"I have my sources, sir. They're rearming as fast as their shipbuilding industry can space hulls. They come off the line looking like commercial ships, only they've got drive potential up the yang-yang, and they never get delivered to any of the transport outfits. They disappear for a while, then turn up somewhere else with guns dripping off them."

"Why wasn't High Command informed of this, Beckhart?"

"Because my sources are in the Defender's office. And I knew why they were rearming. You wouldn't have bought it. Half of High Command is still trying to refight the Ulantonid War. I let it go on playing that game because people were seeing enough of those new ships to get nervous and start us a secret building program of our own. So we're on our way too."

"Beckhart... Your logic baffles me. Totally baffles me. I have the distinct feeling that you'll have to explain it to a Board of Inquiry. What else have you hidden from us?"

"You want an honest answer, or one that will please you?" Beckhart did not make many friends. He retained his position principally because no one else could do his job as well.

"Beckhart!"

"Several things, sir. Ongoing operations. If they work out, we'll be in good shape for meeting these monsters."

"Monsters?" Melene demanded. "There's no evidence... "

"Melene, the Admiral is a xenophobe. In fact, he doesn't like people very much. Tell me what you're doing, Beckhart."

"There's a chance I'm on the threshold to the solution of the Sangaree problem. Some new data was on its way in before we left. I'll probably want to borrow von Drachau again."

"What else?"

"Still too tentative for discussion. A possible breakthrough in communications and weapons technologies. I won't discuss it now. Not here."

"Beckhart... "

"Security privilege. Sir. Log it if you like."

Von Staufenberg wheeled on the Director of Naval Intelligence. She shrugged. "You won't get anything from me, either, Manfred."