly inside the terminal building, leaving them to the tender care of the people in there.

Ching and Linza ran for the Second Chance, with the telekinetics in tow. Cinnamon and myself checked over the New Stockbridge lander while Fernando fetched suits. There was nothing fancy about the control setup, just the plain old stuff found on most ships. Except Ayna Parris's stolen prototype; that had been designed as a fast fighter-bomber. Soru and Sira wouldn't stand a chance against a fleet of those.

I gave the thumbs up as The Second Chance Of A Lifetime lumbered from her hangar.

The Second Chance's tail-flare was vanishing into the distance as I started the take-off run with the New Stock-bridge lander. We gathered speed, kicked up heels, got bitten by G-force. It wasn't long before we were almost on top of Ching and Linza.

"Fire," I said.

My weaponsmaster touched some buttons, unleashing a burst of laser fire at the Second Chance. He missed.

"Your aim is despicable," I said

Fernando laughed. "I guess it is, Kenzie."

I looked back at Mitch, who was sitting in the navigator's seat. "Get ready. As soon as we're in visual sight of the New Stockbridge ship, let go."

A few seconds later, we were in a set orbit, and the ship's gravity systems took over, pulling us down from freefall to Snowball normal. These people adjusted for the places they expected to be.

We trailed after the Second Chance, firing an occasional burst at her tail - missing abysmally - until the lander's screens had the mother-ship clearly centered.

The communications rig started to buzz. I adjusted my headset, hit the answer switch.

Belinski's voice said, "What's going on, Lander nine?"

I hesitated before saying anything, considering what to do. Ah, the hell with it.

I said, "We have problems, Lieutenant-Commander."

"I noticed that," she snapped. "Can't you shoot straight?"

"Sometimes, even 1 wonder about that."

There was a long pause. I nodded to Mitch. Belinski said, "I might have guessed. What are you trying to do, Goodall?"

"Nothing much. Care to surrender?"

She laughed.

A couple of seconds later, two things happened. Most notable was that Belinski started to scream. The other thing, less notable, was that the New Stockbridge ship fired a sextet of missiles. The radar picked them up as they started tracking us.

"Fernando," I said.

"Got you, Kenzie," he said. His face screwed up.

The missiles exploded, not far from the New Stockbridge ship. There was a white flash, then a rapidly expanding dirty white cloud of debris. It vanished after a few moments.

Belinski's screaming died away. "Damn you, Goodall, I warned you."

Then she started screaming again. What Mitch and company were doing to her mind wasn't very nice at all. Tit for tat, Lieutenant, I thought.

"Situation, Mitch?" I said, as I let Cinnamon take over. She started looping us toward the mothership.

"They're frozen. Leon's got the lander bay, so you can start going in." She gave Cinnamon some instructions.

I nodded, hit the communicator switch to shut off the screaming, and stood up. "Suits, people." I looked at the screens. The Stockbridge ship was turning end over end, slowly. "And tell them to stop doing that, or we won't be able to get in."

"Got you," Milch said.

Verniers fired and the ship stopped turning.

The lander bay was at the back of the ship, a gaping cavity. Cinnamon took us down carefully, slotting us between the other landers. I passed a suit to her as she stood up. She would wait for us to return.

We charged out of the lock, taking care as we moved around. The tk's had dropped gravity to thirty percent, and the Stockbridge people would be able to handle it better than we would.

Fernando stopped, concentrated, and blew out the lock at the bottom of the lander bay. The area behind it was packed with white suits. A few laser bursts struck metal around us, burning through, but they weren't able to get a line on us. Too much confusion; Ching's setup was working well.

We charged through, taking away weapons and shocking a few into unconsciousness. Equipment was flying around, creating havoc. The telekinetics again.

I leaned on a bulkhead and watched as the suits bounced around, into each other and the bulkheads.

"Think we're really needed?" Mitch's voice asked.

I said, "Well, they might hurt themselves."

"Let them."

"Now, now, that's nasty." I straightened up, ducked a wandering rifle butt, and shocked a suit as it came too close, and hit the switch for the next lock along. The door slid aside and we crowded into the space.

The door to the other side opened. The situation was much the same. A few had more than the usual amount of wits about them, and one got a line on me with a hand laser.

The rifle butt I'd ducked earlier slammed into his arm, making him drop it before he could fire. I shocked him.

We went through the ship, finding more of the same. Confusion, utter and complete.

There was a dead technician lying against a wall across from a burned-out computer keyboard. I made a swift check of it, and nodded to myself. We'd just made it. The unit was the one that would have controlled the bombing of Snowball.

I left the others to attend to the stripping of the crew. They would be piled in their cabins and left; gas piped through the ventilation system would keep them under control.

I found Belinski a few minutes later, in her cabin. She'd obviously seen it coming when all of the ship's systems either froze solid or went haywire - Leon and the telekinetics had been responsible for that, mainly to stop Belinski from bombing Snowball - and she'd decided she didn't want to see the outcome. She knew she was in serious trouble.

She'd killed herself, very neatly, with a hand laser. Death before dishonor - I hadn't known anyone still bothered with that.

I climbed out of Cinnamon's skimmer in time to see a mountain of fur lumbering, with a touch of grace, from the nearby lock. Coming straight at me. It looked like a Snowman blown up to ten times normal size.

I stood my ground.

Thirty seconds later, Candi grabbed hold of me, lifted me fifteen centimeters from the ground with consummate ease, and damn near squeezed the breath out of me before sloppily kissing me and plonking me back on my feet.

"You soggy hound," I said, laughing-

"I don't care," she boomed. "That was the wildest thing you ever did right."

"I never do things wrong," I said. "I was only joking before."

"Hah! I never said you did things wrong. But we won't get a rest after this. You'll just get wilder."

She turned and strode back to the lock. I glanced at Cinnamon, who looked back with amusement, and followed her.

We went down to the Coffeebar, shedding the fur on the way. We met with a happy welcome, although Deke was nowhere to be seen. Candi gave them a minute, then shushed them, and led the way through to the coffee - if .ever there was a time for alcohol, this was it - and poured out three cups. There was nowhere to sit, so we stayed propped against the counter.

"I've got another answer for you," Candi said, as soon as we had some coffee inside.

I pulled out a small notepad and dropped it on the counter, looking for a stylus. "To which question?"

She grinned. "To how you get rid of the ship and crew."

"This has to be something to hear. So tell." I found my stylus, and started making notes on the pad.

"We send them to the Federation with instructions to tell all."

I shrugged. "That was my thought. I haven't figured out how we go about doing that yet."

Candi poured herself another cup of coffee. "We give them a zombie mentality."

I stopped writing. "A whatl"

"Zombie mentality. We put a mind-lock on them, bar out each personality, and program them. It won't affect their operations - they won't wreck the ship or anything like that - and it won't do them any harm. It can be taken off when they're ready."

1 looked at her in amazement. "You're wonderful. That's as wild as anything of mine." Then I stopped and frowned. "What if they don't have anything to do with this wild idea of mine?"

"They're still in trouble for threatening to bomb us out. We've got a case, got evidence, and we can push it through."

"You're right."

"Of course I am. And not only that, we've also got two other ships. Plus CC Payge and his release codes - what are you doing?"

I was scribbling again, making an itemized list. "Writing a bill for the Feds."

"Hmmm!" She peered at it. "I knew it. Another wild idea. That Snowball Services thing you were talking about a couple of weeks back?"

"The same," I said. "Seems we've got a lot of empty barrels we ought to start filling, so ... ."

She chased me all the way back to my apartment. *