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Updated: May 18, 2025
Again the screen boiled with colored turbulence; again dark and mighty forces stalked through the ship like demons in a sorcerer's tower. The screen turned featureless gray as the pickups stared blindly into some dimensionless noplace.
"They tell me slaves are never permitted to enter it. Maybe, but they have the place bugged to the ceiling all around." "Bugged? What with?" Shatrak asked, and Erskyll was wanting to know what he meant. No doubt he thought Ravney was talking about things crawling out of the woodwork. "Screen pickups, radio pickups, wired microphones; you name it and it's there.
A couple of Navy technicians were getting a snooper a thing shaped like a short-tailed tadpole, six feet long by three at the widest, fitted with visible-light and infra-red screen pickups and crammed with detection instruments ready to relieve the combat car over the village. The contact team crowded into the Number One landing craft, which had been fitted out as a temporary headquarters.
They were all crowded into one of the executive conference-rooms at the Proconsular Palace, the batteries of communication and recording equipment incongruously functional among the gold-encrusted luxury of the original Masterly furnishings. Shatrak swore. "Andrey, I thought your people had planted those pickups where they couldn't be found," he said to Commander Douvrin.
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