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As they watched, his hands went out to the keyboard in front of him and began to move over it, and as they did, letters appeared on the white screen on the left. Garnon of Roxor, discarnate, communicating, they read. The machine stopped for a moment, then began again. To Dallona of Hadron: The question you asked, after I discarnated, was: What was the last book I read, before the feast?
"Your former colleagues and fellow-party-members are regrettably given to the forcible discarnation of those who differ with them." "I've never employed personal Assassins before," Nirzav replied, "but I think you're right. As soon as I get home, I'll call Assassins' Hall and make the necessary arrangements." "Better do it now," Girzon of Roxor told him, lowering his voice.
Prince Jirzyn, and Lord Girzon, the new family-head of Roxor, decided that there would be trouble in the next few days, so they advised the Lady Dallona to come to this hunting lodge for safety. She and I came here in her airboat, directly from the feast. A good thing we did, too; if we'd gone to her apartment, we'd have walked in before that lethal gas had time to clear.
The old man at whose right she sat noticed, and reached out to lay his hand on hers. "My dear, you're worried," he said softly. "You, of all people, shouldn't be, you know." "The theory isn't complete," she replied. "And I could wish for more positive verification. I'd hate to think I'd got you into this " Garnon of Roxor laughed. "No, no!" he assured her.
Normally, he's a low-grade imbecile, but in trance-state he's wonderful. And there can be no argument that the communications he produces originates in his own mind; he doesn't have mind enough, of his own, to operate that machine." Garnon of Roxor rose to his feet, the others rising with him. He unfastened a jewel from the front of his tunic and handed it to Dallona.
"Well, it's a dome house belonging to the family of Starpha; they own a five-mile radius around it, oak and beech forest and underbrush, stocked with deer and boar. A hunting lodge. Prince Jirzyn of Starpha, Lord Girzon of Roxor, and a few other top-level Volitionalists, know that the Lady Dallona's hiding there. They're keeping her out of sight till after the election, for propaganda purposes.
Her alleged Venusian origin was probably accepted as the explanation of that, as of so many other things. As she was about to reply, a man in dark gray, one of the upper-servants who were accepted as social equals by the Akor-Neb nobles, approached the table. He nodded respectfully to Garnon of Roxor. "I hate to seem to hurry things, sir, but the boy's ready.
The gray-clad upper-servant, and two or three ladies, and a nobleman with a small chin-beard, and several others, joined them; of those who had sat close to Garnon, only the man in the black tunic with the scarlet badge hung back. He stood still, by the break in the table, watching Garnon of Roxor walk away from him.
Harnosh's arm for guidance, concentrating her mind upon a single question. The others went on as though Garnon of Roxor were still walking among them. "Look!" Harnosh of Hosh cried, pointing to the image in the visiplate ahead. "He's under control!" They all stopped short, and Dirzed, holstering his pistol, hurried forward to join them.
Few individuals of the class from whence he began this ascent possess so much persistence or determination. Then, of course, there was the case of Lord Garnon of Roxor." He went on to describe the last experiment in which Hadron Dalla had participated. "Well, that all sounds pretty conclusive," Verkan Vall commented.
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