"Tell him to order McGuire to change course, to go to Asteroid MJ3-1990."
I sat up. It was nice just to lie there and have Vivian bathe my brow, but I had more pressing things to do. I didn't feel in the pink of condition, and my throat hurt like hell, but I wasn't in too bad a shape.
"This Borodin," I whispered, "who was he working for?"
"I don't know," Brentwood said. "He didn't say."
We questioned him for another half hour, but it soon became apparent that he didn't know very much. He'd been offered a tremendous amount of money to do the job, and he didn't have the stamina to refuse it. It's guys like Brentwood who gave rise to the saying that every man has his price.
"What'll we do now?" Felding asked at last. "Go on to Phobos, or go back to Ceres?"
"Back to Ceres," I whispered. "Colonel Brock will know what to do with him."
I'd been uneasy ever since my calls to Brock and Marty that morning had disclosed that Venuccio had lost the men who were supposed to be tailing him. It's fairly easy to do on Ceres, if you know how.