"How nice," said Theresa. "Too bad they didn't have one for me or your father to use."
"They didn't," said Peter. "I've got Graff's. It's not like they keep them in stock."
"Why did you tell everybody you met here that we were leaving on this shuttle? Are you trying to get us killed?"
"Ah, what tangled webs we weave, when we practice to deceive," said Peter.
"So you're playing spider," said Theresa. "What are we, threads? Or flies?"
"Passengers," said John Paul.
And Peter laughed.
"Let me in on the joke," said Theresa, "or I'll space you, I swear I will."
"As soon as Graff knew he had an informer here at the station, he brought his own security team here. Unbeknownst to anyone but him, no messages are actually going into or out of the station. But it looks to anyone on the station as if they are."
"So you're hoping to catch someone sending a message about what shuttle we're on," said Theresa.
"Actually, we expect that no one will send a message at all."
"Then what is this for?" said Theresa.
"What matters is, who doesn't send the message." And Peter grinned at her.
"I won't ask anything more," said Theresa, "since you're so smug about how clever you are. I suppose whatever your clever plan is, my dear clever boy thought it up."
"And people say Demosthenes has a sarcastic streak," said Peter.
A moment ago she didn't get it. And now she did. Something clicked, apparently. The right mental gear had shifted, the right synapse had sizzled with electricity for a moment. "You wanted everybody to think they had accidentally discovered we were leaving. And gave them all a chance to send a message," said Theresa. "Except one person. So if he's the one..."
John Paul finished her sentence. "Then the message won't get sent."
"Unless he's really clever," said Theresa.
"Smarter than us?" said Peter.
He and John Paul looked at each other. Then both of them shook their heads, said, "Naw," and then burst out laughing.
"I'm glad you too are bonding so well," she said.
"Oh, Mom, don't be a butt about this," said Peter. "I couldn't tell you because if he knew it was a trap it wouldn't work, and he's the one person who might be listening to everything. And for your information I only just got the damper."
"I understand all that," said Theresa. "It's the fact that your father guessed it and I didn't."
"Mom," said Peter, "nobody thinks you're a lackwit, if that's what you're worried about."
"Lackwit? In what musty drawer of some dead English professor's dust-covered desk did you find that word? I assure you that never in my worst nightmares did I ever suppose that I was a lackwit."
"Good," said Peter. "Because if you did, you'd be wrong."
"Shouldn't we be strapping in for takeoff?" asked Theresa.
"No," said Peter. "We're not going anywhere."
"Why not?"
"The station computers are busily running a simulation program saying that the shuttle is in its launch routine. Just to make it look right, we'll be cut loose and drift away from the station. As soon as the only people in the dock are Graff's team from outside, we'll come back and get out of this can."