Chapter 14

* * *

A large, almost palm-wide, octagonal card of rough, dark green plastic lay on the purple velvet of the table, taking its place among its counterparts.

"The Triple Ring! " Asmi Lertar, a beautiful woman in her thirties in a long, light green dress, proclaimed and looked around triumphantly, her light gray eyes fixed on Alexa. She smiled sweetly and asked. "How do you answer, Lord Cassard?"

There was practically nothing to answer with. All of Alex's blocks had gone down at the beginning of the game, so there was no way to destroy the piece. There was some hope that the next hand would bring a pair of Golden Blades, but...

"I'll pass," he said with a sigh and threw the cards on the table. All Alex's experience of playing the local mix of cards and dominoes had been a couple of games with Baroness Rionale - he wasn't a fan of gambling at all, and to risk such slim odds...

"The Fyronians always pass when the odds aren't in their favor," Baron Janos commented with a lazy voice and, grinning wickedly, laid the Black Lord and Lady out on the table. The Triple Ring, so carefully constructed by the esteemed Asmi, appeared to be broken.

Alex glared at the baron and, smirking kindly in return, once again pretended not to notice the outburst in his direction. Baron Janos had been trying to quip Alex at every opportunity throughout the game. Perhaps the real Lord Cassard would have been annoyed by such remarks long ago, but he - hardened in forum discussions - such clumsy attempts at "trolling" only made him laugh: too fat, dear Baron, too fat.

Seeing the smile, the Baron answered with a look of anger.

Ser Ven Baron Janos was a brown-eyed, dark-haired, mustachioed handsome man with a dashing look, a kind of 'hussar'. He looked a little older than Alex, about twenty-eight, maybe thirty. A black leather hunting suit, girded with a wide belt that was laden with the hilt of a sword and a blaster. The rolled-up sleeves showed off his muscular arms, and a long, thin scar on his right cheek and a jaunty mustache completed the macho image. But this macho man was clearly not strong in verbal duels and fights. And he seemed to be well aware of this weakness, which made him even angrier.

"We just know when to be brave and when to be stupid," retorted Lord Sargo Athand, who seemed to think the honor of the House had been touched.

Three of his Blades covered the Baron's Black Lady and the Blue and Scarlet Knights took out the Black Lord.

"It's a pity that not everyone can do that." Sargo Athand added with a sigh

The Three Rings were restored, and Asmi gave Lord Athand the most bewitching smile she could - her chances of victory were once again greater than ever.

"Stopping in time? The Fyronians?" laughed Lady Nadine Pell, a gorgeous green-eyed beauty in a pale blue camisole decorated with abundant gold embroidery. "That was the most absurd thing I'd ever heard."

Laughing out loud, she leaned back in her chair and shook her head to flick her hair away from her face. A wave of long, fiery red curls swept over Alex, scenting him with a delicate floral perfume. Lady Nadine had been paired with Lord Cassard and seemed to find it hard to do. For one thing, as the ruling member of the House of Peltar, she was forced to play in alliance with a Fyron, and not just anyone, but with Alessandro Cassard himself, son of the very Cassard who had planned and executed the unexpected and dastardly (from the Peltarians' point of view, naturally) attack on Pell. Secondly, and more importantly, Alex played a very average game, undermining Lady Pell's chances of winning.

"Fyron won't stop until he's conquered the whole Sector," Nadina added and dropped her cards too.

"The last time House Fyron had expanded its territory was over four hundred years ago, adding a Neutral Sector that did not belong to any of the Great Houses," Baroness Rionale said as if casually, laying out a rack of Guardsmen on six colors. Kayrin was pairing up with Asmi, and everything was going towards a victory for this duo, which was clearly to her liking. And given that their main rivals for most of the game were the pairing of Alex and Nadina, the victory promised to be particularly sweet.

"And the occupation of the seven systems doesn't count, of course?" A sarcastic man in his sixties with a large bald head and a small grey beard asked.

Baron Antrem, head of the Privy Council of House Kilret. His dark green camisole was unbuttoned, revealing a snow-white shirt and a massive gold chain with links as thick as a finger. A broad golden belt only emphasized his rather imposing belly, and his powerful arms and shoulders indicated that the baron had once boasted a hero physique. He was paired with Baron Venom Janos and was now doing his best to destroy Asmi's Triple Ring, but his pair of Knights Black and Gold weren't even strong enough to deal with Kayrin's Four of Guardsmen.

