"Where is Aila Woudiver?" asked Deine Zarre in his most gentle voice.

The servant became haughty. "He is importantly busy. He has great dealings. He cannot be disturbed."

Seizing the servant by the scruff of the neck Reith half raised him off the ground, dislodging the turban. The servant keened in pain and wounded dignity.

"What are you doing? Take your hands away or I will summon my master!"

"Precisely what we want you to do," said Reith.

The servant stood back, rubbing his neck and glaring at Reith. "Leave the house at once!"

"Take us to Woudiver, if you want to avoid trouble!"

The servant began to whine. "I may not do so. He'll have me whipped!"

"Look yonder in the courtyard," said Deine Zarre. "You'll see Artilo's dead body. Do you wish to join him?"

The servant began to shake and fell on his knees. Reith hoisted him erect.

"Quick now! To Woudiver!"

"You must tell him I was forced, on threat of my life!" cried the servant with chattering teeth. "Then you must swear-"

The portiere at the far end of the room parted. The great face of Aila Woudiver peered through. "What is this disturbance?"

Reith pushed the servant away. "Your man refused to summon you."

Woudiver examined him with the cleverest and most suspicious gaze imaginable.

"For good reason, I am occupied with important affairs."

"None so important as mine," said Reith.

"A moment," said Woudiver. He turned, spoke a word or two to his visitors, swaggered back into the scarlet and yellow salon. "You have the money?"

"Yes, of course. Would I be here otherwise?"

For another long moment Woudiver surveyed Reith. "Where is the money?"

"In a safe place."

Woudiver chewed at his pendulous lower lip. "Do not use that tone with me. To be candid, I suspect you of contriving an infamy, that which today allowed the escape of numerous criminals from the Glass Box."

Reith chuckled. "Tell me, if you please, how I could be two places at once?"

"If you were in a single place, that is enough to damn you. A man corresponding to your description lowered himself to the field only an hour before the event.

He would not have done so had he not been sure of escape. It is noteworthy that the renegade Dirdirman seemed to be among those missing."

Deine Zarre spoke: "The battarache came from your store; you will be held responsible if I should utter a word."

Woudiver seemed to notice Deine Zarre for the first time. In simulated surprise he spoke. "What do you do here, old man? Better be off about your business."

"I came to kill you," said Deine Zarre. "Reith asked that I wait."

"Come along, Woudiver," said Reith. "The game is over." He displayed his weapon.

"Quickly, or I'll burn some of your hide."

Woudiver looked from one to the other without apparent concern. "Do the mice bare their teeth?"

Reith, from long experience, knew enough to expect wrangling, obstinacy, and generally perverse behavior. In a resigned voice he said, "Come along, Woudiver."

Woudiver smiled. "Two ridiculous little sub-men." He raised his voice a trifle.

"Artilo!"

"Artilo is dead," said Deine Zarre. He looked right and left in something like puzzlement. Woudiver watched him blandly. "You seek something?"

Deine Zarre, ignoring Woudiver, muttered to Reith, "He is too easy, even for Woudiver. Take care."

Reith said in a sharp voice, "On the count of five, I'll burn you."

"First, a question," said Woudiver. "Where do we go?"

Reith ignored him. "One ... two..."

Woudiver sighed hugely. "You fail to amuse me."

"... three..."

"Somehow I must protect myself ..."

"... four ..."

"... so much is clear." Woudiver backed against the wall. The velvet canopy instantly slumped on Reith and Deine Zarre.

Reith fired the gun but the folds struck down his arm, and the ray scarred only the black and white tiles of the floor.

Woudiver's chuckle sounded muffled but rich and unctuous. The floor vibrated to his ominous tread. A vast weight suffocated Reith; Woudiver had flung himself down upon his body. Reith lay halfdazed. Woudiver's voice sounded close. "So the jackanapes thought to trouble Aila Woudiver? See how he is now!" The weight lifted. "And Deine Zarre, who courteously refrained from assassination. Well then, farewell, Deine Zarre. I am more decisive."

A sound, a sad sodden gurgle and then a scraping of fingernails upon the tiles.

"Adam Reith," said the voice. "You are a peculiar mad case. I am interested in your intentions. Drop the gun, put your arms to the front and do not move. Do you feel the weight on your neck? That is my foot. Quick then, arms forward, and no sudden motions. Hisziu, make ready."

The folds were pulled back, away from Reith's extended arms. Nimble dark fingers bound his wrists with silk ribbon.

The velvet was further drawn back. Reith, still somewhat dazed, looked up at the spraddle-legged bulk. Hisziu the servant skipped back and forth, around and under, like a puppy.

Woudiver hoisted Reith erect. "Walk, if you will." He sent Reith stumbling with a shove.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

IN A DARK room, against a metal rack, stood Reith. His outstretched arms were taped to a transverse bar; his ankles were likewise secured. No light entered the room save the glimmer of a few stars through a narrow window. Hisziu the servant crouched four feet in front of him, with a light whip of braided silk, little more than a length of supple cord attached to a short handle. He seemed able to see in the dark and amused himself by snapping the tip of the whip, at unpredictable intervals, upon Reith's wrists, knees and chin. He spoke only once. "Your two friends have been taken. They are no better than you: worse, indeed. Woudiver works with them."

Reith stood limp, his thoughts sluggish and dismal. Disaster was complete; he was conscious of nothing else. The malicious little snaps of Hisziu's whip barely brushed the edge of his awareness. His existence was coming to an end, to be no more remarked than the fall of a raindrop into one of Tschai's sullen oceans. Somewhere out of sight the blue moon rose, casting a sheen across the sky. The slow waxing and equally slow waning of moonlight told the passing of the night.

Hisziu fell into a drowse and snored softly. Reith was indifferent. He raised his head, looked out of the window. The shimmer of moonlight was gone; a muddy color towards the east signaled the coming of Carina 4269. Hisziu awoke with a start, and flicked the whip petulantly at Reith's cheeks, raising instant bloodblisters. He left the chamber and a moment later returned with a mug of hot tea, which he sipped by the window. Reith croaked: "I'll pay you ten thousand sequins to cut me loose."

Hisziu paid him no heed.

Reith said, "And another ten thousand if you help me free my friends."

The servant sipped the tea as if Reith had never spoken.

The sky glowed dark gold; Carina 4269 had appeared. Steps sounded; Woudiver's bulk filled the doorway. A moment he stood quietly, assessing the situation, then, seizing the whip, he gestured Hisziu from the room.

Woudiver seemed exalted, as if drugged or drunk. He slapped the whip against his thigh. "I can't find the money, Adam Reith. Where is it?"

Reith attempted to speak in a casual voice. "What are your plans?"

Woudiver raised his hairless eyebrows. "I have no plans. Events proceed; I exist as well as I may."

"Why do you keep me tied here?"

Aila Woudiver slapped the whip against his leg. "I have naturally notified my kinsmen of your apprehension."

"The Dirdir?"