Marooned in Realtime

Wil started to shrug, Why ask me? He glanced at Della Lu, remembered that he was damn close to being arbiter in this dispute. 'Why?'

'It should be obvious now. The deal was that we would let her stay in realtime as long as she didn't interfere. Well, it's sure as hell clear someone is backing the NMs-and she's the best suspect.'

'But suspect only,' said Lu. The spacer's face and costume were a strange contrast. She wore frilly pants and halter, the sort of outfit Wil would have expected at the picnic. Yet he hadn't seen her there. Had she simply peeped, too shy or aloof to show up? Whatever personality matched the outfit, it scarcely fit her expression now. It was cold, determined. 'I gave her my word that '

Yelen slapped the table in front of her. 'Promises be damned! The survival of the settlement comes first, Lu. YOU of all people should know that. If you won't hobble Robinson, then stand aside and let- —'

Della smiled, and suddenly she seemed a lot deadlier, a lot more determined than Korolev-with all her temper-ever had. 'I will not stand aside, Yelen.'

'Um.' Yelen sat back, perhaps remembering that Della was one of the most heavily armed of the travelers, perhaps thinking of the centuries of combat experience Lu had had with hey weapons. She glanced at Brierson. 'Will you talk some sense to her? We've got a life-and-death situation here.'

'Maybe. But Tammy is only one suspect-and the one who is most carefully watched. If she was up to something, surely you'd have direct evidence?'

'Not necessarily. I figure I'll need a medium recon capability for at least another century of realtime. I can't afford a 'no-sparrow-shall-fall' network; I'd run out of consumables in a few months. I have kept a close watch on Robinson, but if her family stashed autons before they left, it wouldn't take much for her to communicate with them. All she has to do is give away some trinkets, make these low-techs a bit more dissatisfied. I'll bet she has high-performance bobblers hidden near the Inland Sea. If she can lead her little friends there, we'll be looking at a lot of long-term bobbles-and an end to the plan.'

If the Robinsons had prepared their departure that carefully. they were probably responsible for Marta's murder, too. 'Hog 'bout a compromise? Take her out of circulation for a few months.'

'I promised her, Wil.'

'I know. But this would be voluntary. Explain the situation to her. If she's innocent, she'll be as upset by all this as we are A three-month absence won't hurt her announced goals, and will very likely prove her innocent. If it does, then she could have a lot more freedom afterwards.'

'What if she doesn't agree?'

'I really think she will, Della.' If not, then we'll see if f my integrity can stand up to Yelen as well as yours does.

Yelen said, 'I would buy a three-month bobbling-though we may go through this same argument again at the end of it.'

'Okay. I'll talk to Tammy.' Della looked down at her frilly outfit, and a strange expression crossed her face. Embarrassment? 'I'll get back to you.' Her image vanished.

Wil looked at the remaining bolo. Yelen was in her library. Sunlight streamed through its fake windows. Night and day must have little meaning to Yelen; that made Wil feel even more tired.

Korolev diddled with something on her desk, then looked back at Wil. 'Thanks for the compromise. I was on the verge of doing something... rash.'

'You're welcome.' He closed his eyes a moment, almost succumbing to stun-induced sleepiness.

'Yes. Now we know our worst fears are true, Inspector. Agrav glowballs. Polka-dot paint. These are completely trivial things compared to what we have already given away. But they are not on the gift inventory. It's just like Phil says. Marta's murderer is not done with us. Someone or something is out there, taking over the low-techs.'

'You don't sound so sure the Robinsons are behind it.'

'... No, that was partly wishful thinking. They have the clearest motive. Tammy would be the easiest to handle.... No. It could be almost any of the high-techs.'

Brierson was too tired to keep his mouth shut. 'Do we even know who those are?'

'What do you mean?'

'What if the murderer is masquerading as a low-tech? Maybe there's a surviving graverobber.'

'That's absurd.' But her eyes went wide, and for nearly fifteen seconds she was silent. 'Yes, that's absurd,' she repeated, with a trace less certainty. 'I've got good records on all the rescues; we made most of them. We never saw any unusual equipment. Now, a masquerader might have his high-'tech gear in separate storage, but we'd know if he moved much of it.... I don't know if you can understand, Brierson: We've had total control of their stasis from the beginning. An advanced traveler couldn't tolerate such domination.'

'Okay.' But he wondered if Lu's reaction would be the same.

'Good. Now I want to get your impression of what you saw today. I watched it all myself, but '