to take your mind off the situation. However, it is not. The solution, clearly, is to evacuate the ship.>
On the screen, one of the Dato raiders loomed, partially occluding the image of Sciacca’s World.
She glanced at the screen as more missiles barraged the Frigate’s struggling defenses.
The Box fell silent, then returned a moment later, sounding faintly surprised. After a further pause of a few seconds, the voice spoke again inside Roche’s head:
“Right.” She stood to leave, the valise gripped tightly in her hand. Cane, forgotten during her exchange with the Box, startled her as she turned to face the door. “You’re leaving?”
She hesitated briefly. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I have no choice.”
The Box’s words broke across her thoughts like the voice of a guilty conscience.
“What? Why? ” Startled by the Box’s request, she spoke aloud. Cane frowned, but didn’t speak.
“What about it?”
“He is? How do you know that?”
“I—” She stopped. It made sense—but explained nothing. If that was so, why was he here ?
Confusion wrinkled Cane’s brow. Roche belatedly realized that she’d been talking to the Box out loud, rather than by subvocalizing. What he made of her side of the conversation, she couldn’t even guess.
Torn between her mission, curiosity, and basic Human compassion, she tried to decide what to do with him. If she left him behind, he would surely be captured by the Dato Bloc—at best—and she would never learn who he was, nor why Klose had not wanted her to see him. On the other hand, she knew too little about him to risk him coming along; having a total stranger in tow at a time such as this could prove a threat to her mission.
“Okay, okay.” Cane’s stare hadn’t faded, and she returned it with one of equal intensity. “My name is Commander Roche of COE Intelligence,” she said quickly, collecting as she did a handful of magazine charges for her pistol and slipping them into her belt. “I’m going to try to escape in one of the landers. You can tag along, but only on the understanding that I give the orders. Clear?”
“I understand.” His smile was slight but genuine. “And I agree.”
“Good. Because should you so much as cross me once, I swear I’ll shoot you.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
She wrapped the belt loosely about her waist and keyed the door with her palm. “Okay, then let’s move it.”
The ship lurched as they stepped out into the corridor. Roche swayed, steadying herself with the walls. Ahead of her, Cane hardly missed a step. For the second time she shrugged away his helping hand.
“That way,” she said, gesturing with the pistol.
Nodding, he obeyed, and Roche followed a pace behind. His steady pace displayed no concern at the gun at his back, and neither did he stop to question her plans. That sudden—and unreciprocated—trust bothered her more than anything else about him. Whoever he was, he seemed quite content to place his fate in
