"That's why we had Schilling get that release order."
The room seemed suddenly distorted. Boone paced the floor to hide his shaking.
He'd left Eileen on far Hyperion, a prisoner of the Helgae.
No, in spite of all Krobis' machinations, fate had thrown him a wild gambler's chance to reach her.
Terral's voice drummed at him: "That order cost us, Boone. Who cares, though, if it breaks the Cartel? Sure, you'll be a fugitive for awhile. But you'll be safe so long as nobody thinks to tie you in with us, and we can smooth the whole business over once we get our own source of mekronal and chandak...."
Pushing his jumbled thoughts aside, Boone pivoted. "What are we waiting for? Let's get started."
"Already?" Terral chuckled dryly. "Slow down! This is going to take a little doing." He bent over the desk, scribbled swiftly on a note-pad, and then straightened. "Take this to the manager at Triangle Freight. Hot as you are, we're going to have to crate you up and send you out onto the ramp as cargo."
"Right." Boone slipped the scrawl into his pocket. "I'll be on my way, then."
"Good luck!"
Boone answered with a wordless salute and, turning, strode from the office and the building.