"I—"We lost him, Kira. But Sammy couldn't say the words. "See for yourself, Kira. The last two thousand seconds of my pov. I'm headed back to Lowcinder now...one last loose end to tie down."

There was a pause. Lisolet was fast with an indexed scan. After a moment he heard her curse to herself. "Okay...but do tie that last loose end, Sammy. There were times before when we were sure we'd lost him."

"Never like this, Kira."

"I said, you make absolutely sure." There was steel in the woman's voice. Her people owned a big hunk of the fleet. She owned one ship herself. In fact, she was the only operational owner on the mission. Most times, that was not a problem. Kira Pen Lisolet was a reasonable person on almost all issues. This was one of the exceptions.

"I'll make sure, Kira. You know that." Sammy was suddenly conscious of the Triland Security boss at his elbow—and he remembered what he had accidentally discovered a few moments earlier. "How are things top-side?"

Her response was light, a kind of apology. "Great. I got the shipyard waivers. The deals with the industrial moons and the asteroid mines look solid. We're continuing with detailed planning. I still think we can be equipped and specialist-crewed in three hundred Msec. You know how much the Trilanders want a cut of this mission." He heard the smile in her voice. Their link was encrypted, but she knew that his end was emphatically not secure. Triland was a customer and soon to be a mission partner, but they should know just where they stood.

"Very good. Add something to the list, if it's not already there: ‘Per our desire for the best specialist crew possible, werequire that the Forestry Department's university programs be open to all those who pass our tests, not just the heirs of First Settlers.' "