Chapter Five

"Isn't that Commodore Wilcox?"

Alex looked where Evan was indicating and nodded. "Yep, that's him." He sipped his coffee and nodded with his chin. "What do you make of him?"

Glancing down over the railing in front of the café table they were breakfasting at, Evan looked more closely at the large, round man. He was laughing at something another man had said. White hair and plenty of it, along with lines around his eyes and the corners of his mouth suggested a smile or outright laugh would be a normal sight there. His pants were expensive, dark brown, and somewhat wrinkled around the seat. Tucked into them, a lighter brown shirt looked as if it had been slept in from the back, but the front was pristine and loose. Evan put the image together with what little he'd already heard of the man.

"He's rich, but he isn't exactly sure how rich. A happy guy, but not stupid. I'm guessing your mother doesn't like him much." Evan turned to look at Alex and saw humor sparkling in his green eyes.

"You're right, she doesn't." Alex grinned. "She puts up with him because he's disgustingly wealthy. But he doesn't have the manners she prefers."

"Like you."

Alex laughed lightly. "Yeah, like me. He's a nice guy, though. Doesn't like gossip the way his wife does, which is why the woman's not vacationing with him."

He would have been the better financial backer, had Spencer not been in complete control of everything regarding the Pendulum Nebula. But that was then. No sense bringing up old wounds not yet healed.

Alex suppressed a yawn and glanced at the contents of his cup. "How about a game of chess?"

There were no battle chess tables in the rooms, but one of the many alcoves in the wide corridors sported gaming tables and afforded the occupants a decent amount of privacy for conversation or deep concentration. The first two games went to Evan, somewhat easily, the third to Alex, but the fourth was bordering on a stalemate after nearly an hour. He found Alex's strategy hard to adapt to, and constantly changing in response to his own moves. The man was his equal in the game, as few people had ever been, and he enjoyed the rounds they'd played passing time on the Ascalon as much as his Keeper had.

Evan made his move after much study, but even so it was becoming apparent Alex was most likely going to win this one. Unless he made a mistake in his concentration, they were going to be tied. Time for another strategy.

"I don't know how you can stand that thing."

"Huh?" Alex refused to look away from the board.

Evan tapped the small hollow on his own lower lip, just above the chin, where Alex consistently sported a small amount of what could barely be described as goatee. "That."

Alex gave him a quick glance. "Doesn't bother me." His attention returned instantly to the board with a slight shrug of one shoulder.

Evan calculated the two moves available, watching his Keeper for any sign of discovery in his eyes or body language. "Makes you look defiant." He paused. It was going to take more than this to distract the man. "Probably why your mother thinks you're a brat."

At that, Alex grinned. "I am a brat." He reached for a piece, then hesitated, considering.

That move would result in a win. Evan reviewed his options, deciding against anything that might stir up bad memories. That's what Spencer would have him do, hurt his opponent in any way possible to insure a win.

He'd rather lose.

"You're gonna have to do better than that." Alex reached out and made the move, then leaned back and smiled in a very smug fashion. "To distract me, that is."

Evan had to suppress a laugh. He shook his head and admitted defeat. "We're tied."

Alex was still grinning. "How about discussing strategy over dinner? Then we can work this tie off."

"You're on."

They stood and walked back out into the corridor, and once again nearly ran headlong into Commodore Wilcox.

"Alex! Perfect timing, I was just heading to your quarters to see if you'd join me for dinner?" The Commodore smiled warmly at them both, eyebrows arched questioningly.

"Commodore, we were just about to head off to dinner, as a matter of fact." Alex gave Evan a look and one raised eyebrow, then turned back to the larger man. "We'd love to join you."

"Wonderful!" Commodore Wilcox's smile widened. He turned, wedging himself between both men, and slapped an arm around each of their shoulders, effectively escorting them back to the dining section.