"These systems were never officially part of House Fyron," Lord Athand replied.

"Oh, that's a caveat worthy of a Twilight Adept! Bravo!" Baron Antrem did not let up. "You could say it wasn't an occupation, but the transfer under a responsible administration."

"Strange to hear you talk about excuses. Doesn't your house buy Strike Cruisers on Tallan under quotas for antipiracy ships, calling them - Assault Frigates?" Earl Marell Kerrim, a knight of House Ispar, inquired.

"If it's not carrying his fighters, it's a frigate!" Antrem snapped, discarding his cards. "And besides, the Emperor's representative didn't find any wrongdoing in that!"

"Oh, that's an excuse worthy of a Twilight Adept!" Marell returned the courtesy.

"You and your ally Fyron are no better. Take, for example, the infamous representative program." Nadine Pell rushed to Baron Antrem's aid. After all, House Kilret remained the only ally of House Peltar.

"What's wrong with our representative program?" Lord Athand resented it.

"Well, for example - the purchase of yachts."

"You know that, unfortunately, not all members of House Fyron can afford to buy their ship..." Lord Athand was eager to explain: "That's why, apart from pensions, our House has also decided to give yachts for representation purposes to those noblemen who are in certain financial difficulties so that they can lead a life in keeping with their status."

Wow, they live here! Mentally marveled at Alex. So, if any of the noble class cannot degrade further on their own money, they will be provided with everything they need from the treasury. I wonder how much this 'poverty allowance' is?

"Is that why you bought three hundred boats?" Nadine innocently asked.

"Why not? We can afford it!" Lord Athand shrugged. "And besides, we have over a hundred clans in our House - they are quite numerous, and we are even thinking of increasing the number of yachts!"

Nadine stepped forward and asked, narrowing her eyes slightly:

"And the fact that the yachts purchased turned out to be Aegis models is surely a coincidence?"

"A reliable yacht, well established. And spacious, and very many ladies prefer to travel with a rather large entourage."

"Yes?" Nadine was indignant. "The fact that this ship has nearly corvette-like fields... The fact that it can be armed in two hours by four technicians... The fact that it has two moorings to which your stormtroopers can easily dock... Is that all it takes, a cute little thing? And then, of course, it's purely coincidental, just a silly coincidence, that House Fyron has decided to increase the number of Stormtroopers by six hundred vehicles. Isn't it?"

"The Stormtroopers are being ramped up in line with the planetary security plan," Lord Athand replied in a condescending tone of voice. "And the Aegis' external sling assemblies are used to transport flyers and shuttles, as you know...

"You're simply bypassing the Emperor's edict limiting the number of hyperdrive warships!" Nadina persisted.

"The Aegis is a civilian ship. And besides, the Emperor's representative found no wrongdoing in that." Lord Athand replied with a smile, taking advantage of Baron Antrem's argument, which was what Nadine was defending.

"Please, no more politics," pleaded Lord Asparo Velaske, who was acting as the organizer of the current Voigrom from the House of Melato. "We are, after all, on a hunt, not at a meeting of the Council of Great Houses."

"Yeah, well, you don't have to worry about that since the entire Imperial fleet is at the disposal of House Melato," Nadine quipped.

She stood up from the table, adjusting the dress that didn't exist, and turned to Alex with a cold smile:

"Thank you for playing, Lord Cassard. You have been a pleasant partner. And congratulations on your victory, dear Lartar, and to you, Lady Kayrin. My loss will be brought to you by my secretary," with these words, she quickly left the games room.

"Pity the Lady Nadine has left us," Asmi sighed, leaning back in her chair and picking up her glass of wine, "Now we'll have to find another person for the fourth pair. Lady Kayrin, will you continue to be my partner?"

And, after waiting for Baroness Rionale to nod, the esteemed Lartar suggested:

"Another match, then? Just find the eighth..."

"Dear Asmee, I'm a little tired, so I'm going to hold off," Alex said. "And I'm not much of a player, so you can play three doubles."

He put his loss on the table - two cards of five thousand denarii - and hurriedly slipped away before Baroness Rionale could think of anything. After all, he had come to this Voigrom to meet Liora, and that was a meeting best held without witnesses.

Well, almost no witnesses - Taer will know anyway. Alex mentally corrected himself.

