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She eyed the exit just beyond Jarok’s square shoulder, and wondered how far she’d get if she ran for it. One of the other ghilik had told her there were sensors sewn into the hems of their clothing, something in the food they ate that made it easier to track them. She didn’t know what she believed anymore. Jarok, meanwhile, was angry about something. He never raised his voice, but it was clear he was furious.

“There’s never enough time, don’t you see, Tal? They work us to death, and for what? It used to be honor, but no more, no more. We give the Empire our lives-go here, fight there, rendezvous here, attack there-“

“Alidar, for Elements’ sake-!”

Jarok seemed to remember where he was. Shopkeepers and their apprentices were not on the same plane as senior officers of the Fleet, but they had ears.

“Forgive me; you’re right,” he said, somewhat subdued and, resuming his seat, continued his search among the baubles for a gift for the most beautiful woman in the Empire.

Jarok! Zetha remembered at last. Alidar Jarok, even a groundling like me knows who you are. The Hero of Norkan, Tal called you, and it’s what the Praetor called you in his speech when he awarded you that medal on the vidscreens for the whole world to see, but what I’ve heard in the catacombs among my kind is that you’re a cold-blooded killer. What harm in telling the Lord that? Takes one to know one, and none of my business.

But what I hear you saying now suggests a change of heart. Maybe you can do some good with that. Maybe that’s what his lordship is afraid of. Maybe, maybe, maybe, and all of it, if I want to go on living, is my business.

She tossed the tangled chains back in the bin they’d come from. The jeweler was too busy with his pricey customers to notice. Zetha knew what she would tell the Lord.

“Nothing!” Koval hissed. His voice became even softer than usual when he was furious, and Zetha could barely hear him through the ringing in her ears. Why was it, she wondered, picking herself up off the floor, that a blow to side of the head always sounded worse than it felt? “How dare you tell me you heard nothing? How stupid do you think I am? Get up. I didn’t strike you that hard.”

Zetha suppressed a giggle behind her usual deadpan (“You’d out-Vulcan a Vulcan,” Aemetha always said, but Aemetha had never been offworld, and Zetha doubted she’d ever seen a Vulcan, even in a vid). How stupid do I think you are? Don’t let me speak; you’d cut my tongue out!

“They must have said something. You were right there in the room.”

“Yes, Lord. With that damned background music, which is supposed to make them think there are no listening devices-if you don’t count the breathing ones-and my head still ringing from the blow you gave me yesterday. And the jeweler dancing attendance on them like a small yappy dog. Why don’t you ask him what he heard?”

Koval’s narrowed his eyes at her. By now she knew all his facial expressions and the threats implied by them. This one had absolutely no effect.

“What did they speak of?” he demanded. “I must know!”

“They spoke. What about I could not tell you; I didn’t hear a word. They spent more than an hour examining everything in the shop before the elder bought a pendant and the younger a pair of earbobs. Gaudy ones; I can’t say much for his taste. He said they were a naming-day gift. That much I did hear. Before he left, the older one clasped the younger one’s shoulder, and they left.” She took a deep breath before adding: “I didn’t even learn their names.”

I’ve guessed right! she thought, watching the satisfaction spread like rancid oil over his features. At best he wanted me to report on what they talked about; at least he wanted me completely ignorant of who or what they were. It seems he won’t kill me… today.

Yes, joke, she thought, for as long as you can, but the truth is the tension’s killing you, however slowly. Your hair’s starting to fall out, have you noticed? Your gums bleed, and it’s not the food, because plain as it is, you’re better fed now than you’ve ever been, even under Aemetha