abruptly, the moment passed. With a curse, I sat up straight, my mood gone suddenly savage.

Celeste's eyes distended. She started to draw away.

I caught her wrist fast; jerked her back. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Mark, please—!"

"Forget it. It's my turn for questions." And then, tightening my grip: "Who's supplying those thrill-mills?"

A thin white line of pain had formed round her lips. But she spoke coolly, levelly: "The Kel, of course."

In spite of myself, I breathed in sharply. "And you—?"

"I survived Bejak II. The price was to help them."

"The thrill-mills—"

"They're part of a plan. Man's conditioned consistency was a bit difficult for the Kel to handle. They felt the simplest solution was to upset the conditioning." A pause. "Thanks to you, they'll probably succeed."

"Thanks to me—!"

"Yes. You see"—a smile, without mirth—"the Kel are shape-shifters. They can take any form. Tonight, an infiltration party will move into Rizal's defenses and take over the posts of the men you had seized. No one will know them from the originals. By morning, there'll be a Kel ship dropping down in the port without interference. After which, we'll all be utilized as laboratory animals for various experiments. The Kel feel we're ideal for that role."

"You know, and you didn't warn us? Your own race; your own people?" I stared at the girl in numb horror, her beauty turning to ashes before my eyes.

Only there was no time for numbness, nor for recrimination. I had too many things to do; too large a role to play.

I came up fast, dragging the woman bodily with me. "Get me out of here. Now, before I kill you."

She tottered, wincing and cringing as I twisted her arm slowly round. But as before, her voice stayed strangely level. "I'm sorry, Mark. I can't do that."

"You're going to!"

 Prev. P 23/55 next