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"I'll have my butler check on that, right away," Nirzav said. His eyes were wide with amazement, and he had begun to sweat; a man does not casually watch the beliefs of a lifetime invalidated in a few moments. To Dirzed the Assassin: the machine continued. You have served me faithfully, in the last ten years, never more so than with the last shot you fired in my service.
Verkan Vall took the wafer and pared off three of the four edges, which showed black where they had been fused. Unfolding it, he found, as he had expected, that the pyrographed message within was in the alphabet and language of the First Paratime Level: Vall, darling: Am I glad you got here; this time I really am in the middle, but good! The Assassin, Dirzed, who brings this, is in my service.
The Constabulary blame the Statistos for the package-bomb: they're interested in that because of the discarnation of the three servants by an illegal weapon of indiscriminate effect. They claim that the disappearance of Dirzed and the Lady Dallona was a publicity hoax. The Volitionalists are preparing a line of publicity to deny this." Verkan Vall nodded.
The storerooms, kitchens and servants' quarters were at the top, the living quarters at the bottom, in segments of a wide circle around the well, back of balconies. "Tarnod, the gamekeeper," Dirzed performed the introductions. "And Erarno and Kirzol, Assassins." Verkan Vall hooked fingers and clapped shoulders with them.
Olirzon, who had been looking up the well, suddenly sprang at Dalla, knocking her flat, and at the same time jerking out his pistol. Before he could raise it, a shot banged from above and he fell on his face. Dirzed, Verkan Vall, and Sarnax, all drew their pistols, but whoever had fired the shot had vanished. There was an outburst of shouting above. "Get to cover," Sarnax told the others.
As the airboat came in, a couple of men in Assassins' garb emerged from the pavilion to meet them. "Marnik, stay at the controls," Verkan Vall directed. "I'll send Olirzon up for you if I want you. If there's any trouble, take off for Assassins' Hall and give the code word, then come back with twice as many men as you think you'll need." Dirzed raised his eyebrows over this.
"Any more of these people who violate the decencies will be treated similarly," he promised. "Thank you, Sarnax," Dirzed spoke up. "But we lost an Assassin: discarnating this lackey won't equalize that. We think you should retire one of your number." "That at least, Dirzed; wait a moment." The three Assassins conferred at some length.
In that case, the name's in red light until he's been properly avenged, or, as we say, till his blood's been mopped up. Well, the name of Dirzed is up in blue light, with the name of Dallona of Hadron under it. I found out that the light had been amber for two days after the disappearance, and then had been changed back to blue. Get it, Lord Virzal?" Verkan Vall nodded. "I think so.
Of course, you're Venus-born, and customs there may be different, but with your scientific knowledge " "That may be the trouble, Dirzed," Dallona told him. "A scientist gets in the way of doubting, and one doubts one's own theories most of all." "That's the scientific attitude, I'm told," Dirzed replied, smiling. "But somehow, I cannot think of you as a scientist."
Dirzed drew it and checked a man of his craft took no statement about weapons without verification then slipped it back into the holster. "Shall I use it?" he asked. "By all means; I'd had that in mind when I selected it for you." Another man, to the left of Girzon, received a cigarette case and lighter. He and Garnon hooked fingers and clapped shoulders.
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