Pegasus In Space

"Nicola, two more for lunch," the admiral said, bending to his intercom.

Over the high carbohydrate meal, Dirk brought them up to speed on other developments.

"We have reason to believe, and may shortly be able to prove, that Flimflam was supplied with tools and the MPU circuits by a contract electrician, Spaz Zenoun, who had worked onstation during Barchenka's time."

"Has she been implicated in the sabotage?" Johnny asked.

"Circumstantially," the admiral admitted. "Boris has a team reviewing the Barchenka surveillance tapes. He's got proof that an uncle of Shimaz's, Riz Naztuk, visited her on three occasions, one not long after you began working up here for Space Authority, Pete," the admiral said.

"Not conclusive enough to do anything, is it?" Johnny said.

"Boris is working on that."

"Okay, how else is Shimaz involved? I can assure you that he's been under increasingly heavy observation at First Base," Johnny said. "For the past six months he hasn't even been allowed to mix with other offenders."

"Boris and I had an interesting conversation about that," Dirk said, using his napkin before continuing. "I believe that, when he was sentenced to incarceration at the Lunar Prison Facility, he made threats. I believe there are fanatics among his associates who would consider it an honor to implement them. Almost a fatwa."

"In this day and age?" Johnny exclaimed scornfully.

"Oh, you'd be surprised," the admiral said. "Boris has discovered a link with the Faithful Brotherhood who attacked you in the restaurant, Peter."

"What?" Both stared at him.

"It was one of those splinter groups. They had attended Religious Interpretive Group meetings led by a certain Very Reverend Ponsit Prosit."

"Flimflam?" Johnny's voice came close to a squeak. Peter stared at the admiral, fork poised on the way to his mouth.

"The very man," Dirk replied with a confirmatory nod of his head. "Once again, inconclusive."

Johnny rattled his fingers on the table, blinking in thought. "Ah, yes, the guys who fell all over you at your birthday party would have finished their sentences by now." He cocked his head significantly at the surprised telekinetic. A valid reason for the cotton wool, Pete?

"That's interesting. However, while offenders can't get down, neither can anyone with a LEO record get up," Dirk said. A thought also occurred to him. "Flimflam gave evidence once before to save his skin."

"You said you were using him as bait?" Johnny said.

"If he attracts anything, that's an entirely separate issue," the admiral replied. "If 'they,' " and he bracketed his fingers around the pronoun to indicate the unknown quantity, "fall for it, it's all to the good. Cass Cutler says he's in a sweat of fearful anticipation. He must be expecting a contact. And," he raised his hand to forestall Johnny's interruption, "we have tripled security measures in the arrivals' hall and on the Mall. Boris sent up two more empaths to listen, supporting Shandin, Ranjit, and Cass. Closing the Station would defeat the purpose." He grimaced. "And we've all those quite legitimate freighter crews."

"Okay, okay, we get the message," Johnny said with a grin at Peter. "Are you stoked up enough, Pete?"

Peter had been eating an excellent meal-finishing with two pieces of a very good apple pie-while the other two were discussing the situation. He was, however, very eager to get to their office and review all those previously detestable use-energy readings to see if all his ambitious reflections on the return trip were in any way valid. Maybe he should also contact CERN and Professor Gadriel. Abruptly then, Peter swallowed the last mouthful of apple pie and got out a question.

"Admiral, I wanted to know if you've heard anything from Professor Gadriel."

"The professor?" Dirk patted his lips with his napkin, concealing a small smile. "Well, yes, Peter, I have."

Peter braced himself.

"Admittedly he was considerably confused-and a trifle irritated-when the latest set of circuits in his gestalt generator fried for no apparent reason." The admiral raised his hand to forestall Peter's chagrin. "When Rhyssa gave him the answer, he was delighted. He said it was proof he was on the right track." Dirk cleared his throat. "He's busy reconstructing them and would like very much to have a chance to talk with you. Good man, Gadriel. I said you'd make time."

"Oh, I will, sir, definitely," Peter said, letting relief wash over him. He put down his fork and then noticed the muscles on the back of his right hand were twitching.

"Pete?"

"Sorry, Johnny."

"Dirk, we can work just as easily from the conference room as CIC and get at least some of this stuff cleared," Johnny rattled the lists, "before we officially return."

"Good notion. Most of the passengers on the 28 are in transit downside right now in the regular shuttle," Dirk said, tapping a code into his wristcom. "Sakai, you will ignore any sudden fluctuations of the generators. Do you read me?" The admiral gave a nod of satisfaction for the immediate and unquestioning confirmation. "Do you need anything else in the conference room? Yeoman Nizukami can supply it."