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way upstairs.
    “They used the stairs,” Ky said. “And I think also the lift.” She was carefully not touching the stair rail.
    “They will have worn gloves,” the man said. He sounded glum.
    In her room, the bedcover was missing, and her empty duffel lay open in a corner. The closet was open; her clothes were gone; all the drawers were empty. In the bathroom, all the toiletries were gone as well.
    The policeman grunted. “Typical,” he said after a moment’s look around. “They want everything to check for DNA and anything else that might be useful. I hope you didn’t leave them something juicy.”
    Ky’s stomach churned again. Being physically attacked was one thing, but having her things taken—all of them—was in some ways more upsetting. “The—valuables—are in the safe downstairs. If they didn’t break into that.”
    “No,” he said. He had pulled on gloves; he opened the drawers all the way, looking into them for anything left behind, opening the cabinets in the bathroom. “So you’re a prudent traveler… I suppose one expects that from spaceship captains.”
    “I wasn’t prudent enough to put a set of underwear in the safe,” Ky said ruefully. “I hope you have a good ’fresher in the jail.”
    “I’m sure someone can obtain the necessary items for you,” he said.
    “It doesn’t make sense,” Ky said. “Surely someone would notice men in masks carrying a bundle that looks like a bedspread…”
    “I doubt they carried it far,” the man said. “Or they had something else to put things in and just used the spread to make it easy to collect them.”
    “I almost came up here to make the call,” Ky said. Her knees felt shaky again. “I thought, walking back, My feet hurt and I’ll just go upstairs and kick my shoes off. But the combooth in the lobby was closer. If I had come up here I’d have had no warning…”
    “Sit down, Captain Vatta,” the man said. “You’re looking pale.” Ky sat on the bed, which was nearer than the chair. She told herself to get a grip, but tremors shook her. “A natural reaction… though it took you rather longer to get to it than most.”
    “I… thought I was all right,” Ky said. Her hand still hurt where she’d hit the man’s armor.
    “I think I will call your legation, if you permit, on your behalf,” he said. He sounded almost friendly now. Ky tried to focus, tried to grasp why, but she couldn’t.
    “Thank you,” she said. The tremors eased, but she still felt cold and sick.
    The consul appeared only minutes later. “Captain Vatta, the captain has explained what he understands happened. How can we be of service?”
    She could not imagine asking the consul to go buy her some underwear, and at the moment the lack of underwear loomed larger in her mind than anything else.
    “I’ll be all right,” she said, aware that the statement made incomplete sense at best. “The ship needs to know.”
    “I think she’s in shock,” she heard the policeman say. “I thought at first… but then she went pale and started shaking.”
    “Reaction,” said the consul. “You’re a bit pale yourself, you know.” Ky could not think of the consul’s name. His face seemed to leap nearer. “Captain—do you know my name?”
    “I’m sorry,” Ky said. “But no.” She should remember it, she knew that much. She had called him from Belinta Station when she arrived; they’d discussed the Sabine situation. She had arranged to meet him at the legation this very morning. But everything had gone fuzzy at the edges and all she had the energy to do was sit there.
    Then the policeman canted slowly to one side and collapsed. People shouted, ran to and fro, and Ky watched it all with a detachment that she knew was unnatural, until someone picked her up and put her on a litter and she slid into sleep.

Chapter Three
    The room smelled of familiar tropical flowers, lush and spicy. A floral print on the bed, on the dressing table with its low bench, on