Since all meals and amenities were included in the price of each passenger's ticket, the notion of someone treating you to a meal was moot. Tickets for a cruise on the Newton III were enough to provide for a family of three for about six months, so it was no surprise when Commodore Wilcox picked the highest quality restaurant the ship had to offer. It wasn't something Alex would have chosen, but Evan couldn't help notice how at ease his Keeper was, regardless of the obvious wealth of the other patrons. He wasn't sure how much of that was Alex, or his growing acceptance of the prestige associated with owning a Sha'erah, but he tended to believe -- based on his knowledge of the man -- that it was the former.

"I caught up on some news reading last night." The Commodore sat back, twirling the brandy around the sides of his glass. "Interesting bit of business out there, what with the Vision and all."

Evan felt his face go cold. They'd avoided any mention of Spencer, the Vision, even the turncoats left behind after their betrayal had been discovered. So far, the Commodore hadn't asked.

"Nebulas are an interesting phenomenon, Commodore." Alex seemed to be playing along, waiting for him to make direct mention of it.

"And what's this I hear of a mutiny?" He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and shook his head slowly from side to side. "I simply can't believe any crew of yours would do such a thing, and yet -- the evidence is right there."

Evan relaxed muscles tensed in anticipation.

Alex laughed shortly. "Well, sir, I suppose it had to happen some time. These things aren't as rare as we captains would like everyone to believe."

He raised the brandy glass in a toast. "Here's to secrets! Damn well served me all these years, eh?" His laugh echoed through the quiet dining area and reverberated off the clinking of their glasses. "Take the money and walk away quietly, I always say. The investors are drooling over that Turbidium find, I'd expect. Got them going good, you did. "

Alex smiled, then finished his drink.

Both of them had chosen beer instead of the headier brandy the Commodore was nursing. If Evan stood any chance at all of winning their tie breaker, he needed a clear head. All hopes of Alex softening his senses was lost when he'd chosen coffee with the meal. Okay, he wanted to play hard ball, win this last game to carry a victory into the next day. Evan was game.

"Well, you two gentlemen have been more than patient, entertaining an old man." The Commodore slapped the table and stood, forcing his chair back and nearly tripping a waiter who hadn't seen the move coming. "I thank you for your company, Alex." He reached out a large hand and pumped Alex's warmly, then turned to Evan and did the same. "Evan, good to know you, man. I have a feeling the two of you are going to go far. Keep me up to date on your adventures, you hear me?"

Alex laughed, nodding. "Yes, sir, we will."

"All right then." With a final smile, Commodore Wilcox began wandering off, as if he'd forgotten why he was standing there in the first place. Suddenly he waved an arm and bellowed toward the far end of the dining room. "Lydia, you old goat! Good to see you up and about."

All eyes were focused on the large, loud man jovially wandering through the dining room toward a startled woman in the back while Alex and Evan left, walking back out to the relative quiet of the common area.

"And that, was Commodore Wilcox," Alex grinned.

They returned to the gaming table in the corridor alcove and worked on breaking the tie for the next hour. All bets were off this time, and each man spent as much time trying to break his opponent's concentration as he did trying to win. In the end, after several comments, quips, and one truly odd mentioning of the pattern of Evan's tattoo, they had to admit to a stalemate.

"Guess we're both just too good for our own good." Alex shrugged and turned off the display, then stretched and stood.

"Or we're both just tired from two hours in the gym."

"Yeah, that's true. Must be off our game or something."

"Not that stalemating isn't a good thing," Evan quickly added, sensing his Keeper's ego edging out.

"Depends on the battle." Alex grinned, then palmed open the door to their rooms. "How are you at rock climbing?"

Evan blinked. He'd actually never done it before in his life, real or simulated. Apparently that's what Alex wanted to do next. "I can hold my own."

"Good." Alex started peeling off his shirt and kicking both shoes off as he headed toward his bedroom. "Wonder what Zane's doing for fun."

Evan walked to the wall where incoming and outgoing messages were stored, placed his palm over the input pad, and put Doctor Zane's name in the forefront of his thoughts. Within seconds, he located two messages telling them he was attending conferences all week long on deck C, and three areas on that deck where the doctor had checked in and ordered meals. He pulled his hand away before the entire menu of items the man had ordered during the last two days could flood his thoughts.

