"They're going to Purma," Radig Nardin said into her thoughts. Startled, she looked at him, to find him gazing hard at her.
"I see, Master Nardin," she said, remembering to show proper respect. "May I ask who they are?"
His forehead creased a fraction more. "Last week's workers. On their way home."
Jin hesitated. Another question might be out of Qasaman character... but, then, she'd already established herself as an anomaly, anyway. "Do you hire from Purma often?"
"Every other week or so," he said. "It alternates with the hiring from Azras."
"I see." Carefully, Jin settled back into her seat, returning her eyes to the wall and dome ahead. So Mangus did have enough work to keep what amounted to a full-time force busy. So why didn't they simply go ahead and hire permanent workers, instead of going through all this trouble every week?
They had passed the line of pylons now, and as they neared the end of the road a gateway swung open up in the wall ahead. The only gateway on this side of the compound, she noticed, and built furthermore along the lines of a minor bank vault. Bololin-proof, for certain.
There were half a dozen buildings visible as the car drove through the gateway and into Mangus proper: an office-looking one directly ahead, a residence-type building beyond it, a guard station and garage flanking the road to right and left. But Jin saw them only peripherally. Her full attention was grabbed by the totally unexpected black wall rising off to her right.
It ran, as near as she could tell, between two of the diamond-shape's corners, cutting Mangus into two roughly equilateral triangles. A single gate was set into it at its center, a gate that looked to be just as strong as the one they'd just passed through. The only way into that section? she wondered, remembering that there'd been just one gateway into Mangus on the western part of the outer wall.
If so, that implied that Mangus's dark secrets came in two distinct shades. Now if only Radig's father Obolo Nardin kept his office beyond that internal wall...
But it wasn't going to be quite that easy. "The administrative center, Master
Nardin?" the driver called over his shoulder.
"Yes," Radig said, looking at Jin. "You'll be given-" his eyes flicked down
"-more suitable clothing before being brought before my father."
"Thank you, Master Nardin," Jin nodded gravely. Leaning slightly toward the window, she saw that another of the black pylons rose from the top of the interior wall, reaching upward to the center of the overhead canopy. The shield's primary support, clearly, with perhaps medium-strength ribs extending from it to the outside pylons to maintain the dome shape. Simple but effective.
"I trust you'll provide me with transportation back to Azras once I've delivered my message," she added to Nardin.
He cocked an eyebrow. "That may depend," he said coolly, "on just what the message is."
They kept her waiting a long time, far longer than it took her to change into the clothes they'd given her. Long enough, in fact, that she was beginning to wonder if they were secretly monitoring her; and if so, when she as a supposedly busy professional ought to start looking annoyed at having her time wasted. But eventually someone came, and she was taken down a series of corridors to Obolo
Nardin's throne room.
There was no other way to think of the place. Larger and far more elaborate than
Kruin Sammon's study-larger even than the big-city mayor's office she'd seen tapes of-it was clearly designed to intimidate all who came in. A light breeze continually played across her face as she was led through and around the maze of hanging curtains to the center. A quick mental picture flashed across her mind, a picture of a spider waiting in the center of his web...
"What is your name?" the man on the cushion throne growled at her.
With an effort, Jin forced the spider image from her mind. I'm a Cobra, she reminded herself. Spiders aren't supposed to scare me. "I am Asya Elghani,
Master," she said, making the sign of respect and studying his unnaturally bright eyes. Excessive use of Qasama's mind drugs? "Are you Obolo Nardin?"
The man's face didn't change... but an abrupt shiver ran up her back. "I am," he said. "What have you to say to me?"
Jin took a deep breath. This was it. Now if only he bought her performance....
Letting her face go slightly slack as if entering a hypnotic state, she dropped her voice an octave. "This is Kruin Sammon," she intoned. "I know what you are doing here in Mangus, Obolo Nardin, and I know what you are risking. With that knowledge I can destroy you... but I can also aid you. You need the resources I possess, as well as the strength of the western villages whose loyalty I command. I propose therefore an alliance between us, with the rewards shared equally. I await your reply."
Carefully, Jin brought her eyes back into focus. "Did you receive the entire message, Master Nardin?" she asked in a normal voice again.
Obolo Nardin's eyes were steady on her face. "Indeed I did," he grunted.
"I've already been paid to bring Kruin Sammon a reply, should you wish to send one," she continued, struggling to keep her face and voice impassive. Deep in the back of her mind, alarm bells were beginning to go off. Something here wasn't quite right... "However, in that event, I would need time to prepare myself-"
And without warning the scene ahead of her was abruptly rimmed by red.
A jolt of adrenaline surged through her as, reflexively, she held her breath.
Suddenly it all clicked: the long delay back at the changing room, the careful scrutiny Obolo Nardin was giving her, the breeze blowing in her face... a breeze undoubtedly laden with sleeping drug. They'd considered what to do with her, decided that the message cover was nonsense, and were taking the appropriate action.
At her sides, Jin's hands curled into fists, nails digging into the skin of her palms to ward off the drug's effect. She might be able to stun Obolo with her sonic and get out of here... but the hanging curtains could hide a hundred other men, and even now she couldn't afford to give herself away. On the other hand, she couldn't hold her breath forever, either, and she'd probably already inhaled enough of the stuff to put her under before she got too far, anyway. And Obolo was still staring at her. Still waiting...
Waiting for her to collapse? All right, she decided suddenly. "I-Master Nardin-" she began drunkenly, using the last of her reserve of air; and rolling her eyes up, she collapsed to the floor.
She'd made sure to let her head roll so as to face away from the direction of the sleep breeze, but the stars of her impact had barely cleared away before the air now playing at the back of her head was shut off anyway. Footsteps came slowly around one of the curtains... stopped at her side... "That was quick,"
Radig Nardin's voice said. "Even for a woman."
"She's a soft offworlder," Obolo replied contemptuously. "If this is the best our enemies can do, we have little to fear from them."
An iron spike seemed to drive itself up through Jin's stomach. God above-they know who I am! But how-?
"Perhaps." A hand pulled at Jin's shoulder, rolling her over on her back.
Keeping her eyes closed, she activated her optical enhancers, keying for zero magnification and the lowest light-amp setting. Radig peered at her face a moment, then straightened up again to face his father. "I'll have her body searched for tiny instruments before we confine her."
"As you choose, my son, but I doubt there's any need."
"Her clothing yielded nothing-"
"You're forgetting the crash of her spacecraft," the elder Nardin cut his son off. "She carries no devices because none survived with her."
"Perhaps. Have you decided yet what to do about Daulo Sammon?"