Ascension

community, and loyalty to your home ship is prized above all else.'

'No wonder they kicked you out.'

Pel couldn't tell if his jab stung or not; the quarian's reaction was hidden behind his mask. When he spoke, he continued on as if he hadn't heard the insult.

'I'm surprised you haven't been able to pry the information out of him. I assumed you would be well versed in getting prisoners to talk.'

'Torture's not much good if your subject is delusional and hallucinating,' Pel answered, a little more defensive than he intended.

'He caught some kind of virus or something. Now he's mad with fever,' he continued, his voice becoming dark and dangerous. 'Probably happened when you cracked his mask.'

'Allow me to make amends,' Golo replied, un-fazed. 'This new offer is one I don't think you'll want to turn down. Perhaps we can go inside and talk?'

'No chance,' Pel shot back. 'Wait here. I'll be back in five minutes.'

He picked up the bag again, then stared pointedly at the quarian until he turned away. Once he was sure the alien wasn't looking, he punched in the access code for the door and stepped inside.

It was actually closer to ten minutes when he reemerged, but Golo was still waiting for him. Pel was half hoping he would have grown frustrated and left.

'I'm still curious, friend,' the quarian said by way of greeting. 'What was in the bag?'

'None of your business. And we're not friends.'

In actuality, the bag had contained nothing more than ordinary groceries. There was a full stock of rations and emergency supplies inside the base, and while they were nutritionally adequate for survival, they were bland and tasteless. Fortunately, Pel had discovered a shop in a nearby district that stocked traditional human cuisine. Every three days he took the monorail to the store and bought enough food to keep his team well fed and happy. It wasn't cheap, but it was an expense he had no trouble justifying to Cerberus. Humans deserved real human food, not some processed alien mishmash.

There was no harm in sharing this information with the quarian, of course, but Pel wanted to keep their relationship adversarial. It was to his advantage if Golo wasn't sure where he stood.

'You said you had some kind of proposal,' he prompted.

Golo looked around, clearly nervous. 'Not here. Somewhere private.'

'What about that gambling hall you took me to last time? Fortune's Den?'

The quarian shook his head. 'That particular district is currently under an ownership dispute. The batarians are trying to push the volus out. Too many shootings and bombings for my taste.'

Par for the damn course, Pel thought to himself. 'Violence is inevitable when different species try to live side by side,' he said aloud, spouting a common Cerberus axiom. If the Alliance could ever figure that out we wouldn't need someone like the Illusive Man to watch out for us.

'This opportunity is quite tempting,' Golo assured him. 'Once you hear the terms I'm sure you'll be interested.'

Pel just crossed his meaty arms and stared at the quarian, waiting.

'It involves the Collectors,' Golo whispered, leaning in slightly.

After a long pause, Pel sighed and turned back to the warehouse door. 'All right. Let's go inside.'*

Thirteen

'You are cleared for approach on dock four. Over.'

Grayson made a slight course adjustment to comply with the traffic control tower's instructions, and brought his shuttle in to the Grissom Academy's exterior landing bay. The medium-range passenger vessel he was piloting on this visit was slightly smaller, and far less luxurious, than the corporate shuttle he normally used for his visits. But these were hardly normal circumstances.

For this journey he had come alone, in the guise of a frantic father rushing to the side of his gravely ill child. It wasn't a hard role for him to play, given how he felt about Gillian. His concern for her was genuine. But depending how much Jiro had told them, it might not matter.

He waited impatiently at the shuttle doors for the docking platform to connect, then went quickly into the large, glass-walled waiting room. There were no other passengers waiting for clearance, and the two Alliance guards posted by the exit signaled him to come forward. He could see Dr. Sanders and the Project Ascension security chief waiting for him on the other side of the transparent, bulletproof wall.

'Go on in, Mr. Grayson,' one of the guards told him in a sympathetic voice, not even bothering with a cursory search as he waived him through.

Grayson chose to take that as a good sign.

'Are you sure you're up for this?' Kahlee whispered to Hendel as Grayson made his way through the security screening room. 'You still look a little unsteady on your feet.'

'I'm fine,' he whispered back. 'Besides, I want to see how he reacts when we tell him the news.'

Kahlee wanted to say something back to him, like, You cant seriously think Grayson won't care about his daughter almost being killed! But Grayson was through security now, and he would have heard her. So she bit her tongue and prayed that Hendel would have the good sense to treat his arrival with the proper courtesy.

'Mr. Grayson,' Hendel said with a curt nod.

'Where's Gillian?' he asked immediately. 'I want to see my daughter.'

Not surprisingly, he looked much worse than the last time they had seen him. He wasn't wearing a suit this time, but was dressed in a pair of denim pants and a simple short-sleeved shirt, revealing his thin, sinewy arms. He had what looked to be at least a few days worth of stubble growing on his chin. There was a desperate gleam in his eye and an air of nervous apprehension hung about him. . not surprising, given what had happened.

'Of course,' Kahlee said quickly, before Hendel could offer any objections. She wasn't about to let Grayson wait around here in the hall. There would be time enough for discussion later, after he had seen Gillian.

Hendel cast her an annoyed glance, but all he said was 'Follow me.'

Nobody spoke as they made their way to the hospital room, though she could see the muscles along HendePs throat flexing as he clenched and unclenched his jaw.

When they reached the hospital room Grayson stopped. One hand slowly came up to cover his mouth at the sight of the young girl lying in bed, hooked up to half a dozen machines.

'Oh, Gigi,' he whispered, and the pain in his voice wrenched at Kahlee's heart.

'What are all those machines for?' he asked a moment later, his voice shaky.

'They're just monitors,' Kahlee explained, trying to keep her voice professionally optimistic. 'So we can keep an eye on her.'

Grayson stepped into the room, moving slowly, as if he was suddenly underwater. He knelt down at the side of her bed and reached out with a hand, placing it not on her head but on the sheets just above her shoulder.

'Oh, Gigi. . what did they do to you?' he muttered.

At the sound of his voice Gillian's eyes fluttered open and she turned her head to face him.

'Daddy,' she said, her voice weak but obviously happy to see him.

Hendel and Kahlee kept their distance, giving him time with his daughter.

'I heard what happened,' he told her. 'I was so scared.'

'It's okay,' she assured him, reaching over to pat him on the hand. 'I'm okay now.'

It was hard to say which of the adults was more stunned by the simple gesture. In all the years Gillian had been at the Grissom Academy, Kahlee had never seen her actually initiate physical contact with another person. Gillian herself seemed oblivious to their reaction, as she let her hand drop back down to her side and closed her eyes.

'I'm tired,' she mumbled. 'I need to sleep now.'

A few seconds later she was snoring softly. Grayson stared at her for several long moments before standing