"He's enjoying himself."

"I suppose that's what he considers fun." Alex came out of his room, dressed only in the pants he'd been wearing and carrying his PDA.

"A man like him, I'm sure it is." Evan suppressed a yawn and ran a hand through his black hair. As usual, the silvery metal that made up his left palm created a small amount of static electricity, tickling the top of his scalp.

"Yeah, I guess -- Shit!"

Evan reacted to his Keeper's sudden alertness before he even registered the exclamation. "What?" He moved instantly to the couch where Alex was sitting, staring at the small screen of the PDA.

"Someone tried to get in." Alex handed the small machine over, pointing to the screen where a small red light blinked. "Remotely, I think. Or while we were working out. It was in the locker in my pants."

Evan knew there was no one who could have gotten past his security, but he took the cautious approach from the start, in order to avoid accidentally erasing or skipping by a significant piece of evidence. If Alex was still speaking, he couldn't hear him.

With his left palm snugly over the PDA's input pad, Evan envisioned the virtual padlocks to see which one showed marks of tampering. There were three that had definitely been hit, protecting Alex's private numbers, his personal itinerary, and his bank statements. The one showing the most damage, was the itinerary. Evan mentally felt over the first two, confirming there were no actual breaches, then altered the configuration. Whoever had tried to get in might have been thwarted, but if they were this good in the first place, they could learn from their mistakes and try again.

Once he was satisfied with his results, he concentrated on the itinerary. That lock hadn't been completely breached, but there was the slightest "hole" off to one side. It was possible, though still highly unlikely, that whoever was trying to get in did manage to see through the crack.

Evan was the best. That wasn't ego, that was fact. His Sha'erah adaptations allowed him access and abilities most people, even brilliant computer programming minds, couldn't completely comprehend. Evan had to admit even he didn't fully understand the details, since it was like inhaling to him. But he knew he was that good. For someone to have gotten this far, they had to be as good. They couldn't be better. It wasn't possible.

Evan mentally walked up to the small hole and looked inside. Visible from there were Alex's check-in times when the Ascalon was brought back from the nebula and booked into the Scotian shipyards. If he looked carefully, he could make out the Newton III, but no times, docks or destinations.

He put the proper thoughts into the forefront of his mind and the locks opened willingly for their master, allowing him full access. From the inside, he "looked" back at the locks, checking the damage pattern.

A cold chill ran down his spine. The markings were familiar. Too familiar. Someone was playing hardball, but who? And why?

Evan removed the lock entirely, then built another one, using completely different data that would effectively erase any headway the would-be thief had made. By the time he finished triple checking his new locks and searching for any signs of missed tampering, he was sweating.

He blinked, moving his now shaking left hand away from the PDA, and focused on a very worried face with bright green eyes and brown hair, staring intently at him from a kneeling position in front of the couch he was sitting on.

"Hey, are you with me? Evan?"

He had to lick lips dried beyond speaking. "Someone tried to get in." His voice cracked with the last word and his hands shook when he tried to wipe the sweat from his face.

Alex lifted a glass of cold water and took Evan's right hand, forcing it around the glass. "You were in there for thirty minutes, I couldn't even get you to respond." He took the PDA out of his other hand and set it on the table.

"I was -- "

Alex stopped his reply with a stern order. "Drink!"

Dutifully he took a swallow and noted the slightly flavored additives. Obviously it wasn't just water. After a glance at his Keeper, he finished the glass and felt the restoratives already calming muscles exhausted by stress.

"Whoever it was could have gotten in if he'd kept at it."

Alex looked confused. He took the empty glass from Evan's hand and set it on the table, but stayed where he was, kneeling on the floor. "How? I thought you set up security no one could get by?"

"I did." He still couldn't believe what he'd seen. "They didn't get in, but they were close."

"How close?"

