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nameless fool who’d prattle on about how busy you were. So I came in person. Twice.” He stabbed at the tabletop with a thick finger. “The first time, I made the mistake of using the trans-lev from Vancouver like a normal visitor. They stopped me at the dock and sent me back. This time, I didn’t tell anyone where I was going. I bribed some of your students to bring me here with them. I wouldn’t give a name or ident until you showed up at the door. Wouldn’t let them have a chance to send me away again.” He stopped to catch his breath, managing to look outraged and smug at the same time.
    They. Them. Mac didn’t doubt who’d been keeping Mudge away from her. The Ministry. The arm of Human government that dealt with offworld issues of interest to humanity, now patently interfering on Earth.
    Answering the question of how much they relied on her willing silence, Mac told herself, feeling cold. If they could impede the movement of a government official, however annoying, who knew what other powers they’d been granted since declaring the Dhryn a threat to the Human species? Obviously no paralysis of jurisdictions in the way. Given the circumstances, Mac supposed such streamlining was reasonable, probably even commendable.
    She just preferred her bureaucracy a little more on the cumbersome side, with things like forms, delays, and names attached.
    Mudge was distracted by students with trays crowding past him, forced to lean sideways to avoid a close encounter with chowder; distracted by her own thoughts, Mac was grateful for the reprieve.
    She’d drawn too much comfort in the lack of news, believed it impossible to keep something as noteworthy as attacks on entire worlds a secret, assured herself she’d be among those to know. Had she been naïve?
    What might be happening?
    Enough, Mac scolded herself, reining in her imagination. It wasn’t as if knowing would make any difference in her life. She was packed for the field; she had experiments to run. So what if the Ministry had reserved to itself, and presumably key leaders of Earthgov, the right to decide how much truth to release about the Dhryn? That was their job. The press releases had been masterworks of reassurance. “The Dhryn posed an unspecified hazard.” Late-night comics joked about explosive alien flatulence. “The Dhryn had gone missing.” Enterprising, if unscrupulous, individuals advertised colonization rights on their abandoned worlds. “System approach controls were to report any sightings.” Shipping schedules and security hadn’t changed.
    Avoiding panic, keeping order in space-bound traffic, concealing needful preparations for defense or attack. Those were valid reasons.
    Weren’t they?
    The truth might come out in years, never, or this afternoon. Mac feared the timing would depend more on how soon the crisis grew out of control than on anything more sensible. But she wasn’t a politician.
    She was someone who understood the need to protect others. Maybe secrecy was the best way. It wasn’t hers, mind you. But they hadn’t asked her opinion .
    “Pardon? What did you say?” Mudge demanded. His rainsuit squeaked as he turned to face her.
    “Nothing.” Mac pressed her fingertips, real and artificial, against the tabletop. It resisted without effort, being as hard as the truth. Truth . She licked her lips, trying to think of the best approach. “It was a mistake to come here, Oversight,” she told him at last. “You have to leave. Now.”
    He settled deeper into his chair.
    Oh, she knew that look. Growing roots and planning to be as stubborn as one of his damned trees.
    As easily cut down.
    Mac closed her eyes briefly, then gave in. “Let’s continue this in my office.”
    She’d picked one of the smaller tables, off to the side. It didn’t share the ocean view afforded by the rest of the room, though it made a decent spot for watching hockey or vids when those were playing. It was, however, close to an exit. Mac had grown