Judgment at Proteus by Timothy Zahn Page B

which windows in which buildings still showed lights.
    I half expected my door to still be sealed, with the techs having forgotten to code the lock to my DNA. But if the renowned Filly efficiency couldn’t locate a lost Nemut, it was at least able to handle routine maintenance. The door opened at my touch on the plate, and I wearily stepped inside.
    I was reaching for the light switch when I heard a soft grunt.
    I took a long step to the side, out of the potentially lethal backlighting of the low glow from the corridor. Dropping into a combat stance, I tried to pierce the gloom in front of me.
    And then, as the door slid closed, I caught a glimpse of something crouching motionlessly beside my bed.
    I mouthed a curse, a flood of adrenaline kicking my brain back into gear. The light control was still within reach to my right—a flick of the switch and I would have all the light I needed to see who or what was waiting for me.
    But for that first couple of seconds my dilated pupils would be momentarily blinded. If the intruder was ready for that, with optical filters or whatever, those couple of seconds could mean the difference between life and a very quick death. Doug was standing beside me, but his breathing was calm and rhythmic, with no sign of distress or extra alertness. No help for me there.
    Or was there? If I picked him up and lobbed him across the room at the crouching figure, it might put the intruder out of action long enough for me to get my eyes adjusted and either jump him or get the hell out of the room. Silently, I squatted down and slid my arms around Doug’s torso—
    [Hello?] a Nemuti voice called groggily from the direction of the squatting figure. [Hello? Is someone there?]
    For a long moment I just crouched there, my mind spinning on its rails. Then, letting go of Doug, I straightened up again and flicked on the light.
    Minnario was half sitting up in bed, one hand shading his squinting eyes against the sudden glare. The figure I’d thought I’d seen lurking beside the bed was nothing more sinister than his support chair. [Mr. Compton,] he said, and there was no mistaking the surprise in his voice. [What in the FarReach are you doing here?]
    I took a deep breath and reached for my comm. “Someone’s been sleeping in my bed,” I murmured. “And he’s still here.”
    *   *   *
    [I’m so terribly sorry to have caused such distress,] Minnario apologized, his voice low and embarrassed as he looked around at me, Emikai, and the half-dozen Jumpsuits who had intruded upon his privacy. [I had no idea that I was even considered missing, let alone that foul play was suspected.]
    “How did you get in here, anyway?” I asked. “I was told this was my room.”
    [As was I,] Minnario said. [Which is what I then told the technician who was keying the lock when I arrived.]
    “And it didn’t concern you that he was coding it to my nucleics?”
    [I assumed you’d instructed him to do that so you would be able to enter for consultations without my having to come to the door to let you in.] He frowned. [Though now that I think about it, the tech did say something about me coming to visit you . I confess that I was so tired that the comment didn’t register at the time. I’m so very sorry to have caused such trouble.]
    “It is not your fault,” Emikai assured him. He’d come charging into the room in response to my call looking both relieved and annoyed. Now, he just looked tired. “It will be straightened out in the morning.” He turned to one of the Jumpsuits. {Where can we assign Mr. Compton for the night?}
    {There’s nothing available in this sector,} the other Filly said, punching keys on a reader. {I can try to find him something in one of the adjoining sectors.}
    “There are no other empty rooms nearby,” Emikai translated for me. “Could you perhaps stay with Bayta? It would only be for the one night.”
    “No problem,” I said. “In fact, forget about looking for something else. She