Dan smiled as he recalled the time they'd spent together. He remembered fondly their aimless wanderings over the island the day before and how they'd begun to anticipate the other one would finish sentences. Hell. Half our conversations ran unspoken, yet fully understood.Then when they'd rummaged through the shops and galleries in the small civilian village ComStar allowed on the island, they discovered how parallel were their tastes.

And their lovemaking. At first urgent, but always gentle and loving, it was more than just the joining of their flesh. They hungered for each other and yet hungered to please. Wants and desires, spoken or unvoiced, were met eagerly as each partner physically shared the love that was welding their spirits together.

Dan sighed. I'm so happy it scares me. From these emotional heights, about all I can be sure of is that eventually I'll fall. I hate to be apart from Jeana but, like tonight, I have no choice. I am a mercenary and she serves the Lyran royal house. I have her heart, yet I seem to need to cling to something more solid. . .

Dan turned off the main path and carefully made his way along a flagstone pathway heading east. Silhouetted against a background of moonsplashed ocean, the bungalow was set amid a stand of pines. A wide porch surrounded the squat building, with pillars at each corner to support the steeply pitched roof.

Dan mounted the wooden steps, quickly crossed the wooden deck, and knocked on the wooden door. "It's Dan, dad."

Quintus Allard smiled as he opened the door. "Didn't expect to see you here, Dan."

Dan shrugged. "I saw mother at the reception and she said you'd soon be joining her. I thought I'd take a chance at finding you here so we can talk." Dan glanced down at his boots. "I mean . . . well, I assume that if any place on this island is secure, it's this one . . ."

Quintus nodded and waved his son into the bungalow's huge parlor. The center third of the back wall was made of glass, giving both father and son an excellent view of the ocean and a stretch of white beach. The glass wall extended halfway up the roof to form a partial skylight that provided the added spectacle of the brilliant, crescent moon.

The cream-colored carpet matched the walls, giving the room a light, airy feel. A lazy fan turned slowly on the room's cavernous ceiling. Dan flinched as he saw the various neo-cubist paintings decorating the walls, but he realized they'd been selected because their colors matched the more subtle and subdued rose and blue tones in the overstuffed chairs, couch, and loveseat arranged in the center of the room. A huge hearth of roughly finished stones dominated the exterior wall, and across from it, a short hall led deeper into the bungalow.

Dan looked at the papers scattered on the couch, then spied a tumbler half-filled with amber liquid on a glass-topped table between the overstuffed chairs. Pointing at the glass, Dan said, "I hope I didn't interrupt anything."

"Not at all, son. I had just poured myself a drink when you knocked." The elder Allard pointed toward the hallway. "I've got a fully stocked bar in the kitchen. Want anything?"

Dan shook his head. Someone was here. You don't drink alone, father, and you don't drink whiskey."You're a lousy liar, you know."

Quintus Allard gave his son a wry grin. "Taken to calling your father a liar now, Dan?" He shook his head with exaggerated remorse. "I guess it must be true that being a mercenary does sap a MechWarrior of his moral fiber."

"Touche," Dan laughed. He pointed to the drink. "You don't have to finish it to convince me."

"Thank God. Scotch is awful."

Dan nodded sympathetically as he seated himself in the nearest of the overstuffed chairs. He turned it to face the chair his father had taken, which also gave him a partial view of the ocean beyond. As he sat down, Dan heard something scrabble its way onto the roof.

Quintus noted his concern but waved it away. "Racoons. This is one of the last few places you can see the real thing in the wild. ComStar reintroduced them from zoo stock about a century ago."

Dan smiled. "They really have changed Terra, haven't they? Coming in on the DropShip, no one could have guessed how bad things must have been in the wars before ComStar took over the planet."

Quintus nodded. "I assume you did not come here to talk about ComStar's successes at terraforming Terra herself."

Dan chewed his lower lip. "True." He smiled weakly. "I've met a woman-—actually we first met on Tharkad—but I've seen her here again. I. . ."

Quintus leaned back in his chair. "You're in love with her."

Dan nodded. "I think so. Hell, I know so."

Quintus smiled broadly. "Good. I'm happy for you, Dan. Your mother will maintain she's too young to be a grandmother, but I won't mind having a new Allard generation running around." Quintus winked. "And I know your grandfather would love it."

Dan held his hands up. "Whoa! Not so fast. I didn't come here to tell you to ask the Prince to make this a double wedding. But yes, I do love this woman, and I think she shares my feelings." Dan sighed heavily. "I trust her more than I trust the people in my 'Mech lance, but there are some things she can't tell me about herself. I want to know if you can do some background work for me?"

Quintus narrowed his eyes. "You mean you want me to abuse my office as the acting Minister of Intelligence, Information, and Operations of the Federated Suns?"

Dan smiled nervously. "Please?"

The elder Allard nodded. "Of course, son. What do you know about her?"

Dan swallowed hard and concentrated. "She's just a bit shorter than me and not a gram more than sixty kilos. Her hair is brown and her eyes green ..."

"Those can be changed," Quintus said.

Dan nodded. "True. She calls herself Jeana and I'd guess she's in her late twenties to early thirties. I think she trained as a MechWarrior, but she's got no scars or wounds from combat. She's here with the Lyran royal party and says she is very close to the Archon-Designate."

Quintus raised a white eyebrow at the last remark. "Could be LIC. Anything else?"

Dan looked up at the ceiling as he tried to remember any other clue Jeana might have let slip during their time together. As he opened his mouth to add one more detail to the list, he saw something shadowy through the skylight. The room's soft light congealed around and flashed from one part of the shape, spurring Dan into action.

Gathering his feet beneath his seat, Dan launched himself at his father in a tackle that hit Quintus high on the chest. Enfolding his arms around the Count, Dan twisted, wrenching both men free of the overstuffed chair and spinning them into the short hallway.

Above them, spears of flame shot from the submachine gun's muzzle. A hail of bullets blasted through the skylight, cutting a ragged line of holes across the carpet. The projectile stream sawed Quintus's chair into a cloud of wooden splinters and feathers. The stuttering explosions drowned out the whine of ricocheting bullets and the crash of falling glass.

Using his momentum, Dan tossed his father deeper into the hallway, then looked back up at the assassin. The muzzle flame's backlight etched deep canyons in the gunman's hateful face and stained his broad teeth blood-red. Dan felt terror ripple through his body as their gazes met. Grinning madly, the assassin swung the gun toward the hallway.

An overwhelmingly brilliant green light seared its way into the room. Squinting against the painfully intense illumination, Dan saw a narrow, scintillating beam slice up into the gunman's left flank, right below his ribs, then burst free through the man's right shoulder. The gunman stiffened as though every muscle in his body had tensed with the extra energy. When the green light vanished abruptly, the assassin collapsed like a marionette whose strings have been cut. Falling forward, the man somersaulted, landing on his back amid the skylight's ruins and floating white chair feathers.