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tracked down the Lothogy. Several terminal stations lined the circumference of the oblong deck, all of their sleek interfaces lit up in gold and blue. At each terminal controllers stood, maintaining the Borden Company flag ship's internal functions. None of them looked at him as he made his way to the center of the room.
    Stopping beside Charles Baine, his executive vice president, Matt scowled at the holograms flitting through the center control pad. Six of the holographic ships zipping around were Fomorri fighter class; the Borden Company's pride. Slim, triangular shaped single-seaters, heavily armed and easily maneuverable, Fomorri vessels were the preferred ship for combat both in and out of atmosphere. The company owed most of its fortune to the revolutionary design.
    Matt focused on the larger of the holograms as it made a quick flip to the left. The Lothogy's angular, birdlike shape drifted so close to the ocean's surface that the hologram echoed little lapping waves just beneath it. The Fomorri closed in, making a V-pattern trailing the Lothogy.
    "They can't hope to outrun us," Charles said, crossing his arms. "The Lothogy is too heavy in atmosphere."
    "They can hope, they just can't succeed." Matt frowned at the images before him. He knew what he had to do, he just didn't want to do it.
    When he got his hands on his brother, Matt was going to strangle the Loyalist bastard until his eyes bulged and his face turned purple. Human experimentation was bad enough, but dredging up a decades old virus - a virus that nearly obliterated humanity, no less - was nothing short of insanity. And to make matters worse, David had somehow allowed his illegal research to leak into the most disastrous of places.
    Mesa Prosser was as cunning as her husband.
    According to the computer records, Mesa had managed to upload his brother's Mavirus data for exactly twenty-seven point two seconds before the fail-safes had kicked in. Twenty-seven point two seconds was long enough to upload forty-three percent of the data on Outboard Jupiter's mainframe, and Matthew was not willing to risk that the information she had managed to copy consisted of the more innocuous points of his brother's work.
    Matthew didn't doubt for a moment that the woman had managed to pass the information on before her death. He didn't know how, given that his Fomorri had shot her down somewhere in Jupiter, but he wasn't going to feel safe until every remnant of the woman was gone.
    And that meant he had to destroy her husband and that damn ship before they stumbled onto the real reason he'd had Mesa killed.
    "Orders, sir?" Charles asked.
    Pressing his fist to his mouth, Matt glared at the Lothogy. God forgive him, what a waste.
    "Fom One, walkabout. Fom Six, grab his tail," Matt said. He hesitated, knowing that his Fomorri could hear every word he said and would react immediately. By God, David was going to pay for this moment. "Fire at will, gentlemen."
    All six ships responded, recognizing the flight tactic. Fom Six pushed in close to the tail end of the Lothogy, so close that the holograms looked mere inches apart. Foms Three and Four spun high to turn and fire at its right side, while Foms Two and Five flipped to fire at the left. Fom One, flying low and fast, zoomed past the Lothogy in order to turn and double back, coming at it head on.
    Matt narrowed his eyes at the trap, trying to anticipate Hedric's next move.
    The Lothogy made an abrupt maneuver, spewing something out the back that caught Fom Six before the ship could react. A small blue explosion flashed and the hologram of Fom Six disappeared. Tightening his fists, Matt fought to push the loss out of his mind and concentrated harder on the hologram of the Lothogy.
    Holding back a stream of curse words, he watched as the Lothogy made a near vertical climb away from the trap, barely missing a collision with Fom Two. The five ships left zipped past each other, collecting again to continue the pursuit. And then the