During the day's flight from Copeira to Estella (where the Voigrom was taking place), he decided, after much deliberation, to tell Taer everything, believing, not unreasonably, that he could not do without confidants, and that much depended on Taer as it was. His only concern was whether his "security specialist" was "snitching" to Countess Durlurl, so to speak, "for old times' sake". Intuition said no snitching - not the right person - and reason countered that given the panic-stricken terror, Taer felt towards her former boss, she should only "ask properly" for her to tell it all herself. But, in any case, hiding from someone who literally follows you around and sleeps in the next bedroom is extremely problematic. So when Taer came into his quarters to report on the execution of the security arrangements, Alex decided to have a 'heart-to-heart' talk.

* * *

A short, rather timid knock on the door distracted Alex from his meditative contemplation. He stared at the blue pulsing fabric of hyperspace that rippled outside the window. It was his way of trying to cope with the excess of emotions and impressions. Just ten days ago, he could only dream of flying into space, and now he was aboard his own goddamn yacht, flying to another star to hunt some native beasties there.

People have gone crazy for less.

He grinned and placed his hand on the cool surface of the huge window that occupied a good half of one of the bedroom walls. Beneath his palm, behind the thin layer of glass and force fields, a living hyper tunnel glittered and pulsed as if it were alive. The one his yacht had pierced through on its way to Estelle.

The knock on the door was repeated, this time more audacious.

"It's open!" Alex shouted, plopping down on the long sofa along the window, covered with the snow-white skins of some very furry but unlucky animal.

The door, finished in light red polished wood, slid open to the side, and Taer stepped into the cabin. As usual, in her perfectly white uniform, she carried a large plastic container in her hand, and a stylish leather folder with an infoblock tucked under her arm.

"I hope I haven't disturbed you too much, Your Lordship?" inquired the 'security specialist' with as cold a smile as possible.

After the story that happened in Isalaya's bedroom during the Unification Feast, Taer took offense and was again very formal, knocking every time and wondering at every opportunity: "Am I disturbing Your Lordship too much?"

The problem was exacerbated by the fact that it was Alex, with a protocol face, who told the bursting expert that it wouldn't be a bad idea to knock first. Lady Isalaya the Marquise of Turang, on the other hand, expressed herself in less conventional... in far less... or should I say, not conventional at all. Hypothetically, the Lady and Marquess should not have known such expressions at all, but not only did she know them, but she masterfully applied them, flashing at least a couple of very original idioms in the process. However, her ladyship was excused by the fact that it was her shoulder that had been struck by the paralyzing discharge fired "on reflex" by Taer.

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

The Marquise dodged the second shot, which was aimed at her head, with an inhuman reaction and fell on top of Alex. Thanks to this, the incident had been free of casualties and destruction. The only casualties were a healthy black and purple bruise on Isalaia's shoulder and a shattered kneecap on the shoulder of one of her Arm's guardsmen who had attempted to stop the "security specialist" from coming to her aid. Mere trifles, really.

If it had hit the awning in the face, it would not have helped to change the façade of the dress. But everyone got off lightly. However, the understanding of the "bodyguard" was lost. When it became clear that what was happening in the bedroom was clearly not a threat to the life and health of the Lord (rather the opposite), Taer began to babble, apologize for her hasty actions and explain that the induced reactions required her to shoot first and then deal with ...

This was where Alex should have sided with his "specialist" - after all, responding to any suspicious rumbling and shouting was her direct responsibility, even if the rumbling and shouting were due to entanglement in the sheets and falling off the bed directly onto the tiny dessert table due to over-occupation with what was happening and because of the incredible energy of Marquise Turang. But instead of saying something like, "Oh, come on, Taer, it's all right - it's your job," Alex made an obviously silly remark about knocking and trying not to be disturbed.

On the other hand, at the most important moment - crashing to the floor and smashing the table to pieces, when someone bursts in and starts shooting... I should be given a medal for composure - how did I manage not to yell in foul language, "stepping on a cat in a dark room"? Congenital aristocratism for sure!

Anyway, since then, there have been cold shades in the relationship with the 'specialist' because Taer considered herself guiltlessly offended in the best of feelings, and she was even right in some ways.

On the other hand, maybe she's just jealous. Alex wondered, hypothetically, while pointing to the opposite chair. But after thinking about it, he dismissed that option. It's called overconfidence. You're an irresistible heartbreaker, sure!"

"Have a seat, Taer. What brings you here?"

"I've brought you a report on the measures to strengthen your security, as well as a report on how the allocated funds have been spent," the "specialist," said as she seated herself on the edge of her chair.

