Trading in Danger Read Free Page B

long time, glaring at the tiny blue words on the gray screen. Then she moved the paper over and copied the words very carefully, in her best script, the handwriting of a properly-brought-up child and good student.
    Panic gripped her when she had signed it. She did not want to do this. She could not do this. She must do this. She looked at the time, 10:22:38. Had destroying her life really taken so little time?
    A tap on the door, then it opened. MacRobert again, this time with a large silver tray. A teapot, incongruously splotched with big pink roses. A pair of matching cups, gold-rimmed, on saucers. A small plate of lemon cookies, and another of tiny, precisely cut sandwiches.
    “The Commandant will be joining you,” MacRobert said. He set the tray on the end of the library table, picked up her resignation, and walked out with it. Ky sat immobile, staring at the steam rising from the teapot’s spout, trying not to smell the fragrance of cookies obviously fresh from the oven, trying not to think or feel anything at all.
    The Commandant’s entrance brought her upright, to attention; he waved her back down. “You’ve resigned, sit down.” He sighed. His left eyelid was back up where it should be, but his whole face sagged. “Pour out, will you?”
    Ky carried out the familiar ritual, something she didn’t have to think about, and handed him his cup of tea. He waited, and nodded at her. She poured one for herself. It was good tea; it would be, she thought. He took a sandwich and gave her a look; she took one, too.
    He ate his sandwich in one bite, and sipped his tea. “It’s a shame, really,” he said. “Here I had a perfectly good excuse to remove your internal organs and hang them from the towers, make an example of you… It’s my job, and I’m supposed to relish it, or why did I ask for it? But you were a good cadet, Mistress Vatta, and I know you intended to be a good officer.”
    Then why did you make me resign?
That was a question she must never ask; she knew that much.
    “In consideration of your past performance, and on my own responsibility, I’ve chosen to let you keep your insignia and wear it as you depart; I trust your sense of honor not to wear it again.”
    “No, sir,” she said. The bite of sandwich she had taken stuck in her throat. She had not even considered that he might demand their removal. The class ring on her finger—Hal’s ring, as he wore hers—suddenly weighed twice as much.
    “It’s hard for you to believe now, I’m sure, but you will survive this. You have many talents, and you will find a use for them…” He took a long swallow of his tea, and actually smiled at her. “Thank you for not making this harder than it had to be. Your resignation was… masterful.”
    The sandwich bite went down, a miserable lump. She wasn’t hungry; she couldn’t be hungry. She ate the rest of the sandwich out of pure social duty.
    “I understand you’ve arranged transport for noon?” he asked.
    “Yes, sir.”
    “You don’t have to say
sir
, Ca—Mistress Vatta.”
    “I can’t help it,” Ky said. Tears stung her eyes; she looked away.
    “Well, then. I would advise that you go out at 1130, while classes are in session. MacRobert will remain with you until your transport arrives, to deal with any… mmm… problems that may come up. Since the story broke on the early news, the media have been camped at our gates; it’ll be days before that dies down.”
    For a moment she had been furious—had he thought she’d do something wrong?—but the mention of media steadied her. Of course they would be trying to get in, trying to interview cadets. Of course the daughter of the Vatta family would interest them, even if Mandy hadn’t mentioned her, and someone would be bound to have a face-recognition subroutine that would pop out her name.
    “And there’s another thing.” She had to look at him again, had to see the expression of mingled annoyance and pity that was worse than anything