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“I have.” The Teacher's prompt response was encouraging. “I could easily destroy the inspecting vessel. However, the reaction this would provoke would likely prove disadvantageous to your presence here.”

Same old Teacher, Flinx told himself. As thoroughgoing a master of understatement as an artificial intelligence could possibly be.

“Let's assume we discard that option as unworkable,” he replied dryly. “What else have you got?”

“I will generate a lengthy and detailed rationale for having to hastily depart outsystem. One that conforms to and is suitable for all the pertinent AAnn procedures in my database. My calculation is that this will engender some minor irritation at the lowest levels of the relevant bureaucracies. It should quickly be forgotten. After a short but suitable interval spent undetectably in space-plus during which time I will completely revamp and rechameleonize my external appearance, I will return. For several days at least, a newly arrived, completely different ship occupying a completely different orbit should not arouse similar discomfiting suspicions among those still searching for my previous incarnation. Several days constitute ample time in which to pin-plunge a shuttle, recover you from the surface, and disappear safely back into space-plus.”

Flinx considered. The ship's suggestion was typically comprehensive and well thought out. There was only one flaw he could find in the proposal.

“That means I'll be stuck here. Until you can reconfigure and return.”

“Until I can reconfigure and return, yes.” There was a pause, then, “To attempt anything more forward and direct while I am under such close observation would be to put both of us unnecessarily at serious risk.”

The Teacher was not arguing on its own behalf, Flinx knew. It would do exactly as it was instructed. If he ordered it to make an attempt to pick him up on the grounds of the Imperial Palace itself, it would comply. And in all likelihood be vaporized in the process.

“How much time will you need?” he murmured. “To depart out-system, enter space-plus, jump back, reconfigure, and return?”

“Certain components of the course of action you state are not immediately quantifiable. Given the variability of the conditions involved I would rather not venture specifics. Say, no less than a few days, no more than a couple of local teverravaks.”

A single teverravak was sixteen Blasusarrian days, Flinx knew. Even with Kiijeem's help, could he continue to avoid the attention of the authorities for that long? Or even continue to avoid coming to the notice of members of the young AAnn's extended family? Only the day before he had nearly been discovered by a pair of distant relations who had been walking the family property. Fortunately they had been more interested in finding a place to complete a secluded mating than in searching the crannies and crevices of the landscaped pool where he was hiding.

He really had no choice, he realized. The mounting risk to the Teacher had to be addressed immediately. He took a deep breath as a concerned Pip stirred to wakefulness nearby.

“Initiate the program described at your preferred speed,” he whispered into the pickup. “Carry out the necessary measures as fast as you can—without compromise. I understand that we risk disaster if you make an attempt to return before modification is properly completed. The new camouflage has to be at least as effective as your present disguise.”

“I concur absolutely.” Did the ship sound relieved? Flinx wondered. “I will exert maximum effort, Flinx, and resume contact as soon as is safe. Until then, you must preserve yourself and all your functions without recourse to my facilities.”

“You can count on that,” he muttered fervently. There was no need to say good-bye, farewell, or anything else. All that needed to be said had been said.

Setting the simsuit aside, he lay down on the cool sandstone. His gaze wandered upward to focus on the unfamiliar stars. Somewhere up there the Teacher would be formulating excuses to