"Well, come on, it's interesting," Alex leaned forward, looking at the girl with interest.

Taer opened the container and took out a rather large suppressor shaped like a truncated pyramid. The suppressor was placed directly on the floor in the center of the cabin. When the yellow light on top of it flashed, and the room was filled with a quiet hum, the 'specialist' took an infoblock out of her folder and began to read it out:

"During the reporting period, five standard days, the following items were purchased as part of the security enhancements: one stationary, pulsating-type protective field generator with continuous operation of the Saphiron model, three high-speed flyers for planets with high radiation fields of the Porolir model with protection level IM99, personal shields of Sorquim Labs, two of them," Taer interrupted, coughing into her white glove and continued reading again:

"In addition, an increase in staffing was made to support the security plan. For this purpose, three Master Pilots with the specialization of "assault" were hired, and two Master Field and information systems operators were hired. They all have a standard five-year contract, with a salary of thirty-five thousand danarii per year for Pilots, thirty-seven thousand per year for Master Information System Operators, thirty-nine thousand per year for Master Field Operators," Taer paused again and looked expressively at Alex:

"If I may remind you, Your Lordship, you should pay your attention to the question of the status of the people hired, namely the Pilots and the Information Systems Operator - do you wish them to be included in your Arm or not?"

"What's the difference?" Alex queried with interest as he watched the performance of the 'Taer official offended'.

"The difference in status and position in society - being part of the Arm of the Lord is very honorable. According to the Imperial Edict on the Guard, it is compulsory for all those holding combat positions or positions equated to them to be enrolled in the Arm of the nobility. Therefore a Master Field Operator must necessarily be included in your Arm. Pilots, because they drive non-combat vehicles and information systems operators, may not be in the Arm, but may be on the list of employees.

"What would you advise?" Alex asked, getting up from the sofa and heading for the panel behind which, if he remembered the captain's explanation correctly, there should have been a bar.

"I would suggest, as a morale booster, that you take all the replenishments under your Arm. However, you should remember, Your Grace, that the size of the Arm is limited by Imperial edict. For the Lords of the Empire and their equals, it is one thousand men."

"How many people are in my Arm now?" Alex asked, hiding almost waist-deep in the alcove where the bar was located - nothing non-alcoholic could be found yet.

Tinkling with the stash of bottles, he asked: "By the way, Taer, do you want anything?"

"Thank you, Your Lordship, but I am on duty, and so I will refrain," the girl mouthed and added: "There is one man in your hand at the moment."

"Well, I don't see the problem then," his lordship shrugged as he approached Taer with two bottles and glasses. "We'll put them all in the Arm."

He sat down comfortably at the girl's feet, stooping down on the thick and fluffy dark red carpet that covered the bedroom floor. He opened one of the bottles and sniffed carefully at its contents.

"Hmm, juice, I think, for cocktails. What do you prefer, Taer? Juice or Bentar's Dew? It was recommended to me as a decent wine."

"Thank you, but nothing, Your Lordship! I'm sorry," she said, pushing herself deeper into her chair and moving her legs away from Alex.

"Well, suit yourself. If you change your mind, here..." he set the wine glass on the armrest of her chair and took a sip of the juice himself.

"If Your Lordship sees fit to enlist all the replenishment into your Arm, then you must also choose your First Arm. This man will be the First Sword of your Retinue." Taer was silent for a moment, raising her eyes to the ceiling as if remembering something. "And since you are the only one in your Clan and Domain - this man will also be the First Blade of the Domain and thus will be among the Blades of the House..." Taer, only now beginning to think what her words meant, spoke more and more quietly, and her voice began to lose confidence again. "Which means bringing him to knighthood, which can only be awarded to the most worthy..." she quoted the last words almost in a whisper, then fumbled for her glass and drained it in a gulp.

It had somehow never occurred to Taer that the growth in the number of her lord's arm might well have the prefix Daim in front of her name...

"And who would you recommend for the job?" Alex asked innocently as he refilled the Bentar dew into his 'specialist' glass.

"I don't know, Your Lordship. I think someone you can trust. You know best..." said Taer, barely audible, taking the newly filled glass in her hands.

"You know," Alex sighed. "I wish the person I could trust was you. You help me a lot, especially now that I can barely remember anything." He paused, took a small sip of juice, and, with a heavy sigh, continued:

"And, by the way, I'm sorry that I said "you should knock" back then - I was wrong. I really could have been killed there, and you were absolutely right."

