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Updated: June 4, 2025
"We don't have a really bad case here, now. A few of these people were lash-burned horribly, though." Vall was looking at the other sketches. One was a musket, with a wide butt and a band-fastened stock; the lock-mechanism, vaguely flintlock, had been dotted in tentatively.
We take an autohypno and recover memories brought back from the future moment and buried in the subconscious mind." "That's right," Verkan Vall told him.
Vall wasn't listening to him. He frowned in puzzlement. "That's not a Fifth Level designation," he said. "That's First Level!" "That's correct. First Level Abzar Sector." "Now why in blazes didn't anybody think of that before?" he marveled, and as he did, he knew the answer. Nobody ever thought of the Abzar sector.
Then Sarnax hooked fingers and clapped shoulders with his companions. "See you in the next reincarnation, brothers," he told them, walking toward the gun-room door, where Verkan Vall, Dalla and Dirzed stood. "I'm joining you people. You had two Assassins when the parley began, you'll have two when the shooting starts." Verkan Vall looked at Dirzed in some surprise. Hadron Dalla's Assassin nodded.
He wiped the screen and then began punching combinations. "The standard smother-out technique," Verkan Vall grinned. "I only heard a little talk about the 'Flying Saucers', and all of that was in joke.
"Hello, Vall. Glad I was able to locate you. When are you and Dalla leaving?" "As soon as we can get away from this luncheon, here. Oh, say an hour. We're taking a rocket to Zarabar, and transposing from there to Passenger Terminal Sixteen, and from there to the Dwarma Sector."
Isn't that worth the temporary discarnation of a lot of ward-heelers and plug-uglies, or even a few decent types like Dirzed and Olirzon? If it isn't, I don't know what scales of values you're using." "Vall!" Dalla's eyes glowed with enthusiasm. "I never thought of that! And you said, 'temporary discarnation. That's just what it is.
Verkan Vall, unable to see what was going on inside the room, kept his eyes and his gun muzzle on the barricade across the openings to the lifter tubes, the erection of which he was now regretting as a major tactical error. Inside the gun room, there was a sudden crash, as the circle of thermite burned through and a section of ceiling dropped out and hit the floor.
"And what will he look for?" "Croutha with guns." Tortha Karf told him, then turned to Vall. "Can't he narrow it more than that? What have his experts been getting out of those slaves?" "That I don't know, to date." Vall looked at the clock. "I'll find out, though; I'll transpose to Police Terminal and call him up. And Skordran Kirv. No.
Nentrov suggested each of the intervals between the designations is a very minute but very exact fraction of the difference between lesser designation and the base-line designation." "You have the base-line designation?" Vall demanded. "Oh, yes. That's what I was telling you. We worked that out from the designations you gave me." He recited it. "All the designations you gave me are "
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