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you have made on Aristos, the
consistency of those reports with other files on the same Aristos, all reports
made on Aristos by other officers, the consistency of those reports with one
another for the same Aristo, and the consistency of your reports on other
matters as compared with the consistency of other officers’ reports. Based on
my calculations, I estimate a ninety-five percent accuracy to your observations.”
    I smiled. “You’ve been a busy computer.”
    “Can it figure out why the Aristo is here?” Taas asked.
    “I estimate a one in two probability that he wants an
unusual provider,” Comtrace said. “Probability one in three he was curious
about Delos, one in eleven he is spying on the Allieds, one in sixteen that his
ship needed repairs.”
    “You think he was trying to trick me into going with him?” I
asked.
    “Probability one in four hundred fifty. Your military status
was obvious. To believe you would be deceived by such a trick would require a
naivete unlikely to be found in an Aristo.”
    “What do you think is the chance he told the truth, that he
just wanted a date with me?”
    “Probability one in seven thousand.” Comtrace paused. “If he
is searching for providers, I calculate a ninety-three percent probability he
was practicing on you.”
    It sounded plausible, given the data. Except I didn’t
believe it. I had no justification for my doubt, but it persisted just the
same.
    Rex leaned over the console. “Why such a low probability for
his being a spy?”
    “It is considered beneath the station of a Highton to engage
in covert operations,” Comtrace said. “Unless those operations relate directly
to the acquisition of political power. Given the close proximity of Delos to
Tams Station and the current crisis on Tams, a Highton might come here to
discover if the Allieds have any connection to the situation. Such information
could prove useful in political maneuvers.”
    So. It was ironic that Tams, a small mining station, had
come to such prominence. Only six hundred million people lived there,
descendents of an ancient Raylican colony that had doggedly struggled to keep
its independence from all of us, Skolian, Trader, and Allied alike. Fifteen
years ago the Eubians had claimed the planet. They managed to manipulate the
political situation so that any overt response on our part would put us in
violation of our tenuous treaties with them.
    “Comtrace, what is your latest information on Tams?” I
asked.
    “IMIN reports indicate the rebels have captured the planet’s
ground based defenses.”
    I had expected as much. We had other ways to offer aid
besides overt methods. It wasn’t luck that allowed the “untrained” leaders of
the Tams rebellion to capture and hold sophisticated Eubian defense
installations on their planet.
    “How have the Traders responded?” I asked.
    “Eubian saboteurs have destroyed the Red Hills factories,”
Comtrace said. “Also the warehouses in the Sandrise, Docker, and Metalworks
districts. They have gutted the drive mechanisms and Evolving Intelligence
pilots of all space-worthy ships in both Tams starports.”
    Rex blew out a gust of air. “Effective.”
    “Why?” Taas asked. “What are the Red Hills factories?”
    I glanced at him. “They are—or were—the only factories on
Tams equipped to build replacement parts for starship inversion drives. The
warehouses are where any completed parts would have been stored.”
    “If the rebels control the planetary defenses,” Helda said, “they
can bring in ships with new EI’s and engine parts.”
    “Not if the Traders control enough of the orbital defenses,”
Rex said. “They and the rebels may be at a standoff.”
    “Comtrace,” I said, “what is the official Trader position on
the situation?”
    “That no uprising exists,” Comtrace said.
    Helda spoke drily. “Why do I have no surprise at this?”
    “A recording of Ur Qox’s last speech is available,” Comtrace
said. “Shall I