"Am I making a mistake to trust him, Beeker?" Phule pushed aside the sheaf of printouts he'd been reading during breakfast and leaned back in his chair.

            "I take it you are referring to Sushi, sir?" said Beeker. He set down his coffee cup.

            "Right," said Phule. "Do I continue to trust a man who can take control of my Dilithium Express account, or do I safeguard the money-and show him I don't trust him? When the lives of everybody in this unit could depend on that trust some day?"

            "One always needs to strike a balance between trust and security, sir," said Beeker. "There are things that every member of your company needs to know-daily pass words, for example. But only a few are cleared to receive top secret information-and yet nobody takes that as a matter of distrust. The fewer people who know some things, the more secure we all are. It would seem axiomatic that access to your money needs to be restricted."

            Phule took a sip of juice and rubbed his chin. "That's great advice, Beeker-except, what is there that's more secure than Dilithium Express? If he can hack that account, is there anything he can't hack?"

            "Perhaps not," said Beeker. "But if Dilithium Express is vulnerable, obviously some alternative is necessary."

            "I guess you're right," said Phule. "Too bad there's no way to keep the information quiet-but even if we captured that Yakuza agent, there's no way of knowing he hasn't already reported to his bosses. Or that any of several people have not figured out what happened."

            "Yes, the genie is out of the bottle," said Beeker, his face impassive as always. "Now our goal should be to minimize the damage it can do. Or better yet, to turn it to our advantage."

            "I don't see how I'm going to get any advantage from having people know my credit account is vulnerable," said Phule. He stood up from the table and began to pace. "As far as I can tell, the only person who comes out of this with any advantage is Sushi, if you get right down to it."

            "Oh, I believe there may be a way to profit from Sushi's skills," said Beeker. "Sometimes, letting everyone know you can do something is as good as actually doing it. Word that one of your men can meddle with a Dilithium Express account should make its way through the criminal underworld quite rapidly. This will undoubtedly prompt many of them to turn all their efforts toward duplicating the feat-but of course, you will have protected your assets against any such attempt."

            "I see," said Phule. "And while they're doing that, they're not trying to attack us in other ways. Well, it's not much of a silver lining, but I'll take what I can get. But we still need a way to protect my assets without losing easy access to them."

            "As to that, sir, I have a suggestion I believe you will find of interest," said Beeker, a faint smile on his lips.

            "Do you, now?" said Phule. "What do you have in mind?"

            Beeker was about to reply when Phule's wrist communicator buzzed. "Yes, Mother?" he said, wondering what new crisis had occurred.

            "Get yourself prettied up and don't drag your feet, sweetie," came the familiar voice from the communicator. "Your favorite brass hat wants to see you on the holophone."

            "General Blitzkrieg?" Phule's jaw fell.

            "Well, it sure sounded like him to me, silly boy. If I were you, I'd hurry up and talk to him. I can stall the old lizard-face as long as you need me to, but I doubt it'll improve his not-so-sunny disposition."

            "Give me three minutes," said Phule. "Did he say what it was about?"

            "You must be out of your ever-lovin' mind," said Mother. "Now, get your tail movin', toots-that three minutes is already started, and as much as I'd enjoy giving the general the run-around, I'm worried about what he'd have done to me if he found out I was wastin' his time." She broke the connection.

            "General Blitzkrieg," said Phule, looking at Beeker. "He certainly picked an interesting time to call."

            "Yes, sir," said Beeker, looking at Phule critically. "You've enough time to comb your hair before you talk to him. It would be exactly in character for the general to waste the first five minutes of a trans-space holophone call reprimanding you for your appearance."

            Phule grimaced. "I wish I had time to change the whole uniform, but I doubt it'd make any difference. Let's hope the news isn't too bad this time."

            "Sir, I doubt very much that even General Blitzkrieg could do very much to make the situation worse," said Beeker. He paused a beat, then added, helpfully, "Of course, if there's any way he can make it worse, I'm sure he'll be glad to do it."