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Her ruse could not be sustained long, but that hardly mattered, because she had to help her galaxy quickly or it would be too late anyway. So now she had a program of sorts: first, get the hostage secret; then get the information to an entity in authority in Segment Etamin. Then what happened to her didn’t matter. Like Flint of Outworld, she could give her life for her galaxy.

She knew the odds were still against her, but they were better odds than before. Her capture by Hammer of Quadpoint had turned out to be a break for her, because she was now much closer to the secret that controlled two galaxies.

She emerged into atmosphere. No mounted Dash challenged her this time; evidently that particular search had been called off. Perhaps they had spotted her aura in that prior check, but had chosen to deal with her indirectly. But why?

The question brought the answer: because of the covenant between the species of Dash and £. The one could not deliberately harm the other.

She proceeded to the mill, and the Dash in charge there marked off the load, glancing incuriously at the hole in the wood where the lancer had spiked it. Fortunately he did not try to converse with the mahout, who merely sat on her back. Let the loafer snooze!

Melody started dutifully back toward the bog. But when she was out of sight of the mill, she turned off at right angles and cut through the feather trees toward the path Cnom’s information said led to the Dash city. It was no coincidence that the capital was so close, since that was where her intended host was. She had missed her transfer recipient by only a few miles; pinpoint accuracy, considering that it had been an intergalactic effort. But this partial freedom could not last long. No doubt the Dash were even now zeroing in on her again, setting up a way to nab her without hurting her £ host. She had to act first.

She found a new channel and stepped down into it gratefully. The paws of the £ were not hoofs; they were adapted to maintaining lodging on the curved lattice of the bog rather than for tramping down the hard rocks of the dry land. The channels, though concavely curved, were smooth, and the dirt in them was no harder than wood. In addition, their narrow width and curving routes were familiar.

This was a toward-city channel, fortunately. All channels, like all lattice paths, had to be one-way, as there was no room for £ to pass one another. The channels could have been made wider, but that would have destroyed their compatible contours and decreased their similarity to the bog-lattice. This way, their natural contours led them through the refraction feathers with minimum disruption.

She emerged into a clearing. Ahead was the city; a towering mass of wooden spires, quite pretty in its fashion. Melody was reminded of the houses of cards Solarians built. She had entertained herself with some of these during waits aboard the Ace of Swords. Each individual card was flimsy, but the buttressed structure assumed a remarkable stability.

She spun closer, concerned lest she be challenged. But though she passed many mounted mahouts as the channels converged, none bothered her. Obviously it was assumed that her own mount was taking her somewhere on private business.

The splendor of the city did not diminish as she approached it. Trust a bird-species to have uplifting taste in architecture! The wood had been shaped into elegant configurations, with many small passages for Dash to haul themselves through. Though they could no longer actually fly, it was evident that given the proper footing they could propel themselves through the vertical lattice of the buildings with flight-like facility.

Now there was a problem. Obviously the most secret offices of the Dash transfer command would be high up, and it was manifestly impossible for a £ to go there. The merest brush of Cnom’s huge body against a lower structure would collapse a section of the city; ascending a tower was out of the question.

Could she locate the spot, then attack the base of the building and bring it down to her level? No, that would destroy her own pretense of anonymity and be pointless. She had to observe, not strike. It was knowledge she required, not physical victory. For now.

First she had to locate the Kirlian section of town. Her aura and her training had made her super-sensitive to Kirlian emanations; if she got within a reasonable distance of a strong Kirlian source, she would know it. Maybe she would have a chance to transfer to a Dash host and continue her investigation.

Of course her own aura would betray her identity similarly—if the Dash were alert. They should be, since she had twice escaped their net. But perhaps the inherent foolishness of their bureaucracy would help her again. The last thing they should anticipate would be her strike into the heart of the city.

It was a major gamble—but she had to take it.

She moved into the city, which now resembled the land-forest, with buildings in lieu of trees. Even the refraction of light was similar, though here it was done by glass lenses instead of living feathers. This was, her £ memory told her, to prevent the shaded lower passages from becoming musty.

Stalls for £ opened off to the sides. Healthy £ preferred to sleep in the bog, but ill or injured ones came here. This also made it convenient for the mahouts, who could indulge themselves in the comfort of the upper regions while their steeds were out of service. No Dash would volunteer to remain in the bog longer than necessary especially not aboard a sick £. For one thing a hurt £ sought the deeps, an area that the Dash could not enter.

Suddenly she picked up the fringe of a strong aura, and moved toward it. High-Kirlian entities were in the vicinity!

She came into an inner chamber. In its center, protected by a sturdy wooden barricade, was a Transfer unit. It was not a type she was familiar with. Therefore it must be—

A drape lifted, revealing the snout of a projectile cannon. —Halt, mahout!— a Dash voice commanded.

A trap! She had half known it, but had taken the risk for the sake of her mission. They had dangled the bait of hostage Transfer before her and lured her in, just as they had done back at the Ace of Swords so successfully. Yet what else could she have done?

Perhaps she could bluff an ill-informed Dash…

She looked around as if confused, tilting her body to make her addled mahout seem to be directing her.

—Please do not endanger yourself— the Dash said, coming into sight on an upper ledge so that his three eyes focused down on her. —There is no confusion. We have analyzed your aura, and know you for Melody of Mintaka, Etamin, Milky Way.—

Then she knew she was lost.

21. Budding the Mintakan

*report: all fleets secure in milky way galaxy last resistance in segment etamin overcome ready to move on planets*

:: initiate motion ::

*there will be some delay, as this involves physical propulsion and the distances are*

:: do not seek to educate me in elementary physics, ast! what of the local matter? ::

*etamin kirlian agent has just been immobilized*

:: immobilized? kill her! ::

*sphere dash assures us that this is not feasible negotiation is necessary*

:: dash shall shortly be charged with treason! if they do not neutralize her quickly I shall ::

*POWER*

:: just get the job done! ::

—You have been evasive, alien!— the Dash said, his wings whirring reprovingly. While he talked, a line dropped from a crane to remove the defunct mahout from her back. —All we want is the best for you, now that your galaxy is fallen. It would be a shame to sacrifice an aura like yours. Will you not now be realistic and join us?—