an's death hard, aware but
unable to share their grief with words that might
be overheard by their enemy. They were in a somber
mood difficult to hide, and Kumiko's eyes were
red-rimmed. She spoke little.

Moving from one tunnel and gallery hangar to
another, the inspection team had checked the
readiness of command and control, function systems,
weapons readiness, logistic support and all that
bore on their mission. Openly enthusiastic and
congratulatory to ships' crews on what he observed,
Brad was inwardly appalled at the strength of
Narval's fleet. Combined with the INOR forces
coming to join them at Point Icarus, the slim
forces that the UIPS maintained in the Plutonian
Special Zone faced an overwhelming adversary.

At the companionway to the command deck, Brad
deferred to Drummer. Drummer acknowledged
the courtesy with a slight smile and nod. They
ascended, and Brad closed the door.

Drummer strode to the forward bulkhead, paused,
and drew a small device from his pocket. He
moved casually about the compartment, meanwhile
reading the device's indicators. Brad watched him
in silence. After two full turns Drummer pocketed
the device and faced Brad.

"Routine precautions," Drummer said with a shrug.
"This deck compartment is free of both sight and
sound bugs. How did the inspection go? Are we
prepared and on schedule?"

"A few glitches here and there, but nothing
serious. I've instituted corrective actions, and
we'll be ready."

Drummer nodded uneasily. Brad waited. Drummer's
next words came with awkward hesitation.

"Ah -- when Narval gave us his final orders, I
-- ah -- sensed, correct me if I'm wrong, some
misgivings on your part."

"Misgivings? What do you mean?"

"Before we proceed, I must have your word that
whatever we discuss here will be held by you in the
strictest confidence. Have I your word?"

Brad stared long and hard at Drummer. He thought
back to Scarf's accusations and threats preceding
the fight in the Charnel Pit. Did Drummer really
support Narval? What was Drummer's real objective?
Time was short; yet Brad had to be certain.

"You have my word."

"Now respond to my first statement."

"Affirmative."

Drummer gave a heavy sigh and motioned Brad to a
bench along a bulkhead. They sat and stared at the
bulkhead opposite.

"How far will you go to take the Terminals?"
Drummer asked.

"Destructively?"

"Yes."

"You're in command of the combined fleet, Drummer.
You tell