"It's better if you don't know."
"As you wish," the old man sighed. "But if you do something foolish . . ."
"I damned sure intend to try." He met his father's steely gaze.
"So did you do it?" Andrei Androv examined him, his ancient face ashen beneath his mane of white hair. "Did you manage to sabotage the AI module?"
He caught himself laughing out loud. Whatever else, his father was no fool. He'd been a Russian too long to believe anything he heard or half of what he saw. Intrigue was a way of life for him.
"Let's go. They'll come looking for us soon. This is the wrong place to be found."
"You're right."
"Go back to the West Quadrant. Listen to a string quartet." He opened the port and waited for his father to step out. Then he followed, closing it behind them. "There's no reason for you to be involved. Heads are going to roll, but why should yours be one of them?"
Andrei Petrovich Androv moved lightly up the metal stair, the spring in his step belying his age. At the top he paused and turned back.
"You're acting out of principle, aren't you, Yuri? For once in your life."