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Xris agreed, caught hold of Rowan's elbow, steered her on. It had not been unknown, when they were agents together, for Rowan to stop in the middle of a guns-drawn, badges-flashing raid to read a flier tacked on a wall.
The Little One made a sudden turn to the right. He was running now, dashing along at such a rapid, eager pace that he tripped himself up completely and sprawled flat on the floor. He was up again before anyone could reach him, racing madly down the con'idor. He skidded to a halt in front of a door, pointing and jumping up and down. "This is it? Raoul's in there?" Xris asked.
The Little One nodded so violently that the hat slid over his eyes.
Xris was back on the comm. "Rescue-two? Can you see us now?"
"I have you, Rescue-one. You're on Deck eight, level B-two. And you're in the clear. That corridor's empty in all directions."
"Everyone behaving themselves up there?"
"Two indignant outbursts, one request for a glass of water---denied--and one promise to see us all behind a force field, but that's been about it so far. There's a blip on the screen; someone coming to check on the distress signal. Looks like a freighter, moving pretty slowly, but it is moving, so don't dawdle."
"Right. You reading anything inside this room?"
"Nothing here. But like I said, I can't see."
Xris glanced again at the Little One. The fedora bobbed
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