Evan swallowed. "Close enough." He shook his head, frustration and anger beginning to overcome his shocked surprise. "I stopped them with new locks, completely new. If they try again, they'll be back where they started and I can stop them from getting anywhere." God, he was tired! And he was slipping. He should have checked Alex's PDA daily. Maybe even more often than that. He just wished there was a way for the PDA to tell him directly, from no matter where it was. There should be a way to do that, he'd have to check into it.

Alex stood, then took hold of Evan's left arm. "Come on, you're wasted."

"I should see if I can -- "

"No." Alex ignored his protests, pulling him off the couch. "You're going straight to bed. No arguments!"

The headache hit then, hard and pounding from such intense concentration. Evan hadn't intended to use Alex's supporting hands, but he found his legs a bit too shaky to support his body alone. "I'll be fine in a few minutes."

"You're sleeping in tomorrow, then we can stay here and work on this if we have to." Alex directed the Sha'erah straight into the bedroom, not letting go of his arm until he was sitting on the bed. "Mountain climbing can wait."

Mountain climbing for the first time in his life would seem like a cake-walk after what he'd just done. Evan nodded. "I set audible alarms, let me keep the PDA in here, so I'll hear them if he tries again."

"You think he will?" Alex walked back out to retrieve the small unit, then set it on the small table beside the bed. "Never mind, we can talk about this after you get some sleep. You're pale."

"I'm fine, just tired." Actually, the restorative drink was already doing wonders, bringing his muscles back to normal control and eliminating all shakiness.

Alex hesitated, looking down at him from the foot of the bed. "All right, just get some sleep. I mean it. No fussing with that thing unless it beeps, or whatever."

Evan nodded. It was as close to an order as he was likely to get from Alex, but meant as exactly that. And, as if to ensure it was followed, his Keeper remained in the room, helping Evan get undressed and comfortably settled on the bed. When he assured Alex he was beginning to feel the drifting of sleep, his Keeper reluctantly returned to his own room.

Alone, Evan stared up at the ceiling and walked through the memory of what he'd seen inside the PDA. And what he'd seen still didn't make sense. There wasn't a reason he could imagine for someone to want to break into the private files of Alex Marcase, let alone his current itinerary or private banking files. Before the expedition, when there was a find as important as Turbidium at stake, he could understand a bit of corporate piracy. When Signus Harvey had made his attempt, it was so clumsy it set off even the meager security Alex had already programmed.

The measures Evan took should have been not only completely tamper proof, but virtually invisible to anyone trying to get inside. Anyone looking for a way in would have found none, but also never found the locks keeping them from sight. Even those well versed in virtual mind/computer interfaces didn't understand how a Sha'erah with his abilities did what he did. When they went inside, they were still thinking like a human and trying to act like a computer.

When Evan went inside, he was the computer.

Whoever had done this, was also Sha'erah. It was the only logical conclusion to come to. But not one he wanted to mention to his Keeper yet. Not until he had more information, or at least more control over his thoughts than he'd had when he came out on that couch, sweating and shaking like a child.

The other thought dancing around in his brain was even more upsetting. If it was a Sha'erah, and logic said it had to be, then he or she was acting on someone's orders. They were on their way to see Regian Kellman, a Keeper, but he didn't know they were coming. In fact, no one did. Not even Paulson Carpenter. He'd known they were interested in locating the source, and that they might visit VanHolt. But neither of them were Keepers, and neither would have known about Kellman.

Could there possibly be another Keeper onboard the cruise ship? He hadn't caught sight of any other Sha'erah, but then again, he hadn't been looking specifically for one. Not that it was easy for them to hide. Unless he didn't want to be seen.

Evan rolled over and shoved a fist angrily into his pillow. If this Sha'erah who tried to break into Alex's files was as good as he was, then he could be in the next room and be hiding as easily as Evan could. But it still didn't answer why. And until he found more information, he knew nothing would.

Morning came eventually, and gave Evan a reason to get out of bed and into the shower. No alarms had gone off indicating another break-in attempt, but he was too restless to spend much time under the hot spray of water. He dressed in black pants and a long sleeved, pull-over shirt and padded barefoot out to the living area, PDA in hand. Alex was in the shower, so he dialed up a breakfast order to be delivered in thirty minutes, dispensed a cup of hot coffee and directed more to be standing by at all times.

