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dead.”
    Aditi spoke up. “That could be quite a while, I suppose.”
    â€œYes, quite a long while. But you’ll be very comfortable here. You’ll see. The military don’t live like Spartans, you know. They like their creature comforts, just as you and I do.”
    â€œOnce we’re on the ground,” Jordan said, “I’d like to contact Mitchell Thornberry and let him know what’s happened.”
    Castiglione frowned. “I’m afraid that communications beyond the perimeter of the base will be impossible. We don’t want anyone to know where you are.”
    Jordan didn’t feel the slightest surprise. But he said, “Thornberry will be worried if we simply disappear. He and Dr. Longyear—”
    â€œWe will contact them and let them know you are under protective custody.”
    â€œCan I talk with Ms. Halleck, at least?”
    â€œAt least?” Castiglione laughed. “The head of the World Council, and you say ‘at least’?”
    Jordan was finding it easy to dislike the man. “At least,” he repeated.
    Nodding, Castiglione said, “Yes, of course you will be able to speak with her. She is very concerned about your safety.”
    â€œI’m sure,” said Jordan.
    *   *   *
    Jordan had to admit that their accommodations were indeed quite comfortable. Not as posh as the hotel, but the quarters Castiglione showed them, on the top floor of a barrackslike cinderblock building, included a king-sized bedroom, a small but neat sitting room, a kitchen, and a modern lavatory.
    â€œYour home away from home,” Castiglione said expansively.
    â€œVery nice,” Jordan replied. Thinly.
    A single robot painted army brown carried a double armful of bags and boxes into the kitchen.
    â€œStocking your refrigerator,” Castiglione explained. “Your clothes and things from the hotel will be arriving soon.”
    Jordan nodded complacently and waited for Castiglione—and the robot—to leave. Once the door shut behind them, he turned to Aditi.
    â€œIt’s been quite a day.”
    She was looking doubtfully up at the ceiling beams. The rooms looked immaculately clean to Jordan, but he wondered if there were microphones or pin-sized cameras hidden here and there.
    As if she understood his anxiety, Aditi said, “I’ve blocked the bugs.”
    Jordan felt his brows hike upward. “You have?”
    Tapping her left temple, Aditi smiled impishly. “They won’t be able to spy on us.”
    â€œWell,” he said, sliding his arms around her waist, “that’s something, I suppose.”

 
    ASSESSMENT
    Jordan looked into Aditi’s eyes. “Are you truly all right?”
    â€œYes,” she said, running a hand along her bare arm. “Not even bruised.”
    â€œWhen that window burst, you didn’t even scream,” he marveled.
    â€œThere was no time. Before I could draw in a breath you were on top of me, protecting me.”
    He shrugged. “It seemed like the right thing to do.”
    Her face grew somber. “They wanted to kill us. To kill me.”
    â€œThey knew where we were,” Jordan murmured. “In that enormous hotel, they knew exactly which window was ours. And they were able to rig cables from the roof, where the helipad is, to get to our window.”
    â€œWhat are you saying, Jordan?”
    Leading her to the cushioned bench that served as a sofa, he said, “They had excellent intelligence. They knew where we were and how to get to us. The helipad workers must have seen them setting up the cables.”
    â€œThey must have thought they were window washers or maintenance people.”
    â€œIn black jumpsuits?”
    Frowning, Aditi repeated, “What are you saying, Jordan?”
    He didn’t answer. Instead, he sat on the less-than-comfortable bench and pulled Aditi down beside him.
    â€œWell?” she