Lepkowski shook his head. "None at all—Earth's way off the convoy routes. I understand your team's riding with me."

"News travels fast," Caine said. Of course, Lathe would have given Lepkowski advance notice of the team's graduation. "Tell me, General, do you have any ideas about where military secrets on Earth might still be preserved?"

Lepkowski's eyebrows rose slightly. "Any particular secrets you had in mind?"

Caine took a deep breath, suddenly afraid this was going to sound either stupid or boastful or both.

"As a matter of fact, yes," he said between stiff lips. "I want to find the formula for Backlash. The blackcollar drug."

—

If Lepkowski thought the goal ludicrous, it wasn't immediately evident. For a long moment the general eyed Caine in silence, his face giving away nothing. Then he twitched a shrug. "Nothing like starting at the very top of the list. I suppose it's occurred to you that other people have undoubtedly gone on the same treasure hunt over the past thirty years, and that there's no evidence anyone's succeeded yet."

The thought had crossed Caine's mind. Frequently. "True. But maybe they were looking in the wrong place."

"And you expect me to know the right places?"

"I know you were in charge of this sector before the Ryqril took it. Surely you knew most of the military safe drops on Earth and elsewhere."

Lepkowski snorted, a wry smile touching his lips. "Safe drop. I haven't heard that term in years.

Your tutors had a definite military bias."

"General Morris Kratochvil was one of them."

"Kratochvil." The age lines around Lepkowski's eyes seemed to deepen. "A good man... No, Caine, the formula for Backlash wouldn't have been put in any safe drop. If it still exists, it'd have to be in one of the Seven Sisters."