"Erm... thank you, Your Lordship, it's my duty..." Taer whispered, still a little baffled by the prospect.

"...Two things really worry me," Alex went on, not noticing the babble of his 'specialist'. "The first is that you didn't come to my service on your own, but you were appointed by the Consulate. That is, it was not your own choice but the idea of your superiors. Maybe you saw it all in a coffin?" he asked, finishing the rest of the juice.

"Saw what?" Taer asked again, her eyes widening in surprise.

"I mean, maybe you don't like it at all and would rather do something else or serve somewhere else?"

Taer thought about it:

"No, Your Lordship, I wouldn't want to serve anywhere else. I'm glad I am, in fact, to be serving with you."

"That's good!" Alex smiled. "Then there's the second thing that worries me."

"Even two moments," he added, thinking, "Your excessive piety for Countess Durlurl and your resentfulness. I'm not perfect, of course. (Alex was going to say "not an angel," but who knows if there are angels around.) And I'm a bit of a nuisance, but you're a good one, too. You're the one who starts mumbling "Your Lordship" and walking around with an impenetrable face. That's not the way to do it!" He stated categorically and looked at Taer, waiting for her reaction.

The girl sat in her chair with a sort of distracted look on her face and looked through her lord. So the prospect of a knighthood seems to have struck my specialist to the core. Realizing that a coherent response from her now would be impossible, Alex continued:

"I would like my relationship with my First Blade to be more friendly. Something more than a boss-subordinate relationship. And more trusting," Alex added, refilling his juice.

He twirled his glass thoughtfully in his hands and, after taking a small sip, said:

"You know, I need someone to lean on, someone I can trust 100%. And I'm willing to encourage that person in every way, both in terms of status and financially. Encourage him very generously. I would like to see a hundred percent loyalty in return. And not blind loyalty but a conscious and proactive one. That's why I'm concerned about your attitude towards Countess Durlurl. I have certain tensions with her, and the fact that Taer Diltar's guardsman is afraid of her makes me somewhat uneasy. Can I trust Daim Taer not to be afraid of Daim Esta?" he asked, staring intently at the specialist.

"Yes, my lord... I mean, Alex," Taer assured him in a daze and asked cautiously. "What's your problem with Countess Durlurl?"

"Um... how can I put this..." Alex started to drag it out, frantically thinking about what to tell the 'specialist' and what not to. "Anyway, she wants me to marry Valerie Bellar, and I don't want to."

Well, don't get married. She can't force you to, especially since you'll soon be one of the Privy, and she'll be forced to listen to you.

Yeah, except Countess Durlurlle is threatening to bury me before she'd let me, so scary, into the Privy Council, Alex thought unhappily. And I haven't got the tools to bury the Countess before she can bury me. I don't have a ready-made "my lady" and I don't have my own secret service - I'll have to grow from what I have... with unpredictable results.

There was Isalaya - far more suited to the role of "my lady" - but the loyalty of the lovely marquise was so dubious to Alex that he regarded her only as a "temporary ally"... well, as a fabulous mistress, of course.

"You see, the Countess thinks I'm an Adept," Alex admitted, deciding there was no point in keeping it from Taer. If she's going to tell anyone, it'll be the same Countess who already knows everything. "And she said she'd do anything to keep the Adept out of the Privy Council. Like, tell the Inquisition about it. Or somehow she would use the resources available to her."

She almost choked on her wine when she heard the word - Adept. She swallowed frantically and asked cautiously: "And you are... an adept?"

Who the hell knows?

"How do I know? From what I understand, no, I'm not adept. But I'm not even sure I understand what an adept is," Alex sighed.

"An Adept is a specially trained initiated psionic," Taer came to the rescue, clearly quoting some long-remembered text. "Adepts have different talents, but most of them can influence other people's thinking and sense of the future. Initiation greatly affects the mindset of the adept, making them mentally unstable and socially dangerous. Adepts must strictly control their emotions and adhere to special psychological techniques to maintain their sanity. After the Orders of Guardians showed their inability to control adepts, the Inquisition was established to control and select stable adepts and isolate or destroy unstable ones."

The last words about "isolation and extermination" Taer spoke in a dropped voice, looking frightened at Alex.

"I'm not adept!" he reassured her. "I can't read minds, and I can't seem to see the future, either. And then, as I understand it, I've already been tested."

