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hard. “I hate it when you say things like that. The last time Janice Cogle didn’t come back from that routine mission on Ikez III.”
    He let himself drown in the familiar feel of her body against his. “Hey, Kell, why don’t you go to the infirmary and I’ll report you sick. We can pick up another member for the security team when we pass Defense.”
    “But it’ll make you even later. You know how jittery the captain’s been. He’ll roast you.”
    “Don’t worry. I know how to handle Tahn. You just have to look pathetic and he commutes your sentence from a year of hard labor to a week.”
    He kissed her gently, then put his hands against her hips and shoved her in the opposite direction. “Love you. See you in a couple of hours.” He charged off, trying to catch up with his companions.
    As soon as he rounded the corner, anxiety pressed hard fingers into his throat. Goddamn, she wasn’t the flighty type. Her dependability and ability to sense danger were legendary among a half-dozen starship crews. Like a sixth sense, she’d often felt ambushes or traps, saving her teams before they ever got in trouble. Was that what this was all about? A warning?
    He ran harder, dodging around the corner for the transport tube. Lieutenant Sam Morcon held the door open, scowling. Short, with sandy hair, his mouth had a hard set to it.
    “We were wondering if you’d gone to hell or something, Ryngold. What was the delay? Where’s Gilluy?”
    Jamie slipped into the tube and hit the patch for level nineteen. He damn sure couldn’t tell Morcon what Kell had said. The entire team would get the jitters so bad they’d be incapable of functioning at top level. “Kell’s sick. I sent her to the infirmary. We need to pick up somebody else for the team.”
    “Sick? She looked fine. When did—”
    “I don’t know,” he answered tersely, waving it off. “I told her it must have been that cheese soup she had for lunch. Did you smell that stuff? Sheesh, like slime that’s been breeding for a month.”
    Morcon looked slightly relieved. “Yeah. I did. That’s why I sat on the opposite side of the table. Well, okay, let me near the com.” He pushed between Jamie and Norman Linape, going to the black patch on the wall. He input the numerical sequence for level nineteen security standbys.
    “Security,” a laconic voice boomed through the tube.
    “Banders? This is Morcon. We’ve had an illness in our team. Have somebody meet us at tube nineteen-three immediately.”
    “Aye, Lieutenant.”
    Morcon stepped back and lazily leaned a shoulder against the wall. Jamie quietly exhaled and turned his gaze to the numbers that flashed in blue on the wall as they descended.
    CHAPTER 3
     
    Neil Dannon grinned as he entered the Hoyer’s fifth-floor lounge. He’d been diligently avoiding responding to any of the urgent calls coming over the ship’s com system. He didn’t want to talk to any of these despicable purple-suited martinets. If they wanted him, they could damn well hunt him down.
    His gaze drifted around the large room. It reminded him of some of the nicer taverns on Farben. Lit with jasmine-scented oil lamps, it had thirty small wooden booths and a series of magnificent holographs lining the walls. The holos pictured mountain scenes so breathtaking a man could almost feel the chill of the snow that frosted their peaks. The raucous music came from Giclas V. Its painfully sharp notes affected him like darts shot out of an old-style cannon.
    Forty off-duty officers crowded the lounge tonight, most sitting, but several stood in the center of the room, just beyond the rim of the empty marbleoid dance floor. The white oval shimmered pearlescent in the soft light. Neil took another sip of his Ngoro whiskey and eyed Farin Wyncol admiringly. A petite shapely brunette with enormous green eyes, she noticed his attention and smiled seductively. He returned the gesture.
    The officers standing nearby gave her disdainful, almost malignant