him; flipped my tunic-sash up and then down in a wide loop that snapped it tight around his neck.

Gaylord jerked back in mid-stride. He started to cry out.

Savagely, I wrenched the sash-noose tighter. The cry cut off unuttered. When my victim would have struggled, I dragged him back off balance and rammed a knee into his spine.

Rizal's controller made small, choking sounds. His eyes began to bulge, his face to darken.

Jerking him back into the offset niche between the double doors, out of view, I spoke into his ear: "Calm down, you fool! I don't want to kill you."

His eyes rolled wildly, trying to glimpse me. He stopped struggling.

Warily, I loosened the noose ... waited while he sucked in air in great, chest-filling gulps.

But not for too long. Before he could stop shaking or have time really to think, I said, "Gaylord, we're going upstairs. If anyone tries to stop us, you're the one who'll get it."

I shoved him forward as I finished, and the inner doors opened. The sash a deadly bond between us, we crossed the lobby.

Into the shaft-lift, then. My prisoner shot me an uncertain glance, half hate and half fear. "I don't see why you had to do it this way. I'd have met you at that thil-shop like you said."

"Maybe." I shrugged. "That's not the question."

"Not the question—?"

"We're getting out on whichever floor Kruze has taken over."

A panicky stiffening. "Oh!"

"Come on, come on! Which floor is it?"

"Seven."

"Good enough." I punched the button and we zoomed upward. "There'll be a guard on duty, of course. You might think about how you're going to get us past him."

Gaylord looked a little green.

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