But the real Lord Cassard might have been. Who the hell knows?

"An uninitiated psionic or specially trained adept is very hard to detect if he doesn't use his abilities." The girl cheered him on.

"I got that from Countess Durlurl," Alex nodded with a sigh. "But I don't think I'm adept. She suggested I marry Valerie as a compromise, saying that if I did, I would not harm the House. But if I don't..." Alex traced an eloquent finger across his throat. "That's the kind of trouble I have with her."

Taer looked thoughtfully at the wine in her glass, then looked up at Alex and asked quietly:

"Maybe it's not such a bad idea. You've never been interested in politics, so losing your seat on the Privy Council isn't a tragedy. And Valerie's a pretty girl and a Ruling Lady, after all. Or..." Her face lit up with inspiration. "You love Isalaya, don't you? But I don't think Valerie would interfere with your relationship..."

Alex stared thoughtfully at Taer, trying to work out whether this was a carefully considered speech from the talented actress and agent of influence of Countess Durlurl or - a genuine concern for his safety coupled with the romantic naivety of youth.

No, she seems to be sincere - "Katz offers to surrender!" Fuck you, gentlemen - the Russians don't surrender! - he decided with cheerful anger. - Some little brat is going to decide who I will or will not marry...

"You know, I think we can surrender at any moment. But I don't want anyone deciding what to do for me. I don't want to have a conflict with Countess Durlurl (just because her chances in this conflict look much better), but I don't want to put up with her diktat either."

"What to do then?"

"I don't know! Thinking is the first priority. Maybe there's some method of proving that I'm not adept?"

"A check by the Inquisition might confirm that you are not an Adept... And if you are?" Taer put the glass back on the armrest and leaned toward Alex.

If it's a yes, then it's a shame. And then to the bonfire or whatever they do to the adepts here. And if not, there's nothing to stop the Countess from still pushing for the purely political benefits of her alliance with Bentar.

"So it's not an option," Alex concluded.

The option is to "whack" the countess and replace her with someone more loyal. According to Isalaya, 'killing' is being done right now, but 'bringing in someone loyal' is a problem, so it's better to put off 'killing' for the time being.

"Well, I hope we can work something out." Alex got up from the floor. "By the way, what are these?" He asked, pointing to the two massive thick padded belts and a set of massive bracelets that were in the container by Taer.

"It's personal shields," she informed me as she took the belt out of the container. "I was talking about them. It's powerful enough to absorb a dozen or so blaster shots or the energy of a small explosive device. I'd advise you to keep it on while you're hunting since it'll be more difficult to keep you safe when you're there." She added grudgingly.

"You see, I have to meet Liora there," Alex admitted.

"Well, if a date with this girl is worth risking your life..." the specialist said.

Right, she's a romantic... Do they have chivalrous novels here too?

"Erm... she's not just a girl, she's a Representative of the Rebels - they've offered me cooperation..." Alex said, a little shyly.

"Whose Representative?!"

Taer moved sharply forward, and in doing so, she knocked the glass off the armrest. The glass fell to the floor with a melodious clink and a dark stain of spilled wine spread across the carpet.

"Damn shadows!" She scolded as she raised her glass. "Do you have any idea what you're dealing with? If the SS gets wind of this...!"

"I understand, but they were the first to report anything intelligible about the assassination attempts on me, which is, you know, very important information... from my point of view," Alex excused himself.

"And what did they report?" With doubt in her voice, Taer asked.

"It's a long story..." Alex sighed and began to tell her what Liora, "Madam Representative", had told him.

His story was received with great skepticism - Taer suggested that the 'rebels' themselves had organized the second attempt to gain Lord Cassard's support. She suggested that, before it was too late, all communication with them should cease. He had had similar thoughts, but in the letter he had received after the trial, Liora had hinted at some new and important information "on a case of interest to you'.

"...That's why I decided to go to the Voigrom."

"If someone still wants to eliminate you, there's no better place and time to do it than on the hunt," Taer muttered, folding her arms across her chest.

"I know," Alex agreed. "And what to do?"

The question was clearly rhetorical, so Taer did not answer it. She got up from the chair and headed for the exit from the bedroom, turning around just inside the door:

"I hope this information is worth it." And went out into the corridor.

And how I hope so... Alex flopped down on the huge bed, draped in black silk bedspreads.

Outside the window, the hypertunnel pulsed in a blue haze.

"Damn, what a mess I've been in!" He complained aloud.

* * *