Chapter 17: No Wall Behind It

The Council did not retire him.

It did not clear him either.

The presiding judge read the order standing, with the whole Hall silent.

The falsification charge was dismissed, and the defendant was released.

Article Fourteen was deferred to the next sitting.

Until then the Ninth Wing was returned to its commander, on probation.

Maltravers bowed slightly and said nothing.

Slade was led out by two guards with his sleeve still rolled up.

He did not look at me.

Odette went the other way, alone, with a handkerchief against her mouth.

Caspian's rented room was on the ninth level of a Station hostel.

It held one narrow bed and forty crew members.

They were on the floor, and on the bed, and on the washstand.

When we came in, the gunnery chief stood up, and every one of them followed.

"Ma'am," said the chief, with enormous dignity.

"Chief."

"Everybody out," Dax said. "Now. I swept the walls twice and I'm not going to sweep them again."

They filed out past us in a line.

The pilot paused in the doorway and looked at Caspian's face and mine.

"Take your time, sir," he said, and shut the door.

The latch clicked.

We were alone in a small room with no tap in the wall.

Neither of us moved.

I still wore the grey smock from Level Nine.

His left sleeve was soaked through, and the red under it burned steadily.

"You should have run," I said.

"From what?"

"From me. The Admiral has your bars and your career. I'm the reason."

"No." His voice was rough. "I'm the reason. I kept the truth from you."

"Why?"

"I thought it would keep you safe."

"Did it?"

"It put you in a cell."

"Then it was a bad plan." I crossed the room. "Caspian. The Admiral will come for me whether you touch me or not."

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