The Avatar by Poul Anderson

established a couple of fake identities, complete with excellent credit ratings, to protect privacy when he and his traveled. In the pond that was Demeter, population less than three million, he’d become a bigger frog than he liked.
    “What next?” Lis asked.
    “Let’s think,” he said, kindling tobacco and drinking smoke. “Obviously I’ll need transportation to Sol, transportation that’ll do me some good after I get there.
Chinook
—what else?—the crew she can carry, the supplies aboard, the auxiliary boat. Besides,
Williwaw
is practically designed for jobs like snatching me unbeknownst from wherever I am on this planet.”
    “How do you hope you’ll get
Chinook
through the gate, past the watchship?”
    He chuckled. The prospect of operating, instead of being operated on, cheered him immensely. Not that he welcomed the present mess. Yet in recent years his days had gotten too predictable for his taste. “We’ll figure that out. If you can’t handle the negotiations, dear, we’d better both report to the gero clinic. Off hand… hm … well, Aventureros”—the parent company of Chehalis—“certainly could use another big freighter within the Solar System; and with no prospect now of
Chinook
going starward, why, we might as well put her on charter there.” He snapped his fingers. “Hey, yes, that’d give her the perfect official reason to contact the Ruedas.” Leaning forward, going earnest: “Yes, let’s count on that. Tomorrow you buzz the crewfolk. Speak about a possible trip to Sol on short notice, and invite them here for a conference about it. La Hancock did tell me quite frankly we’d be bugged whenever we had visitors, and jamming at that time would look too suspicious. But you can prepare written summaries to hand out, and all the real talk can be in writing, while harmless things are spoken that you can alsohave written out beforehand. They’re bright people I picked, quick studies. They’ll put on a convincing show.”
    Lis frowned. “Will they necessarily go along with such a risky venture?”
    “Well, some may be too law-abiding or something. However, I feel sure that if any refuse, they’ll still be loyal enough that they won’t run off and blab. I didn’t choose them to be my crew on a possible voyage to new planets without getting to know each one of them pretty well.”
    “Even so, Aurelia is no fool. If she learns that
Chinook
is about to leave, she may slap on a hold, on whatever pretext she can think of, just to play safe.”
    “Need she know? The Governor General’s office doesn’t usually keep track of spaceship comings and goings. I’ve little doubt you can hit on an arrangement.”
    Brodersen hesitated before adding: “Uh, in due course she will grow certain I’ve vamoosed, and quite likely speculate that I was smuggled aboard. You’ll be in for considerable static, I’m afraid.”
    “I can give as good as I get,” she assured him.
    He smiled. “Yeah. How well I know. I don’t see how she can make really serious trouble for you without tipping her hand, which she mustn’t. What can she legally prove, except maybe that you helped your husband break out of a dubiously legal custody? And if that came to trial, wow!”
    “She might trump up something worse,” Lis said. “Not that I think she’d want to. She’s not basically a commissar. But she might be ordered to.”
    “Our lawyers can drag out any court case for months,” he reminded her. “By that time, I should’ve gotten the whole stinking business busted to flinders.” He frowned. “Of course, if I fail—”
    “Don’t worry about me,” she interrupted. “You know I’ll manage.”
    Again she grew quiet, standing beside him. “I’ll be afraid on your account,” she said at last.
    “Don’t be.” He shifted his pipe and laid an arm around her shoulders.
    “Well, since you are bound to go, let’s plan things carefully. For openers, how do we keep in touch?”
    “Through Abner