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Tolonen knelt over the dead thing, then drew his knife and cut the silks open, revealing its torso. This one was a young woman of seventeen, the daughter of a leading businessman from the Brache settlement. He was waiting inside the Forbidden City, unaware that his daughter had been murdered months ago and replaced by this thing. Tolonen shuddered, trying not to let his emotions cloud his thinking. This was a bad day. A very bad day. But it could have been far worse.

He hesitated, then cut into one of the breasts. Blood welled and ran down the smooth flank of the thing. Tolonen steeled himself and cut again, pulling the flesh apart to reveal the hard, protective case beneath. Yes, it was like the other ones. They all had this protective casing over their essential organs and beneath the facial flesh. As if whoever had made them had designed them to withstand heavy fire: to last long enough to do maximum damage.

"Listen, Vittorio. I want you to get files on all the Mars col-

onists we haven't checked yet and get an elite squad to pick them out before they get to the gates. I want one of them alive, understand?"

Alive. . . . His flesh crawled. Functional, I mean. These things were never alive. Not in any real way.

He got up, signaling to the technicians to take the thing away.

"And, Vittorio. Warn your men these things are dangerous. Perhaps the most dangerous thing they've ever had to face."

AS SOON AS he stepped out into the space between the Cities, Josef Krenek knew something was wrong. Guests were queuing to pass through what seemed like checkpoints. Checkpoints which shouldn't have been there. Beside him Henryk and Irina were unaware that anything was amiss. But then they wouldn't be: their programing was far simpler than his own.

He looked about him, trying to gauge the situation. Three-man elite squads were moving slowly down the lines of people, checking IDs. Farther off, above what seemed like some kind of rat run, they had set up guard towers.

They know we're here, he thought at once. Those gates are screens.

Casually he drew Henryk and Irina back, away from the queue, as if they had left something in the reception hall. Then, in an urgent whisper, he told them what he thought was happening.

"What shall we do?" Henryk's cold, clear eyes searched Josef's for an answer. "WeVe no instructions for this."

Josef answered him immediately. "I want you to go out there, Henryk. I want you to go up to one of those squads and ask them why you have to stand in line. I want you to find out what they're looking for. Okay?"

"What if they're looking for me? What if they try to arrest me?"

Josef smiled coldly. "Then you'll bring them over here."

He watched Henryk walk out and greet them and saw at once how the soldiers reacted. He heard their shouted questions, then saw Henryk turn and point back to where he stood beside Irina.

Ah, well, the part of him that was DeVore thought, it could have worked. Could have worked beautifully. Imagine it! The twelve of them climbing the marble steps, death at their fingertips, the Families falling like leaves before them!

He smiled and turned to Irina. "Do nothing until I say. I'm going to try to get through all of that." He indicated the rat run of screens and corridors and guard towers. "But not directly. With any luck they'll take me through. If not. . ."

Henryk came up and stood before them, one of the elite Security guards holding his arm loosely. Other squads were hurrying from elsewhere, heading toward them.

"What seems to be the problem, Captain?" Josef said, facing the officer calmly.

"For you, sir, nothing. But I'm afraid your brother and his wife must accompany me. I've orders to detain all Mars colonists."

Josef hid his surprise. Why not me? he wondered. Then he understood. They've seen the Mars connection. But I wasn't brought in that way. I was here already. The first to come. The linchpin of the scheme.

"Oh, dear," he said, looking at Henryk, concerned. "Still, I'm sure it's all a misunderstanding, eldest brother. We had best do as these men say, yes? Until we can sort things out."

The Captain shook his head. "I'm sorry, sir, but my orders are to take Mars colonists only."

"But surely, Captain"—for a moment he was Josef Krenek at his most unctuous; as if persuading a client to buy a new product range—"you must allow me to accompany my elder brother and his wife. There are laws about unjust detention and the right of representation. Or have they been repealed?"

The Captain hesitated, listening to orders in his head, then gave a curt nod. "I'm told you can come along, Shih Krenek. But please, don't interfere. This is an important matter. I'm certain we can settle it quite quickly."

Krenek smiled and followed them silently. Yes, I'm certain we can. But not here. Not yet.

THE GENERAL looked through the one-way glass at the men and women crowded into the small room.

"Well?" he asked. "Is that the last of the colonists?"

Nocenzi nodded. "Every last one. Sixty-two in all."

Tolonen stroked his chin thoughtfully, then turned and looked directly at his Major. "Can we set up a gate here? I want to trace any remaining copy-humans. But I don't want them terminated. Understand?"

Nocenzi nodded. "My .men are working on it already."

"Good." His first instinct had been to gas all the copies, but they needed one in functional order. To trace it back. To find out where these things came from and get to the men behind them.

"What percentage of the colonists have proved to be these things?"

Nocenzi looked to his lieutenant, who bowed and answered for him. "Nine from three hundred and eighteen. So just under three percent."

Tolonen looked back into the room. So if the percentage was constant that meant there was at least one, maybe two, of the things in there. But how did you tell? They were indistinguishable to the naked eye.

"At least they're not booby-trapped," Nocenzi said, coming closer and standing beside him at the glass. "Think of the damage they could have done if they had been. If I'd built them I'd have made them tamper proof. More than that, I'd have made them a bit less docile. Not one of them queried going into the secure rooms. It's as if they weren't programed for it. Yet they must have had pretty complex programing for them to keep up appearances, let alone come here. They must have had a plan of some kind."

Tblonen started, then turned to face his Major. "Of course! Why didn't I see it before?" He laughed shortly, then shivered. "Don't you see, Vittorio? Twelve of them. One of them the linchpin, the strategist, holding it all in his head, the others with the bare outlines of what they have to do, but no sense of the larger strategy."

Nocenzi understood at once. "An elite attack squad. Like our own Security squads. Functioning in the same way."

"Yes!" Tolonen said, elated. "That explains why they were so docile. They only needed a certain amount of programing. They were just following orders. But one of them—one of the 'people' in that room—is the linchpin. The strategist."

DeVore. It all led back to DeVore. His hand behind all of this. His thinking. His elite training.

"There'll be three of them, I warrant you. Two soldiers and a strategist. It's the last I want. The linchpin. The others will know nothing. But that one . . ."

But even as he said the words he saw it. Saw the two of them meet in the center of the room and touch and spark, blue veins of electric current forming in the air about them.

"Down!" he yelled, throwing himself to the floor as the room beyond the mirror filled with blinding light.

And then the ceiling fell on them.

KRENEK KNELT and bowed his head, his empty hands placed palm down on his thighs, fingers pointed inward, his whole stance mimicking the tens of thousands surrounding him. Then he straightened, studying the group of people gathered at the top of the steps directly in front of the Hall of Supreme Harmony. Fei Yen's father, Yin Tsu, and his family were to the left, Li Shai Tung and his to the right. Beneath them, on the steps themselves, the seven New Confucian officials bowed and chanted the ancient ceremonial words.