"I leave the problem of my arrest to your sensibilities, Minister." He turned to her, gray ice in his gae. "However, were I making the decisions, I'd finish the job this pus-searing sun started, and melt this hellhole to slag with a cobalt bomb."
She nodded thoughtfully and was surprised when he looked at her again. "The only other request I make is that anyone you punish, you kill outright. Enslave none of them."
"Very well." She fought the urge to gasp in the heat, wishing she had worn anything but black in this burning waste. How many pounds had she sweated out in the five hours since They left Etarus? She appraised him again, noting the hard set of his jaw. How in the name of the Rotted Gods had even he survived? How could anyone live — let alone work — in that?
He looks like a man returned from hell. The glare in his eyes is that of a fanatic. For what? What has the desert, the heat, and the degradation done to him?
They set down minutes later before the Internal Security Directorate. Ily led Staff a and his slave woman into the building. "The Director's offices have complete facilities. Tyklat, find some proper clothing for the Lord Commander and his… lady."
Staffa glared at her. "Get the thrice-cursed collar off me! Now!"
"Tyklat?" Ily raised an eyebrow.
For the first time, Tyklat seemed flustered. "My Lord Minister, I fear the equipment to do that. well, we can put them on here, but take them off, I don't know."
"Give me a blaster." Staffa's muscles rippled. "I'll take the Rotted thing off."
Ily smiled, raising her hand. "I don't think we need to get that carried away. Tyklat, get the equipment. I don't care if you have to turn the city over."
Staffa glanced nervously at her and nodded, the control override jealousy guarded as they entered the main lobby.
Ily climbed the stairs, noticing the veiled woman who waited outside Tyklat's office. Her robes looked well to do and Ily could feel the woman's stare through the gauze. Some matron ratting on her husband for turning the servant perhaps? Why did these simple Etarians insist on their proper women wearing that ridiculous veil? It seemed ludicrous when they let their Priests pimp.
She opened the door and waved Staffa into the Director's spacious office. The slave woman followed, tall and straight, tan eyes catching each detail.
"The bath is through there." Ily motioned and tapped the intercom. "I will need a complete meal served for three with lots of beverages-and, as you value life, you will spare no expense. "
She watched Staffa and the woman disappear into the lavatory before settling into the plush contouring chair behind Kapstan's old desk and considering the developments. Who is this new Staffa? How do I bend him to my will?
Tyklat entered, bearing serviceable clothing if not the absolute finest. He deposited the garments in the dressing room, returning to inquire whether she needed anything else.
"I think that will do, Tyklat. Your service will be remembered. I want you to find out about this slave woman. Who is she? What's her history?"
"I've already checked, Ily. She is Kaylla Dawn, formerly the hand servant to the First Lady of Maika."
"Very good, Tyklat. If I ring, come and claim the girl. he was enslaved for a crime, I take it?"
The corner of his mouth lifted. "Murder of her master, Ily. A most heinous crime."
"And the equipment to remove the collar?" "Downstairs. It should be here in a moment."
Ily glanced toward the bath and lowered her voice. "Take your time. "
She ran her hand down his, touch light. His expression reflected his understanding of the potential implications. "Tyklat, have you ever thought about leaving Etarus? Perhaps to take a higher post in the Empire?"
"Constantly, Lord Minister," he replied artfully as he left the room on silent feet.
Staffa stepped out of the bath with his long black hair twisted over his
left ear as had always been his penchant. TykIat had found a white robe which Staffa now wore. Against his sun-blackened skin, it made a most striking contrast. "What about the collar?" he demanded first thing.
"Tyklat was just here. The equipment is on the way." "How did you know to search for me on Etaria?" he asked, settling easily on the pillows across from the desk, the collar control clutched tightly.
Look at the exhaustion in his eyes! Time to get some of my own back. "In spite of what you might have thought, we take our Empire very seriously. Your Wing Commander informed us that you were going on vacation-incognito. It wouldn't do to have you get into… well, the sort of mess you did on one of our possessions. We had an alert out for any disturbance or unusual mention of your name. It came out on a routine cross-check of the court system."
He nodded slowly, feral eyes never leaving hers. Did he believe her? No, she could see his skepticism. Happily, she realized his exhaustion would work to her benefit. She could read him; his discipline was compromised.
The food arrived as Kaylla stepped out of the dressing room in a bronze formfitting shift that did wonders for her. She had combed her shoulder length hair and it set off her tan eyes and weathered complexion. Not a planet-stopping beauty, but this woman would dominate a room where others with more classic features would fade against her magnetism. Staffa's perceptions must have held true-even through the dirt and stink and bruises.
By caught herself staring at Kaylla. Yet another potential rival? Rotted Gods, how did the man draw such competent women when the female half of human space seemed filled with ignorant fawning titterers and empty-headed breeding stock?
By gestured to the low ebony-topped table and settled herself across from the heaping plates. As Staffa and Kaylla seated themselves on the large cushions, Ily said, "I would offer a toast, but I doubt anything I say would be appropriate. Therefore, please, let us eat."
Ily kept her face straight as Staffa and the woman demol-
ished a complete dinner in ravenous fashion. The after-dinner lethargy would lower Staffa's defenses even further.
"You mentioned business?" The Lord Commander leaned back, wolfish gaze on Ily.
Ily poured them both more wine, aware of how Kaylla missed nothing. Sharp, and she hadn't said a word since the rescue.
"Indeed. We would offer you and the Companions contract, Lord Commander. Currently, the Targan situation is deteriorating. The Rebels, it seems, are better armed and led than we had at first suspected." Long practice had given her the ability to project credible hesitation and dismay. "They have destroyed an entire assault division and threaten our very control of the planet. Tybalt the Imperial Seventh believes it would be cheaper to hire the Lord Commander than to suffer the inefficiency, cost, and loss of life, equipment, and property the present situation would indicate as necessary to subdue the planet."
Kaylla's attention turned to Staffa, mouth opening slightly in the first show of emotion Ily had seen her display. Staffa looked from one to the other, face as impassive as the damned desert.
"For the moment, Lord Minister, the Companions are not accepting any contract. If you will be so kind as to extend my best wishes to his Imperial Tybalt, I would-"
"I don't think you understand the gravity of this situation, Lord Commander." Ily remained firm but pleasant. "Consider the current balance of power between Sassa and ourselves. We would prefer not to tie up large portions of our forces at this time. In the event we were to suffer heavy casualties during the pacification of Targa, would that not.?"
invite Sassan aggression.
"No," Staffa told her easily. "Having just come from Myklene, I can tell you they are in no position to threaten you." He looked into the tan eyes of the slave woman and added, "It is none of my business, Minister, but may I suggest that you approach the Rebel parties and attempt to find a political solution to the problem which will not bleed you so badly." He wiped his black beard with a dampened napkin and met her level gaze. "I take it, however, that I am free to leave this planet and continue my travels unrestricted?"