Their vacation was over. At least until he could get to the bottom of this. With coffee and PDA in hand, Evan walked to the couch and sat down. It was all his fault, he knew that. Letting his guard down.

With a deep breath and a taste of the hot coffee, Evan flipped open the PDA. The status light was green, blinking quietly at him from the lower right corner. Okay so far. He rested his left hand over the unit. Data bytes and flashes of color replaced the room, stretching out before him like a roadmap of misdirection. The sense of hearing that wasn't required during operations such as these picked up Alex coming out of his bedroom, banging against the door on his way out.

Evan focused momentarily on the room around him and saw his Keeper, cursing and rubbing his knee, walk to the dispenser for coffee. Dressed only in sweat pants and a loose-fitting pullover shirt, he looked half asleep.

"Did you get any sleep last night?"

Evan pulled himself out of the PDA completely and nodded, sipping his own still hot coffee. "Enough."

Alex grunted some kind of acknowledgment and padded barefoot to the table. "You're not gonna over do it or anything, are you?"

"I need to find out how this happened, and make sure it never happens again."

"Yeah, but you're not gonna over do it again, are you?" Alex blinked several times as if he was still trying to force himself awake. "We can just hang out in here all day and relax, if that's what you're worried about. I need to do a little research anyway." He pointed to the computer embedded in the table.

"Someone came close to breaking through my security, and into your files." Evan felt his anger building again, mixing with internal recrimination. "I never thought anyone could get this far, and I was wrong."

Alex dragged a hand over his face, then pushed his hair back and looked at Evan. "Could it have been some hacker? Maybe some bored kid looking around, who had a few lucky shots?"

"No," Evan shook his head firmly. "The only way someone could have gotten in there would be if . . . " he paused, not sure now if he should have said anything without proof. But what more proof could there be?

"If what?"

He sighed, then met Alex's gaze straight on. "If he was a Sha'erah, with my abilities."

Alex blinked.

"I don't know of any others. Not as good as I am."

His Keeper seemed completely awake now.

"You're sure? That it would have to have been a Sha'erah?"

"Positive. I could explain it to you in detail, if you like . . . ?"

"No, don't bother, I believe you." Alex got up and started pacing the room, twisting the silver ring as he walked. "I just don't understand it. Who would care what we're doing, let alone know what we're doing? Or who we are for that matter?"

"That's what I've been trying to figure out all night." Evan set the PDA aside for the moment and rubbed his eyes. "It has to be someone who knows who you are and wants to know what you're doing. You, me and Zane are the only ones who know we're going to see Kellman."

"And Zane's had run-ins with people who didn't want him finding out more before. I doubt he told anyone what we're doing."

Evan agreed. "I think we can trust him. He's not stupid, and he's been this route before." He didn't add the obvious fact that Zane of all people knew what would happen to him if he did cross them. "Kellman doesn't know we're coming, doesn't know you or me. Carpenter doesn't own a Sha'erah, neither does VanHolt. No one else has any clue what you might be doing on a cruise ship heading in the general direction of Murcadia. And no one should care."

Alex turned and crossed the room again, still gently twisting the ring. When the quiet chime informed them of their breakfast arrival, he detoured and removed the plates from the shelf.

Evan had to voice the one thought neither of them were mentioning, just to get it out where they could kill it. "The only one who would is the only one who couldn't."

"Dear old dad is dead, remember?" Alex set the plates down, then sat, ending his pacing with a determined shake of his head. "We killed him, froze him, and spit him out. And if by some freaking miracle he wasn't dead when we did it, he sure as hell is now."

"I know." Evan stood and crossed the room, then sat down to pick at a breakfast he no longer had the stomach for. Spencer Marcase was dead, no question. But someone had tried to break in, employing a Sha'erah to do it. The one thing he didn't want to voice was the fear that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't the best anymore. After all, he'd rolled off the assembly line almost twenty-nine years ago, the best there was. Top of the line, in that particular discipline.

