Kill Station (34 page)

But there are others elsewhere who might think it was an easy grab." She looked ruefully at Evan. "You boys did a job

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on the defense systems, I can tell you that. Going to cost me a million or so to put them back."

"You can always lease out computer time," Evan said.

She nodded. "I already have a broker on Mars looking over a few contracts. There aren't that many computer installations out this way that have that kind of power. It's a valuable resource. And the SP are paying me a finder's fee on the Takawabara data, so that's a help too. It shouldn't be too long before the station is fully operational as a repair and infoprocessing facility. Give me a year or so."

She looked at him sidewise. "And what about you?" she said. "Now that you're famous all over the solar system for breaking up a dangerous nationalist ring?"

He laughed, but the laugh wasn't entirely happy. "Famous. Never mind that. The SP takes the credit; and that's our agreement with them, so it's no matter." He shrugged. "But after another week, we're back to work. Heaven knows where."

"Is there a way of finding out in advance whether it'll take you out this way?" Mell said.

Evan looked at her, a bit sadly, "Should there be?"

She breathed in, then sighed. "I don't know. Really, I don't. Right now things are a bit hectic. Have been, anyway. ''

"For me, too," Evan said. "But regardless of everything else, you ought to know ... it was splendid."

She glanced up, and smiled, just that slight smile that had made the breath catch in his chest before. It did so now. But then it came loose again, and Evan knew the truth, and smiled back. "For me, too," she said.

"Maybe someday again."

"Maybe," Evan said. It was, after all, a big universe: the words "impossible" and "never" tended to backfire on you. . . .

They looked back at the mad crew still pouring potheen over the ship. "I suppose," Evan said, "if we don't get

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some of that on us, the smell of everyone else is going to drive us nuts for the next week."

"Seems likely." She looked around, and down, and picked something up from beside the sprawling form of Leif the Turk. "Spray-bottle, sir?"

"Don't mind if I do," Evan said, and took it. "And then I know this little Nepalese place—" "You're on," Evan said,

"but first things first." Together they headed over to the ship and started spraying.