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testify that Angus was guiltless of the crime for which he’d been
arrested and convicted. However, the still-recent passage of the Preempt Act
had been founded squarely on those two accusations: that Com-Mine Security had
performed or permitted sabotage against Starmaster ; and that Security
had conspired with Captain Thermopyle to steal Station supplies.
    The
Preempt Act was the capstone of Holt Fasner’s ambitions for the UMCP. If the
perceived reasons for the Act’s passage were revealed as inaccurate, or if DA’s
hand in the fabrication of those reasons were exposed, the Act itself might be
reconsidered. The web of power which Fasner had so carefully woven for his
personal cops might begin to unravel.
    Hashi
didn’t doubt that Holt Fasner wanted Morn Hyland dead.
    So was
Warden Dios simply following the Dragon’s instructions? Or was he playing some
deeper game?
    This
brought Hashi to another question which had troubled him for some time.
    Why had
Warden Dios insisted on “briefing” Joshua alone immediately prior to Trumpet’s departure? Joshua was nothing more than a welded cyborg: a piece of equipment
in human form. Since when did the director of the United Mining Companies
Police waste his time “briefing” pieces of equipment?
    I
don’t care what happens to you.
    Hashi
couldn’t persuade himself to stop worrying about Nick Succorso’s flare.
    His
chronometer continued to tick threateningly onward. The longer he waited, the
harder-pressed he would be to account for his delay. And that in turn conveyed
other dangers. Under pressure he might find it necessary to admit his dealings
with Captain Scroyle and Free Lunch . If those dealings became, in a
manner of speaking, “public” between him and his director, he might find his
freedom to offer Captain Scroyle new contracts restricted. In addition every
passing minute increased the chance that Free Lunch might be forced to
move beyond reach of the nearest listening post, which would prevent her from
receiving any new offers — at least temporarily. Hashi would lose his
opportunity to put Captain Scroyle back to work.
    He
permitted himself an intimate sigh of relief when his intercom chimed to inform
him that Koina Hannish wished to see him.
    He didn’t
admit her right away, however. Instead he took a moment to calm himself so that
he could be sure none of his private urgency showed. Only when he was certain
that he would give nothing away did he tell his receptionist to let the new
UMCP Director of Protocol in.
    As
befitted a PR director, Koina Hannish lived on the opposite end of the emotive
spectrum from Lane Harbinger. Where Lane emitted tension like a shout, Koina
breathed an air of quiet confidence. Immaculately tailored and tended, she
conveyed almost by reflex the impression that every word she spoke must be
true, by virtue of the simple fact that it came from her mouth. Hashi supposed
that most men would have called her beautiful. Under any circumstances he could
imagine, she would make a better PR director than fulsome, false Godsen Frik
ever had. She would have risen to her present position long ago if Godsen hadn’t
held the job on Holt Fasner’s authority.
    “I don’t
like this, Director,” she said frankly as soon as the office door was closed
and sealed. “It doesn’t feel right.”
    Hashi
smiled benignly. “Director yourself, Koina Hannish. I will not waste your time
by thanking you for this visit. You are desperately busy, I know. What is it
that ‘doesn’t feel right’ to you?”
    She
settled herself upright in a chair across the desk from him before she
answered, “Seeing you like this. Talking to you. Working for you.”
    “My
dear Koina—” As an affectation, Hashi pushed his glasses up on his nose. They
were nearly opaque with smears and scratches: he knew from careful study that
they made him look like he was going blind. But he didn’t need them; his vision
was fine without refractive help. He had trained himself