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won’t let that happen.”
    “Nor I,” she said, and kissed her forehead. “But explain, please—how were you able to leave? Surely your father objected—”
    “Oh, but he didn’t—because appearances were maintained. My father knew my feelings but never acknowledged them to me. Still, without a word being said, he saw that everything was taken care of. You see, I left, not in disgrace, but with honor. I came at the invitation of Ambassador Wen, who promised me a place in his office.”
    Sujata wrinkled her nose, puzzled. “But Wen is gone—Elir Ka’in is the Ba’ar Observer now. Surely your father knew how much time would pass. Ba’ar Tell is nearly fifty cees out—”
    “Of course he knew.”
    “So he kicked you out.”
    “But gracefully and with my needs considered.”
    “Amazing, the games you Ba’ar play.”
    Wyrena smiled. “We have an art for compromise and accommodation which you never did understand.”
    “There’s something in the Canons about that, isn’t there?”
    “A great deal of something,” Wyrena said: “I knew you weren’t listening when I explained it.”
    “Because you were distracting me at the same time,” Sujata said playfully. “Now you’ll have more time to teach me.”
    Wyrena laughed in her throaty way. “Especially since there is no place waiting in the Ba’ar Tell Observer’s office.”
    “I shouldn’t have much trouble finding something for you if you want.” Wyrena lifted her head to look into Sujata’s eyes. “Must I?”
    “No. But if not that, then what?”
    “If I could just stay here—be here for you—not have to face them—would that be all right?”
    “There’s no reason to hide from them—you said you wanted to live outside the rules, didn’t you? But if that’s what you want—”
    “It is,” Wyrena said, and snuggled closer.
    The next morning, Wells found Farlad waiting for him in his office anteroom. The adjutant came to his feet as Wells came through the outer door, then followed him into the inner office.
    “Expected to see you yesterday,” Wells said as he disappeared momentarily into the kitchenette. He reappeared a moment later with a glass of ice water in one hand. “What happened?”
    “Operations was having trouble with the Kleine transmissions—the data didn’t come in clean until just a few hours ago.“Wells’s forehead became creased with concern. “What kind of trouble?”
    “Noise. Interference. Dropped bits. The error algorithms had a busy night.”
    Frowning, Wells settled into his chair. “I don’t like that. I don’t like that at all. Reliable Kleine communications are key to our battle command and control. Were you given any explanation for the problem?”
    “No, sir. According to the senior comtech, they don’t know why it’s been happening.”
    “ Been happening? Then this isn’t a one-time problem?”
    “Apparently not, sir. She said it’s been cropping up more and more often, especially in the octants where there’s a lot of ship traffic.”
    “Which means Boötes and Lynx.”
    “Among others.”
    “That’s even more disturbing,” Wells said, his expression grim. “If we were to lose the ability to communicate with the Perimeter—I want a full report on this fast. How often it happens, how long it lasts—everything. If we can’t put an end to it, we may have to revise our C3 procedures.”
    “Yes, sir. I’ll put in the request.”
    Wells settled back in his chair. “So what about the Ba’ar Tell exercise? Have you figured out yet why I’m not impressed?”
    “Frankly, sir, no. The Defenders are tough little warships. I’d hate to have to lead an attack against them.”
    “I’m not impressed because that exercise was a fantasy. We weren’t attacking the Mizari, we were attacking ourselves.“Wells touched a contact and activated his terminal. “I’m not the only one that recognizes it, either. Berberon was in here yesterday and got in a few digs about us beating up on