Accordingly, goods in small demand may remain in storage for years, centuries, even. The building which Malacar had visited had remained undisturbed for almost two Earth months. Knowing this, he had expected small difficulty; that is, unless the impending deal of which he had become aware had been concluded ahead of schedule.
Considering the overworked traffic control centers, and the monitor and avoidance system programmed into his tiny, personal vessel, _The Perseus_, he did not feel that he would be taking too great a personal risk in leaving the DYNAB and entering into the territory of the Combined Leagues, in coming to Blanchen. If they found him and killed him, he would be proven incorrect. If they found him and captured him or accepted his ready surrender, they would have no choice but to send him home. But they would probably question him first, under drugs, find out what he had done and then undo it.
But if they did not find him, inside, in time ...
He chuckled, softly.
... The bird would have struck once more, halving another small worm.
His chrono gave him fifteen to twenty minutes.
_Where are you, Shind?_
_Above you, keeping watch_.
_This one, Shind, should be a good one_.
_It seemed so, from the way you described it_.
Three transports flashed above them, heading east. Malacar followed them with his eyes until they were out of sight.
_You are tired, Commander_, said Shind, reverting to a bygone formality.
_Nervous fatigue. That is all, Lieutenant. What of yourself?_