"Eh? What do you mean, no?"
"I want Laniq Hadrien. She's mine." If he lived forever he would never forget her face last night in Fornswitthe's place, with Fornswitthe dying on the floor. "I feel responsible, Ruscar. Forget the regulations this one time."
"Regulations clearly say the century agent is responsible for his own hundred years. Six to ten for a century, depending on its importance. Apprentices for each one. Like you, all the agents did intensive work in their own hundred years, learning the culture, mores, traditions. You'd be at a terrible disadvantage if we let you go galavanting all over time looking for the woman."
"I could always call on the century agents if I needed them," Tedor insisted. "They all have plenty of work as it is, and I'm due for a vacation. All right. Let me take the vacation my way. I want to look for Laniq Hadrien. If I can do the job alone, that would be a big help to the other agents."
"True."
"You have nothing to lose. Laniq was a fugitive before; she's a fugitive now. The fact that she's a murderer doesn't particularly interest you. Time tinkering is our line. But it interests me for personal reasons: I feel responsible for my Apprentice's death."
"That's reasonable."
Ruscar was weakening, Tedor could sense it. "You have nothing to lose, everything to gain. If I can find Laniq Hadrien while on vacation, no man hours were lost. You're always talking about how few man-hours we have."
Ruscar laughed softly. "You win, Tedor. I won't send out a general alarm. I won't put any century agents on Laniq Hadrien—until your vacation ends. You have one month."
"I'll find her," Tedor promised.