“Wise of him,” Travante said. “Trying to throw it at your shields, unless it’s extremely high power, would be a waste of assets.”

“But the problem is that we’re losing agents,” Sheida frowned. “And bleeding information to the enemy. You’re not the first inspector to turn up, although you’re the first Special. And I’ve set most of them on this problem. Eventually, I want you to have a close look at… possible problems in our higher command.”

“You mean in the Council?” Travante frowned.

“No, I’m sure of all of our council members,” Sheida replied. “I’d like you to investigate other possibilities. But before you do that… are you up for a long ride again?”

“At your command, ma’am,” the inspector said.

“I want you to go back to Newfell Base,” Sheida replied. “There’s a mission being prepared there. We’re definitely losing data from Newfell. There is probably more than one source. But I want you to insinuate yourself into the mission, probably as a sailor on the ship given your recent experience, and try to determine if there is an agent or agents amongst the crew. When you return from that mission, you’ll probably stay at Newfell, or in the Fleet, pending the outcome of the investigation.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the inspector said.

“Just that?” Sheida smiled. “Back on horses and stagecoaches, all the way across the continent?”

“How do I contact you, ma’am?” was all Travante asked.

“Hold out your left wrist, face up,” Sheida said. When he did she waved her fingers over his wrist and, for a moment, a picture of an eagle was superimposed on it as if by a tattoo, then faded.

“If you need to contact me, touch the eagle and say or think my name,” Sheida replied. “Sheida, Sheida Ghorbani, whatever. Just think of me. Edmund Talbot, who is a long-term friend and as trustworthy as they come, is going to be on the mission. If you need assistance, contact him. He will be informed that there is an agent of mine present. Try not to step on each other’s toes.”