Shelter had been emptied and sealed without incident, but two Entry staffers were still at the main desk, keeping Dryke and his men company. They were not exactly hostages, since discussions were still technically polite, with no hard refusals or locked doors yet tested. But the women’s position was tenuous and their presence was a complication.
“This is the man who killed your father?” asked Anna X.
“Yes,” Christopher said, studying the monitor with hard eyes. “Are you going to give me to him?”
“Do you want me to?”
“No,” Christopher said, shaking his head. “I have to get to Horizon.”
She nodded thoughtfully. “I don’t think he means to allow that.”
“Have you admitted I’m here?”
“We are still discussing technical issues—the validity of his police powers, the status of our agreements with Brazil and Kenya, certification of his warrants—”
“He has warrants this time?”
“Conspiracy and unlawful flight. Purely ceremonial. This is not a question of law. The paperwork is to keep up appearances. The real warrants are his soldiers and the weapons they carry.”
Someone had found Deryn at last, and she came into the room at that moment. “Dryke,” Christopher said to her, gesturing at the screen.
Looking up at Dryke and then at Christopher, Deryn sat down beside Anna X on the open end of the bench. “Are you going to surrender Christopher?”
“I would rather not.”
It was welcome news to Christopher. But there were others in the room, all of whom had dropped into sullen silence when he arrived. Now one spoke up.
“Shelter was meant for women, not for cocks,” she said. “Why are we risking our home for him? It’s not our fight.”
The object of the objection was unmoved. “I would not like it said that either Sanctuary or Anna X can be threatened.”
“Here come the certifications,” called a woman across the room, looking down at a comsole.
Anna X did not stir from her seat. “We’ll take some time to study them, I think.”
“Is there any other way off the station?” asked Christopher.
“Yes. Two ways. They control the passenger side of the hub, but not the freight side. And there is a small slug freighter there. There are also emergency boats, of course.”
“Can either reach Horizon?”
“Either can.”
“Can either reach
Several eyebrows went up.
“No,” Anna X said.
Christopher looked at the docking monitor. The blue and red Transorbital shuttle was clearly visible, anchored to the slender pylon which projected from Sanctuary like the axle from a bicycle wheel. The white docking tunnel angled up to it from the half-gee Entry ring at a forty-degree angle, like a flight of covered stairs. “Can you keep Dryke from leaving?”
She nodded slowly, acknowledgment but not encouragement. “Dryke and the men inside, yes. His shuttle, no.” She smiled faintly. “Run, fight, surrender—all three are possible. As you see, none are attractive. Do you have a preference? Or a solution?”
“Anna,” Deryn said sharply, looking up at the main screen.
The two women were no longer behind the desk. Two of Dryke’s soldiers had them in hand and were walking them briskly across the floor to the opening of tunnel 2, at the end of which lay Dryke’s shuttle.
“Idiot,” Anna X muttered. “Trionna—cut the shuttle loose. Seal the lock.”
On the docking monitor, Christopher saw a smoke-ring puff blow outward from the oval tunnel just a half meter from where it was attached to the shuttle.
Long moments later, the four reappeared in Entry, the soldiers looking more shaken than the staff. An angry Dryke ordered the women to sit on the floor, their faces to a wall, and then turned toward the nearest camera.
“Anna X, I assume that you can hear me—”
Anna X signaled to a technician with her hand. “You’re an impatient man, Mr. Dryke,” she interrupted. “Neither quality is a virtue here.”
“I want Christopher McCutcheon. It’s a simple thing. You have enough documentation to satisfy any conscience you may have. Are you going to give him to me?”
“Mr. McCutcheon is not a possession to be given away. He is a person. He petitioned for Shelter, which was granted. And Sanctuary has never given up a Sheltered person on the demand of any authority.”
“Then you must feel safer than you are,” Dryke answered. “Don’t make this a test of strength. I’m not leaving without him.”
Anna X’s back was up. “Do you think that Sanctuary is a huddle of helpless women? Do you think—”
“Is two enough to make a huddle? Because there are two women here with me who don’t seem particularly powerful at the moment. Two citizens of Sanctuary, I suspect—not visitors. I imagine you can play with the pressure and the lights and the heat and maybe even gas the whole section anytime you please. I just think you should know what will happen if you do. How often have you sacrificed Sanctuary citizens for a male criminal? Would you like to put that question to a plebiscite? I’ll be happy to wait.”
“I know how a community aspiring to your ethics would vote,” Anna X said. “Christopher doesn’t have to fear that from us.”
But looking at the faces around him, Christopher was less certain than Anna X sounded.
“Really. There’s only one reason I can think of that’d account for that—”
“Then you have a sadly stunted imagination.”
“—which is that he isn’t just a visitor, after all. Maybe he’s a friend. Hell, let’s think creatively—maybe he’s not even a he. What about that, Anna? Things aren’t always what they seem, are they? Should we come take a look in your records under Homeworld? Should we look in them for Jeremiah?”
“Off,” said Anna X tersely. “Self-important bastard—is the freighter ready?”
“Yes—on one-minute hold.”
“We’ll use it as a decoy. Send it toward Hanif. Then prepare boat 5 for launch to Horizon—”
“No,” Christopher said, stepping forward. “Stop.”
“Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“He won’t send the shuttle after the freighter. He’ll destroy it if he has a way. And he’ll have a way. He won’t have come up here without being ready to deal with me if I ran.”
“I don’t want to give you to him.”
“He doesn’t want that, either. I only just realized.”
“Explain.”
“I think he wants an excuse to come in here. He’d rather have a chance to ‘accidentally’ kill me, with pawing through your records as a bonus. That’s why he’s baiting you. This isn’t a negotiation.”
“Have you a suggestion? Or a choice?”
“We’re dealing with the wrong person.”
“Explain.”
“It would take too long. Let me talk to Dryke. I think I can get us better terms.”
She studied him skeptically, then vacated her seat for him, standing off to one side. “Are you ready?” He nodded. She stepped back, out of camera, and gave the signal.
Dryke had been having his own side conversation. When he looked up, a mild flicker of surprise crossed his
