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Updated: September 14, 2025
Verkan Vall found Sirzob's head in his sights and squeezed; the pistol kicked back in his hand, and he saw a lance of blue flame jump from the muzzle of Sirzob's. Both weapons barked together, and with the double report came the whip-cracking sound of Sirzob's bullet passing Verkan Vall's head. Then Sirzob's face altered its appearance unpleasantly, and he pitched forward.
Dirzed, you have a great responsibility in guarding the Lady Dallona; some extraordinary security precautions will be needed." In his office, in the First Level city of Dhergabar, Tortha Karf, Chief of Paratime Police, leaned forward in his chair to hold his lighter for his special assistant, Verkan Vall, then lit his own cigarette.
There seems to be a break in the number sequence in here; that would be the time line Skordran Kirv found those slaves on." He reached for the pipe he had left on the desk when he had gone to Police Terminal and began filling it. A little later, a buzzer sounded and a light came on on one of the communication boxes. He flipped the switch and said, "Verkan Vall here."
The grass was wet as Verkan Vall who reminded himself that here he was called Richard Lee crossed the yard from the farmhouse to the ramshackle barn, in the early autumn darkness.
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.
Unlike Verkan Vall and Zortan Brend, who wore shoulder holsters under their short tunics, the Assassins openly displayed pistols and knives on their belts. "We heard that you were coming two days ago, Lord Virzal," Zortan Brend said. "We delayed the take-off of this ship, so that you could travel to Darsh as inconspicuously as possible. I also booked a suite for you at the Solar Hotel, at Darsh.
"Balls ready to go," a voice called, and then repeated a string of time-line designations. "Estimated return, 1820, give or take four minutes." "Varth," Ranthar Jard said, evidently out of the boat's radio. "Your telecast is being beamed on Dhergabar Equivalent; Chief's Assistant Verkan is watching. When do you estimate your next return?"
You must do your best, Lord Virzal; you don't want your supporters to lose money." He said it quite seriously, as though the outcome were otherwise a matter of indifference to Verkan Vall.
Verkan Vall gestured toward the communicator on the desk. "May I?" he asked. "Certainly." Tortha Karf slid the instrument across the desk. "Anything you want." "Thank you, sir." Verkan Vall snapped on the code-index, found the symbol he wanted, and then punched it on the keyboard. "Special Chief's Assistant Verkan Vall," he identified himself.
You can trust him implicitly; he's about the only person in Darsh you can trust. He'll bring you to where I am. Dalla P.S. I hope you're not still angry about that musician. I told you, at the time, that he was just helping me with an experiment in telepathy. Verkan Vall grinned at the postscript. That had been twenty years ago, when he'd been eighty and she'd been seventy.
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