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Marten kicked him. Omi took out the second one.
    Nadia Pravda the engineer stared at the two of them in wonder and dread.
    “They were going to kill you,” Omi told her.
    Marten looked at Omi in surprise.
    “What?” she said.
    “We heard Hansen order it,” Omi lied.
    Nadia’s eyes got big and round. She glanced at Marten.
    He shrugged.
    Omi, who searched the bodies, handed Marten a small pistol. “It’s a projac,” he said. “Shoots drugged ice needles. Knocks a person out in seconds.” Omi checked the monitor’s pocket. “Hello.” He pulled out a small clip and examined the side print. He tossed it to Marten. “Know what that is?”
    Marten shook his head.
    “Explosive slivers of glass. A perfect murder weapon for use in a space hab.”
    “You’re not monitors, are you?” Nadia asked.
    Marten stared at her, uncertain how to go about this.
    “I’m sure this isn’t about helping me,” she said, “although I do appreciate the help.”
    “The lift is slowing down,” warned Omi.
    “Look,” she said. “What…” Perspiration glistened on her brow. “You two swear that they were going to kill me?”
    “What do you think these are for?” Marten asked, showing her the second clip.
    Nadia moaned and hugged herself. “It wasn’t my fault.”
    “That doesn’t matter anymore,” Omi said.
    “I know that!” she said.
    The lift stopped and the door swished open.
    She stared at the empty corridor. Then she turned to Marten. Fear twisted her features, turning her skin pale under the shadow of her hat.
    “Let’s make a deal,” Marten said.
    “What kind of deal?” Nadia asked.
    “I want to know why a solar engineer is working for drug lords,” Marten said.
    “Not drug lords,” she said. “I work for the monitors.”
    “Not for all of them,” Marten said, guessing. “But for the corrupt ones.”
    Her shoulders sagged. She nodded. “I needed the credits.”
    “I don’t want to know your reason,” Marten said. “Tell me theirs.”
    “This is all very interesting,” Omi said. “But what are we going to do about these two? We have to move them.”
    “Well?” Marten asked her. “Why did they need you?”
    “Because the plant is there,” she shouted. “Why do you think?”
    “The plant is where?” Marten asked.
    “In the solar panels where I work.”
    Marten smiled for the first time. He bet vacc suits were in the solar panels. He needed a vacc suit to spacewalk to the broken-down pod. “Last question.” He shrugged off his jacket and showed her his barcode tattoo. “Have you ever seen one of these before?”
    “The monitors have them,” she said. “It tracks them, I think they said.”
    “That’s right,” Marten said. “Do you know how they take themselves off the tracking screen?”
    A shifty look entered her eyes. “What’s it worth you to know?”
    “Nadia,” Marten said. “Either you tell me or there’s no deal. Then you’re on your own again.”
    She glanced at the two unconscious monitors, at Omi as he shot each of them with a second projac. The monitors jerked. The one with the forehead scar and the missing teeth opened his eyes. Then the knockout drugs took over and the eyes closed again.
    “It’s a little device that Hansen keeps with him,” Nadia said. “I’ve seen him slide it over two of his guards before, when they came to… to help me. One of them said something about it making them invisible. I guess he meant invisible to the station tracker.”
    “Good,” Marten said. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

7.

    Marten reentered Smade’s. He needed the device that would deactivate his barcode tattoo. Nadia said Hansen kept it on his person. He hoped she was right.
    Before Marten adjusted to the gloom, Kang bellowed a greeting. Marten strode in that direction and a moment later slid into his chair. Hansen had his slender hands wrapped around a frosty glass of blue liquid. He looked dejected, his thinning hair messed up at the sides as if