The lights flared on.
"Hold it right there!" a voice barked, and instinctively Susan went into a defensive crouch. She squinted in the bright light, but could make out only a vague shape.
Her eyes adapted quickly, and she began to see detail. The other wore dark glasses against the light. One beefy hand still covered the light switch, while the other held a formidable-looking blaster aimed at her.
Muscles tensed as she again prepared to spring. She knew she didn't stand a chance, but she couldn't just stand there and let him burn her down. If she was going to die, she would do her best to take her attacker out with her.
"I wouldn't try it," he said. "I don't want to hurt you, but I am prepared to defend myself."
Something in what he said stopped her. "What do you mean, you don't want to hurt me? Isn't that why you're here-to kill me?"
"No." The man shifted the weapon's barrel slightly to the right, off Susan. "I'm with Fleet-on a special security assignment."
"How am I supposed to know that?"
"I'm afraid you'll have to take my word for it. After all, I could have killed you the moment you stepped through that door, but I didn't."
That was true enough. Susan relaxed her stance a bit. "Okay, I'll grant you might be with Fleet. But what are you doing in my rooms?"
"I'm here to protect you, Captain."
"I can take care of myself." Now that there might be someone, she found she didn't want the help. Especially the way he had accomplished it-breaking into her rooms.
"Perhaps you can," the fat man said. "But I've been assigned to keep an eye on you, all the same."
They were both silent for a few seconds. Finally, Susan asked, "What should I call you?"
"Clayton. Alan Clayton."
"Your real name?"
"Of course not."
Susan nodded.
"I understand the man who attacked you back on Fleet Base was a belter," Clayton said as he tucked the blaster out of sight, into the folds of his soiled jumpsuit.
"That's right. A member of the Society."
"Why would a belter be after you?"
Susan shrugged. "The line of work I'm in?"
"That's possible. Or maybe it could have something to do with Aldebaran. He might have lost someone there." Clayton had done his homework.
"It's possible," Susan said. "But how did he get into my quarters?"
"A spore-lock scrambler was reported missing from the Base Security armory three days ago. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if both a Security uniform and a stun pistol are missing as well, although neither has been reported yet."
"Is that how you got in here?"
Clayton nodded. He pulled a chrome tube measuring six inches long and a quarter inch in diameter from a fold in his jumpsuit, then quickly replaced it.
"Then you believe me?" Susan tried to keep the excitement out of her voice, without success.
"I believe you were attacked. There's undeniable evidence for that."
"What evidence?" Susan asked.
"First, there's the stolen scrambler. And Base Security found traces of raglon oil on the bathroom floor." To all but those who had spent considerable time in the asteroid belts, raglon oil was a lethal poison. Certain trace elements found only in the asteroids not only neutralized its poison, but made it an extremely reliable sun- screen. Those who lived and worked in the belts assimilated the protective elements into their tissues.
"But you don't believe my attacker disappeared into thin air."
"I can't pass judgement on that."
Neither spoke for several seconds. When the silence became unbearable, Susan said, "There's another one after me. He has already tried once."
"Someone else tried to kill you? When?"
She told him about the attempt made on her life as she left the curio shop back on Fleet Base, but said nothing about her assailant's sudden disappearance, or how the crowd had thinned. And she didn't mention the inexplicable time discrepancies, either; she knew he would not believe her. Without elaborating, she told him simply that her assailant had escaped.
"Why didn't you report the attack to Base Security?" Clayton demanded.
"I guess I just didn't have time in all the rush of packing." Even to Susan that sounded lame, but she could think of nothing else to say-nothing he might believe.
Clayton stroked his beard and scowled from beneath bushy eyebrows. "Listen, Captain, you're going to have to start leveling with me if I'm to be of any help. You're saying an attempt was made on your life, and you failed to report it because you were too busy?"
"Yes." Susan put as much authority as she could muster into that single word.
"I don't believe it. In fact, I don't believe you could have let him escape in the first place. I know your background. I know what you're capable of. You would never have let someone who tried to kill you escape. Not twice-not even once. Either you would be dead, or your attacker would be. And if he did somehow manage to get away, you certainly would have reported it."
What could she tell him? What would he believe? She could think of no fabrication that might work, so she told the truth. The whole truth.
"That's an incredible story," Clayton said when she had finished.
"I didn't think you'd believe me."
"I didn't say I don't believe you. I simply said it's an incredible story. And you have to know it is. You don't want to change any of it, do you? Make it a bit easier to digest?"
"I wish I could, but that's exactly the way it happened."
"You checked your LIN/C, of course."
"Of course."
"And?"
"It agrees with what I remember."
Clayton shook his head. "Let me see that pendant."
Susan went to the closet and removed the pendant from the small personal effects drawer located at its back. Then she returned to Clayton and held it up between them.
"You haven't worn it since?" he asked.
"No."
"Maybe you'd better. It seems to have saved your life, although I'll be damned if I know how. And right now you need all the help you can get, whether you'll admit it or not."
They were silent for a few seconds. Susan slipped the pendant out of sight, into a pouch at her waist. Finally, Clayton broke the silence.
"I'll have your story checked. Someone else must have felt that change in atmospheric pressure, or noticed something out of the ordinary. Meanwhile, go about your business as if nothing has happened."
"Something is happening. Someone is trying to kill me!"
"I know." He stepped to the door and it irised open. "But getting excited about it won't help. Just go about your normal routine, and give them the chance they want. I'll be there to take them out when they make their move."
"What if you don't get them?" Susan asked. "What if they get me first?"
"I won't let that happen. Although you won't see me, I'll be near." Clayton hesitated, then asked, "By the way, what are you doing here in Luna City?"
"I'm on loan to the Survey Service."
"That much I already know. What's the assignment."
Susan shook her head. "I can't tell you that."
"Look, I'm going to find out anyway. And the sooner I know everything you know, the better I'm going to be able to protect you."
"I'm sorry, but I have a job to do, too. And, like yours, it involves maintaining strict security. Besides, I really don't know anything yet myself."
Clayton didn't answer for a long moment. When he finally did, he said simply, "I understand." He turned and stepped out into the corridor, then walked away without another word. The door irised closed behind him.
Susan stood still, staring at the door. Clayton might be right, she may need all the help she could get. She didn't understand any of what was happening to her.
And he might be right about the pendant, too.
She took it from the pouch at her waist and examined it, holding it by its chain. It looked so dull, so cold, so totally lifeless. Could it have been somehow responsible for her attacker's disappearance outside the curio shop on Fleet Base?
She didn't know. Still, like Clayton had said, if it had saved her life once, it might do so again. But only if she wore it.
Putting the chain around her neck, she tucked the small lump of gray metal into her jumpsuit.