At least, that's what they'd told him, anyway. In all his years working his talent, he'd come to believe that was true. But that was then. Someone new could have come along, maybe even just a few years into his assignment, who was proving that wrong. Someone sporting the latest upgrades to whatever the hell it was that allowed him to do what he did. Maybe if he understood it better, he'd have something closer to an answer.

But then, that's what Alex was trying to find out, wasn't it?

"I need to work, see if our intruder left any kind of trail or signature." Evan looked Alex in the eyes. "I won't let you out of my sight, not with someone taking this kind of interest." He put his best stern expression on and saw by Alex's slight snort of disgust that he'd been effective.

"Don't worry, I've got research to do." Alex pointed at the computer in the table as if it was his idea all along to stay in the rooms all day. "We've got eight days to figure out who this Kellman guy is and how we're going to approach him."

Evan let him believe the day's planning was all his and cleared the table. Delving into the security files and mentally searching every electronic nook and cranny was going to take a lot of concentration, but Alex being Alex, he was going to have to keep some small part of his attention making sure the man didn't take a walk. Sometimes he simply failed to see the seriousness of the situation, and Evan found keeping his Keeper safe more of a challenge than it should be.

So far, so good. And he was damn well going to keep it that way.

With Alex safely ensconced in the comfortable chair at the table, second cup of coffee steaming beside his hands as he typed out commands instead of using the verbal interface -- which could be trying even on a good day -- Evan settled in on the couch, PDA in hand, and became the computer.

He was young, no doubt about it. With youth came the arrogance of inexperience, the tell-tale sign of someone wanting not only to succeed, but to show anyone interested just how he'd done it. In this case, whoever had broken Evan's tight security, even that little breech that allowed the smallest glimpse inside, couldn't resist letting him know, Sha'erah to Sha'erah, that he was as good, if not better. It wasn't exactly a calling card, not in the way regular humans hacked. With them, you got a sloppy trail leading you right to their signature, and a detailed description of what they'd done while inside. Rank amateurs who couldn't conceive of the methods a Sha'erah used.

No, this hadn't been a random hacker who got lucky with the first PDA number he'd dialed. This was someone who wanted to make a point more than a discovery. And the message was clear.

I can.

But Evan had a message of his own. Even if there was a new Sha'erah, someone younger and more adept at his craft, he didn't have the experience one gained only from working for Spencer Marcase. And more importantly, he lacked the motivation. No one -- Sha'erah, human, or anything in between -- was going to attack Alex Marcase ever again. Not as long as Evan was alive.

And with a Keeper only a few years his senior, that stood to be a very long time. Unless he totally fucked this up and got himself sold ! No, that wasn't going to happen. He could see now the intruder hadn't stopped short of breaking the locks because he wanted to send a warning instead of actually breaking in. He simply couldn't get through. Evan's padlocks weren't as easy to pick as someone had thought, apparently. Perhaps it wasn't arrogance that left all the dents, but someone too frustrated by what he wasn't finding. Someone who hadn't expected to find it this hard, and couldn't quite deal with what he was running into.

Evan took a closer look at the virtual marks left behind, noting where they'd struck and where they'd missed altogether. He could easily picture someone surprised to find so many locks on something that shouldn't be this highly protected. Finding locks that bent his or her virtual lock-picking tools, leaving them frustrated enough to start banging around at anything in the way, leaving more marks than they realized.

Marks meant a trail. And trails tended to lead somewhere, even if they were intended to travel a circle. Anything that didn't have you running in place was leading somewhere. Evan took a deep breath, trying hard to stay relaxed but focused. He had time, he didn't need to rush anything. Alex was still at the table, legs draped over the second, unused chair as he read files and researched Regian Kellman. It even felt as if his Keeper was contemplating a nap soon. Evan mentally blinked and regrouped his thoughts.

All right, you little shit . . . you were in here. Now, who sent you?

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