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“That could change,” Clarity growled, “unless you get me out of this coagulated goo before one of these fanatics wakes up and thinks to hit me with a rock, or a chair, or a good swift kick, and blow all of us to kingdom come.”

“I do not know exactly what your intended mate is talking about, srra!!aut,” Syl clicked, “but I can relate to the part about being blown up.” Left truhand and foothand gestured in unison to take in their immediate surroundings. “What is all this about? Who are these people and how and why have they come to be so incapacitated?” She used a foothand to gesture back the way she had come. “There are others by the entrance and in the hallway. Seeing them in such a state and knowing you were somewhere here is what caused me to proceed with caution and weapons drawn.”

“They're members of something called the Order of Null. I—incapacitated them. They want me dead.”

Her right truhand and foothand pointed to the body of the Qwarm. “And are apparently willing to pay well to accomplish that.”

Flinx joined her in staring at the assassin's mountainous corpse. “I'm glad you didn't switch professions. He wouldn't have given you a chance to explain yourself.”

She gestured second-degree accord. “A senior Qwarm.” Her gaze returned to search his face. “After all these years there are still those who wish you gone.”

He shrugged. “Their identity shifts and changes, but not their intent. It's just my life, Syl. Later, when we have more time, I'll tell you more about it than you want to know.” He mustered up his earlier smile as he turned and started toward the immobilized, increasingly impatient Clarity. “Just as you have to tell me how you came to be here, and how you found me.”

She nodded and moved off to check on the condition of the traumatized, fetally curled, and still overwhelmed members of the Order, as he hurried over to Clarity.

The Elder had told him that there were four of the small, disk-shaped detonators taped to her thighs and electronically attuned to the hardened foam. They would set off the explosive amalgam if anyone attempted to cut or break through it or if it was struck hard enough. He did not need the beseeching look in her eyes to tell him that whatever he did he would have to proceed with the utmost caution. As with the Qwarm, if he made a mistake there would be no second chance. For either of them.

But if the detonators were simply taped to her body …

Smiling encouragingly, he stepped behind her and tried to slip his right hand down her front, starting at the neck where the foam stopped. No matter how hard or how carefully he wiggled his hand and no matter how deeply she inhaled, he could not get more than a finger or two into the restrictive space between her throat and the inside layer. Fearful of cracking or setting off the gray amalgam, he was reluctant to push too hard. He could not take a chance on triggering one or more of the detonators.

He had no better results when he lay down on the floor and tried to slip a hand up a leg. The Order had done their work well. He couldn't free Clarity without splintering or splitting the encasing foam. Doing that would undoubtedly set it off. And if the Elder was to be believed, the “simple” mechanical triggers taped to her upper legs could not be deactivated electronically without the risk of initiating the deadly reaction.

He needed something thin, narrow, and flexible that had a strong grasp, like the wormgrip the Elder had referred to. He could send Sylzenzuzex off to obtain one and bring it back, but that would leave him having to guard Clarity against any surprises the recovering acolytes might produce. Even disarmed they might prove dangerous. With the right tools he could shift both Clarity and her volatile sheath, but what if in the process of being moved it accidentally struck a wall or fell to the ground? The result would be as explosive as if he tried to cut into it.

As Syl continued to gather up the last of the Order's weapons and communits,