Horza switched his gaze rapidly from one woman to the other. Yalson was leaning forward over the table, her eyes glittering

in the mess-

room light, her fists clenched. Her lean body seemed tensed, the golden down on her dark skin shining. Balveda

looked uncertain and

confused. Horza saw her start to bite her lip, then stop.

“I wouldn’t kid you about it, Yalson," Horza assured her. “Horza is alive and well, and not very far away." Horza looked at

the repeater screen

on his suit cuff, where the time showed. “As a matter of fact, I’m meeting him at one of the port reception

spheres in… well, just before the GSV

takes off. He said he had one or two things to work out in the city first. He said to

say… ahhh… he hoped you were still betting on him…." He

shrugged. “Something like that."

“You’re not kidding!" Yalson said, her face creasing with a smile. She shook her head, put a hand through her hair, slapped

the table softly a

couple of times. “Oh…" she said, then sat back again in her seat. She looked from the woman to the man

and shrugged, silent.

“So you see, Gravant, you just aren’t needed right now," Horza told Balveda. The Culture agent opened her mouth, but it was

Yalson who

spoke first, coughing quickly and then saying:

“Oh, let her stay, Kraiklyn. What difference does it make."

“The difference, Yalson," Horza said carefully, thinking hard about Kraiklyn, “is that I am captain of this ship."

Yalson seemed about to say something, but instead she turned to Balveda and spread her hands. She sat back, one hand picking

at the

edge of the table, her eyes lowered. She was trying not to smile too much.

“Well, Captain," Balveda said, rising from her seat, “you do know best. I’ll get my gear." She walked quickly from the mess.

Her footsteps

merged with others, and Horza and Yalson both heard some muffled words. In a moment, Dorolow, Wubslin and Aviger,

gaily dressed and

looking flushed and happy, piled into the mess, the older man with his arm around the small, plump woman.

“Our captain!" Aviger shouted. Dorolow held one of his hands at her shoulder. She smiled. Wubslin waved dreamily; the stocky

engineer

looked drunk. “Been at the wars, I see," Aviger went on, staring at Horza’s face, which still showed signs of being

in a fight, despite his internal

attempts to minimize the damage.

“What has Gravant done, Kraiklyn." Dorolow squeaked. She seemed merry, too, and her voice was even higher than he remembered

it.

“Nothing," Horza said, smiling at the three mercenaries. “But we’re getting Horza Gobuchul back from the dead, so I decided

we didn’t need

her."

“

Horza.

" Wubslin said, his large mouth opening wide in an almost exaggerated expression of surprise. Dorolow looked past Horza at

Yalson, the look on her face saying, “Is this true." through her grin. Yalson shrugged and looked happily, hopefully, still

slightly suspiciously, at

the man she thought was Kraiklyn.

“He’ll be coming aboard shortly before the

Ends

leaves," Horza said. “He had some sort of business in the city. Maybe something shady."

Horza smiled in the condescending

way Kraiklyn sometimes had. “Who knows."

“There," Wubslin said, looking unsteadily at Aviger over Dorolow’s stooped frame. “Maybe that guy was looking for Horza. Maybe

we

should warn him."

“What guy. Where." Horza asked.

“He’s seeing things," Aviger said, waving one hand. “Too much liverwine."

“

Rubbish!

" Wubslin said loudly, looking from Aviger to Horza, and nodding. “And a drone." He held both hands out in front of his face,

palms

together, then separated them by about a quarter-meter. “Little bugger. No bigger’n that."

“Where." Horza shook his head. “Why do you think somebody might be after Horza."

“Out there, under the traveltube," Aviger said, while Wubslin was saying:

“Way he came out of that capsule, like he expected to be in a fight any second, and… aww, I can just

tell

… that guy was… police… or

something.

…"

“What about Mipp." asked Dorolow. Horza was silent for a second, frowning at nothing and nobody in particular. “Did Horza

mention

Mipp." Dorolow asked him.

“Mipp." he said, looking at Dorolow. “No." He shook his head. “No, Mipp didn’t make it."

“Oh, I’m sorry," Dorolow said.

“Look," Horza said, staring at Aviger and Wubslin, “you think there’s somebody out there looking for one of us."

“A man," Wubslin nodded slowly, “and a little, tiny, really

mean

looking drone."

With a chill, Horza recalled the insect which had settled momentarily on his wrist in the smallbay outside, just before he

had boarded the

CAT.

The Culture, he knew, had machines—artificial bugs—that size.

“Hmm," Horza said, pursing his lips. He nodded to himself, then looked at Yalson. “Go and make sure Gravant gets off the ship,

quickly, all

right." He stood up and got out of the way while Yalson moved. She went down the corridor to the cabins. Horza

looked at Wubslin and

motioned the engineer forward toward the bridge, with his eyes. “You two stay here," he said quietly

to Aviger and Dorolow. Slowly they let go of

each other and sat down in a couple of seats. Horza went through to the bridge.

He pointed Wubslin to the engineer’s seat and sat down in the pilot’s. Wubslin sighed heavily. Horza closed the door, then

quickly reeled

through all he had learned about the procedures on the bridge during the first weeks he had been aboard the

CAT.

He was reaching forward to

open the communicator channels when something moved under the console, near his feet. He froze.

Wubslin peered down, then bent with an audible effort and stuck his big head down between his legs. Horza smelled drink.

“Haven’t you finished

yet

." Wubslin’s muffled voice said.

“They took me off to another job; I only just got back," wailed a small, thin, artificial voice. Horza sat back in his seat

and looked under the

console. A drone, about two thirds the size of the one which had escorted him from the elevator to the

CAT

’s bay, was disentangling itself from

a jumble of fine cables protruding from an open inspection hatch.

“What," Horza said, “is

that.

"

“Oh," Wubslin said wearily, belching, “same one that’s been here… you remember. Come on, you," he said to the machine. “The

captain

wants to do a communication test."

“Look," the little machine said, its synthesized voice full of exasperation, “I have fi

nished.

I’m just tidying everything

away.

"

“Well, get a move on," Wubslin said. He withdrew his head from underneath the console and looked apologetically at Horza.

“Sorry,

Kraiklyn."

“Never mind, never mind." Horza waved his hand. He powered up the communicator. “Ah…" He looked at Wubslin. “Who’s controlling

traffic

movements around here. I’ve forgotten who to ask for. What if I want the bay doors opened."

“Traffic. Doors opened." Wubslin looked at Horza with a puzzled expression. He shrugged and said, “Well, just traffic control,

I suppose,

like when we came in."

“Right," Horza said; he flicked the switch on the console and said, “Traffic control, this is…" His voice trailed off.

He’d no idea what Kraiklyn had called the

CAT

instead of its real name. He hadn’t got that as part of the information he’d bought, and it was

one of the many things he

had meant to learn once he’d accomplished the most immediate task of getting Balveda off the ship, and with luck

following

a false trail. But the news that there might be somebody looking for him in this bay—or anybody, for that matter—had rattled

him. He