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his mind drifting away from the conversation.
    Three months. That was what the Qasaman doctors had told Jin. Three months to get that tumor out of her brain before it killed her.
    She'd accepted that diagnosis calmly, reminding Paul whenever he brought up the subject that if they couldn't beat back the invaders within that timeframe that they weren't likely to ever do so. Plenty of time, she continually reassured him, for her to go under the knife and be healed.
    Only what if the doctors had been wrong? What if it was only two months, or one and a half? She'd already used up two weeks of that time flying from Qasama to Aventine to Caelian and now back to Qasama. What if there was only a single month left?
    Even worse, what if the doctors were right about three months before the tumor killed her, but that there was only a month or two before the point of no return on an operation? Jin had always had a bad tendency to run medical things right up to the last minute. What if she pushed this one to the edge, only to discover that the edge had already been crossed?
    [Warrior, an infrared scan of the ships, may I have it?] Lorne asked suddenly.
    [The purpose of a scan, what is it?] Warrior asked.
    [The invaders' ships, I wish to know if they have been recently moved,] Lorne said. [Future movement, I wish to estimate its likelihood.]
    With an effort, Paul dragged his attention back from a bleak future to the equally bleak present. "What for?" he asked.
    Lorne pointed to the display. "You see that warship on the far left? It can't be more than fifty meters from the edge of the forest. Once we have a few more Cobras, I'm thinking we could sneak up or even rush it, take over, then use its lasers and missiles to blast all the others. But that only works if it's likely to stay put for the next few weeks."
    "Hence, the IR scan," Paul said, nodding. "You want to see how cold the grav lifts and drive are."
    Lorne nodded back. "Exactly."
    [The floatators and drives, they are inactive and cold,] Warrior said. [But the plan, it will not succeed.]
    "Sure it will," Lorne said. "All we have to do is—"
    [The plan, why will it not work?] Paul asked.
    [Encrypted ally-identification systems, all Trof'te warships have them,] Warrior explained.
    "Yeah, of course they do," Lorne said sourly. "Damn."
    "What's an ally-identification system?" Croi asked.
    "Probably like an IFF," Paul told him. "That's short for Identify Friend or Foe. It's a set of transponders designed to keep an army's warships from accidentally firing on each other."
    "You sure they actually have something like that?" Lorne asked. "You saw how easily we got the armored trucks to fire on their ships on Caelian."
    [The ally-identification system, ground vehicles do not have it,] Warrior said. [The risk of enemy capture and deciphering, it is too great. But the ally-identification system, all air combat vehicles and sensor drones will carry it.]
    [Certainty, you have it?] Lorne persisted.
    [Certainty, I have it,] Warrior said, starting to sound annoyed. [The ally-identification system, I saw it when Harli Uy and I toured the Drim'hco'plai warship.]
    "Give it a rest, Lorne," Paul advised. "I'm sure he knows what he's talking about."
    "Fine," Lorne growled. "It still might be worth taking that ship."
    "Let's get safely down first," Paul said. "Then we can discuss strategy."
    There was a ping from one of the consoles, and cattertalk script appeared on the display. [Official clearance, we have been given it,] Warrior announced.
    "We're going to Milika?" Paul asked him.
    "We're going close to Milika," Lorne said, giving his father an odd look. "He already said that."
    "Oh," Paul said with a flush of embarrassment. That must have happened while he was contemplating his and his wife's medical situations. "Yes. Right."
    "You okay?" Lorne asked, still giving him that look.
    "Of course," Paul told him. "I got distracted, that's all. How close—?"
    "Is your leg hurting?" Jin put in. "Maybe you