And gasped in shock as the impact of landing sent a stab of pain up through her left knee.

"Damn!" she hissed under her breath, rolling awkwardly over to a sitting position and clenching her leg tightly. For a long and terrifying minute she was afraid the vaunted Cobra equipment had failed her, that she'd actually succeeded in spraining or even breaking the joint. But finally the pain began to ease, and in another minute she was able to scramble carefully to her feet and start limping toward the administrative center.

She hadn't yet figured out how she was going to cover that much floodlit ground without being seen, but fortunately that problem solved itself. She'd taken only a few steps before the lights abruptly cut off, plunging the compound again into darkness. Excitement's over, folks; go to bed, she thought, increasing her speed to a sort of syncopated trot. Now if the freshly relaxed security extended to the doors of the administrative center...

Surprisingly, it did. Even more surprisingly, it also extended to the lower levels of the building where her cell was located; though once she thought about it it was obvious that any preliminary interrogation of their new prisoners would be taking place upstairs in Obolo's throne room. She hoped Daulo would remember to leave her out of whatever story he and Akim told them.

The guards she'd stunned were still lying unconscious in the washroom where she'd left them. Retrieving them, she treated each to another blast from her sonic as a precaution and then carried them back to their posts. A quick study of the cell door; then, raising her fingertip lasers, she burned a spectacular but shallow arc part of the way around the lock area. Not too much, she warned herself. Your theoretical rescuer didn't get very far, remember. When Obolo sent someone to check on her-as he eventually would-there had to be a plausible explanation as to why the guards had been knocked unconscious but Jin still a prisoner. Whatever conclusion Obolo came to, it ought to be possible to bend it to her own ends. She hoped.

A minute later she was back in her cell, relocking it behind her via the exposed mechanism. Replacing the metal plate over the opening was somewhat trickier, but by softening it first with her lasers she was able to smooth it back without leaving any major stress wrinkles to show it had once been off.

And after that there was nothing to do but wait. We'll let the offworlder spy kill them for us, Obolo had told his son. Jin had no idea how he planned to do it; but if he wanted to do it properly he would need to at least have Jin in the same room with Daulo and Akim before they were killed.

She hoped to God that Obolo would want to do it properly.

"In the name of the Shahni," Akim intoned formally, "I hereby charge you with treason against Qasama. All here are released of vows of loyalty to others and ordered to surrender to my authority."

A fine speech, Daulo thought; delivered with just the right combination of command and righteous anger.

It would undoubtedly have sounded even better if he and Akim hadn't been on their knees with their hands manacled behind them.

Seated on his cushions, Obolo Nardin raised a bored eyebrow. "You maintain your dignity well, Miron Akim," he said in a raspy voice. "So. You have said the required words. Now tell me the reason for which you charge my household with treason."

Akim's lip twisted. "Or in other words, what do the Shahni know about your treachery? Don't be foolish."

Obolo chuckled humorlessly. "Better and better. Now you seek to plant doubt within me as to whether any of my plans are known outside the walls of Mangus.

Unfortunately, your attempts are useless. You forget that I know exactly what the Shahni know of me... which is nothing at all."

There was a flurry of movement behind them. Daulo risked turning his head away from Obolo Nardin, received a slap from one of his guards for his trouble. But not before he saw that it was an unsteady Radig Nardin who was being helped into the room. He focused on Obolo again, but if the other man was concerned over his son's health, it wasn't visible. "Well, Radig Nardin?" he asked. "You were sent to detain them. Why did you fail?"

Radig passed the two prisoners, throwing acid looks at them as he did so. "They ambushed me, my father. One of the guards who was with me may not survive the night."

"Indeed?" Obolo's voice was cold. "Were five then not enough against two?"

Radig refused to shrivel under his father's gaze. "No, my father. Not when they were armed with devices of offworld origin."

Daulo felt his stomach knot up. "Explain," Obolo ordered.

Radig nodded to one of his men, who stepped forward and made the sign of respect. "We found severe burns on and around an electrical socket in the hallway where Master Nardin was attacked," he told Obolo. "Clearly the source of the bright flash that was used against him."

"Indeed." Obolo shifted his eyes to another man standing by. "Bring the offworlder woman." The other nodded and hurried out.

Beside him, Daulo felt Akim stiffen. "What is this about an offworlder woman?" he asked cautiously.

"We have the Aventinian spy you've been seeking," Obolo told him calmly. "She's been our prisoner since morning."

Akim seemed to digest that. "Then perhaps your activities this evening can yet be overlooked," he suggested slowly. "The Shahni are very anxious to find and interrogate this spy. If you release her to me, I'm sure any other problems between you and the Shahni can be... worked out."

Daulo held his breath... but Obolo merely smiled. "You disappoint me, Miron

Akim. The lie saturates both your face and your voice. However-" He raised a finger "-I'll grant you this much: you'll have your chance to interrogate the spy before we kill her."

Akim didn't reply.

"And you, Daulo Sammon," Obolo said, turning his eyes on Daulo. His shining eyes, Daulo noted, feeling a tightness in his throat. Jin had been right; the man was high on mind stimulants. "What is your interest in Mangus?"

Daulo considered fabricating a lie, decided it wasn't worth the effort. "The same interest any rational Qasaman would have in a nest of treason," he bit out.

"I came to find out what you were doing here, and to stop you."

For a long moment Obolo continued to gaze at him. "You aren't yet defeated, are you, Daulo Sammon?" he said at last. Thoughtfully. "Your friend there is, though he hopes against hope for rescue. But you are not. Why? Is it simply that you don't realize what's at stake here?"

Daulo shook his head silently.

"Answer!" Radig snarled, taking a threatening step toward him.

"Peace, my son," Obolo told him calmly. "Whatever secret Daulo Sammon thinks he possesses, it'll be ours soon enough." Abruptly, he leaned over toward his table and touched a button. "Yes?"

The voice was unintelligible from where Daulo knelt, but even so he could hear the nervous excitement in it. A tight smile tugged at Obolo's lips...

"Interesting, though not entirely unexpected. Alert all guard posts and have a full sweep made of the grounds."

He leaned back into his cushions and glanced up at Radig. "As I said, my son,

Daulo Sammon's secret is now ours. It seems the woman wasn't the sole survivor of her spacecraft's destruction."

Radig's hand strayed to the grip of the pistol belted at his side. "She's gone?"

"Her associate was fortunately not that competent," Obolo told him, eyes drifting to Daulo again. "Or perhaps he was sent on an errand. Did she tell him through the door that you needed aid?"

"If you're suggesting I would associate myself with an offworlder spy-" Daulo began.

"It hardly matters anymore," Obolo cut him off coldly. "Except possibly to you.

You may be able to buy yourself a painless death if you can tell us where the other offworlder is."