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But if his was an act--why? What was the purpose?
Xris could almost suppose that Raoul, behind those painted, drag-drenched eyes, was laughing at them all ....
"Yes, Xris Cyborg?" Raoul's eyelids fluttered lazily. "What is wrong? Not the mascara!"
"Your hair's blocking part of the space station," Xris said, pointing.
"I beg your pardon." Raoul flipped his hair over his shoulder and, breathing a sigh of relief to know that his mascara wasn't smudged, continued with his nails.
Xris shoved aside a vial of nail polish remover that was sitting in a docking bay, and began. "What you are looking at is a holographic image of RFComSec. In case you can't translate the acronym, RFComSec stands for Royal Fleet Communications Security Establishment." Harry gave a low whistle.
"Yeah, I know," Xris said. "For obvious reasons, it wouldn't be a good idea for any of you to know how I managed to obtain this layout. So don't even bother. Or," he added for Raoul's benefit, "if you know, keep your mouth shut."
Raoul glanced up, smiled, returned to more important work.
Xris continued. "Inside this space station is where the Royal Navy formulates the codes and ciphers that keep their secrets secret. It's also where they work at decoding other people's secrets. Security is as tight as Raoul's buns."
The Adonian nodded his head to indicate he appreciated the compliment
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