Page 36 of Enthraller

“Is it?” Ed couldn’t keep the humor out of his voice.

“You think it’s me? You think this is a joke?” Banks turned on him in an instant, fists clenched.

“Who else could have set the devices but you? You’re the one who allocated our rooms, and you said yourself over and over at dinner that you forgot to tell anyone we’d be coming up.” Ed lifted both hands.

“Shit.” Banks lifted his hands and cupped the back of his neck, biceps bunching. “I didn’t set them.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about,” Ed said. “Just like last time.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Banks hissed.

“It means I’ve been thinking about your attitude toward me since I got up on station, and what happened last time I was here, and I’ve got to wondering what your role in all that might have been.”

Banks shot him a horrified look and began to back away. “You leave me alone. And make sure you account for all the equipment you use. SF headquarters needs to replace anything you take.”

Ed looked back at Wren, who was standing, head bent over her work, at the far end of the room. “No problem.”

“You should have stayed away, Ed. You should have kept your head down.”

Ed turned all his attention back to Banks. “What do you know about it? Who’s pulling your strings?”

“No one.” Banks was already in the corridor, and he shook his head. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He strode away.

“What’s got him so het up?”

Ed stepped into the corridor and looked toward the canteen. The academic they’d seen going into the kitchen earlier stood in the passageway. She was holding a bowl of fruit.

“Laschka, right?” he asked, recalling the introductions they’d exchanged at dinner.

“Yes. And you’re Ed. Easy to remember.” Laschka nodded down the hall. “Why’s Banks looking like he’s lost home leave privileges?”

“He and I have a history.” Ed leaned against the door jamb. “He didn’t like being reminded of it.”

“That sounds like a story, but I’m guessing you’re not going to tell it?” Laschka said. She was a tall woman, only a little shorter than he was, and she was wearing soft lounge clothes, had her hair, which had been twisted up in a neat coil at dinner, tumbling loose around her shoulders. She lifted a carda, a small, round fruit that was a shade or two redder than her lips, and popped it into her mouth suggestively.

Ed grinned. “I’m afraid not. I’m here with Wren.”

He made it clear the ’with’ had many meanings.

“Ah well. Pickings are slim up here,” Laschka said cheerfully. “Can’t blame me for trying.”

“How long have you been up here?” Ed asked. That would be an interesting piece of information.

“Almost three months. It was a real scramble. Jens—that’s Professor Ludlow—said he’d got data from some freighters that looked promising, and there was a grant going, and suddenly we were up here.” She blew a strand of hair out of her eyes, her hands full of the over-large fruit bowl. “But unfortunately, I’m going to have to withdraw soon.”

“Are you needed at home?” Ed asked.

She paused, then blew out another breath. “I’m feeling strangely inclined toward honesty with you,” she said. “I’m going because Ludlow’s premise is crap. I’ve tried to go along to get along, but if I stay here much longer, my professional reputation is going to be tarnished. There’s nothing in his claims. It’s a dead end.”

Well, well.

“He won’t accept that?” Ed asked, keeping his tone conciliatory.

She shook her head. “I don’t understand why not. I’ve never known him to be so unwilling to see the facts in front of him.”

Unless of course he had a completely different agenda.

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