“Reckall hired me on Phobos,” Bates lied easily. “I’m a private contractor; so, no uniform. I just don’t fit in with them.” And he indicated the outnumbered USNE crew’s enclave with a jerk of his head.

The rebels relaxed and went back to eating and talking. “Have you seen Hugh Hensen? Short guy, red hair,” Ishikawa asked.

“Yeah, I saw Hensen,” Bates replied at once. “He wasn’t looking very good. I don’t think he’s coming.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He saw something in the city that hit him pretty hard.”

Ishikawa nodded. “A lot of us lost family and friends out there. It just kills you sometimes.”

“How are the shuttle repairs coming?”

“Shuttle 2 is up, checking the Nineteen Eighty-four wreck for survivors and salvage. The other landed badly during the fight, so we’re doing a pressure test.”

Bates nodded. When Ishikawa turned to his tray, Bates dropped his fork and knife on the floor. He bent down, got them and slipped the knife up his pants cuff. He’d sewn a magnet into it for this purpose.