Lunzie looked up at him limply. “I thank Muhlah!”

“And now we’re going to do something about you.” He sounded ominous.

Lunzie tensed in a moment of sheer panic which had no basis whatsoever except that Zebara was pounding on the quartz window with one massive palm.

“Flor, tell Bringan to get up here on the double. You look like hell, Lunzie Mespil. Sit tight for the medic.”

Lunzie forced herself to relax when she noticed Zebara regarding her with some amusement.

“So what do we do about you?” he asked rhetorically. “Even on a ship as huge as the ARCT-10, you can’t really be safely hidden. You escaped once but you are unquestionably in jeopardy.” She wished he would sit down instead of looming over her. “Did you get a look at your assailants?”

“A Ryxi female named Birra and a human male she called Knoradel.” She rattled off physical descriptions. “The Ryxi has a crushed rib cage. I left a few marks on the man.”

“They shouldn’t be too hard to apprehend,” Zebara said and depressed a toggle on the board. She heard him giving the descriptions to the Ship Provost. “You won’t object to remaining here until they have been detained? No? Sensible of you.” He regarded her for a long moment and then grinned, looking more like a predatory fish than an amused human. “In fact, it would be even more sensible if you didn’t go back to the ARCT-10 at all.”

“In deep space there aren’t many alternatives,” Lunzie remarked, feeling the weakness of post-Discipline seeping through her.

“I can think of one.” He looked at her expectantly and, when she didn’t respond, gave a disappointed sigh. “You can come back to Ambrosia with us.”

“Ambrosia?” Lunzie wasn’t certain that the planet appealed to her at all.

“An excellent solution since you’re already involved up to your lightweight neck in Ambrosian affairs. Highly appropriate. Assassins won’t get another chance at terminating your life on any ship I command. I’ll clear your reappointment with the ARCT-10 authorities.”

Lunzie was really surprised. Somehow, she had not expected such positive cooperation and solicitousness from this heavyworlder. “Why?”

“You’re in considerable danger. Partly because you gave unstinting assistance to another heavyworlder. I was well acquainted with Orlig. My people are beneficiaries of your risk as much as yours are. Do you have any objections?”

“No,” Lunzie decided. “It’ll be a great relief to be able to sleep safely again.*’ She was beginning to feel weightless, a sure sign that adrenaline exhaustion was taking hold.

Zebara grinned his shark’s-tooth smile again, and crunched another tablet. “If Orlig’s murder and the attempt on your life are an indication, and I believe they are, then Ambrosia may be in even more danger than I thought it was. Orlig was keeping his ears open for me on the ARCT, which was receiving and transmitting my reports. So we’d already had an indication that this plum would fall into the wrong paws. You confirm that. I came back to ask for military support to meet us there to stave off a possible pirate takeover until a colony can be legitimately installed with the appropriate fanfare. Relax, Lunzie Mespil.”

“Thank you,” Lunzie called faintly after him, the weight of her own indecision and insecurity sliding off her sagging shoulders now that someone believed her. She let her head roll back against the cushioned chair.

Soon, she became aware that someone was in the tiny cubicle with her.

“Ah, you’re awake. Don’t move too quickly. I’m setting your arm.” A thickset man with red-blond hair cut short knelt at her side. “I’m Doctor Bringan. Normally I’m just the xenobiologist but I’m not averse to using my talents on known species. I run the checkups and bandage scratches for the crew. Understand you’re signing on as medical officer.” Very gently, he pulled her wrist and forearm in opposite directions. The curled fingers slowly straightened out. “That’ll be a relief,” he added with a welcoming smile. “I might just put the wrong bits together and that could prove awkward for someone.”

“Um, yes,” Lunzie agreed, watching him carefully. Mercifully the arm was numb. He must have given her a nerve block. “Wait, I didn’t hear the bones mesh yet.”

“I’m just testing to see if any of the ligatures were torn. No. All’s well.” Bringan waved a small diagnostic unit over her arm. “You were lucky you were wearing a tight sleeve. The swelling would have been much worse left unchecked.”

“So I see,” Lunzie said, eyeing the reddish wash along the skin of her arm which marked subcutaneous bleeding. It would soon surface as a fading rainbow of colours as the blood dispersed. She poked at the flesh with an experimental finger and, with curious detachment, felt it give. Bringan put the DU in his belt pouch and gave a deft twist to her arm. Lunzie heard the ulna and radius grate slightly as they settled into place.

“I’m going to put you in a non-confining brace to hold your bones steady. Won’t interfere with movement and you can wash the arm, cautiously. Everything will be tender once the nerve block wears off.” He flexed her fingers back and forth. “You should have normal range of motion in a few hours.” Then he gave a snort of a chuckle and eyed her. “I should be telling you!”

She managed a weak, but grateful, smile. “Bringan, are we going to Ambrosia?”

The doctor raised surprised blond brows at her. “Oh, yes indeed we are. Myself, I can’t wait to get back. Why, I intend to put in to settle here when I retire. I’ve never seen such a perfect planet.”

“I mean, are we going soon?” She stressed the last word.

“That’s what I meant.” He gave her a searching look. “Zebara has told me nothing about you, or why you arrive looking like the survivor of a corridor war, but he logged you on FTL. So I can enjoy a few shrewd guesses, most of which include planet pirates.” He winked at her. “Which gives the most excellent of reasons for burning tubes back there. The FSP needs witnesses on hand. Or maybe that’s your role on our roster.”

“I’ll witness, believe you me, I’ll witness,” Lunzie said with all the fervour left in her depleted body.

Bringan chuckled as he gathered up his gear. “If we’re delayed in any way, by any agency, I think Zebara would probably tank himself up and swim back shipless. He’s allergic to the mention of pirates. And bloody piracy’s turning epidemic. It seems to me that every time a real plum turns up in the last century, the pirates are there to wrest it away from the legitimate finders. With a sophisticated violence that makes alien creatures seem like housecats.”