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that, Nils,” the voice cooed reassuringly. “You have a headache, don’t you?”
    He nodded ruefully. “Yeah, I sure the hell do.”
    “Then come over here and let me make you feel better.”
    With a smile he shucked off his black breechclout and let it fall to the floor. His servant, Sean, could see to it in the morning. For now he wanted the comfort of warm, soft heat, wet lips, and a loving touch.
    As he eased onto the bed, his chest seized again. A low cry of distress whistled from his throat.
    “Your chest hurts.”
    It wasn’t a question. He gasped for breath as he nodded.
    “I’ve enjoyed being your lover, Nils… but the time has come when I need a man who can attend to details properly. Olivia is a serious threat, protégé or not. If she derails this deal, we all can expect to have a lot to answer for both here and on Terra.” A warm hand glided up his back, pausing at the base of his skull.
    “Farewell, lover.”
    A sharp impact exploded between the top vertebra of his neck and the bottom of his skull. He had just enough time to register the sensation before his vision went white.
    What the hell ?
    As the incandescent detonation before his eyes faded to black, he heard his lover whisper, “I am sorry. Goodbye, Ambassador.”
    Then all pain, all feeling, all thought deserted him.
    Peace descended at last on a curtain of perfect night.
    * * *
    The assassin emerged from the trance state shaking and feeling as if a few meals too many had been missed. Maintaining a convincing illusion through the use of telepathy and utilizing a weapon when necessary with telekinesis was a thoroughly exhausting exercise, but it did demonstrate one’s control and mastery of the magickal arts.
    It was a pity that Trelawney had to die, and even more so that it had been impossible to commit the act in person. The lack of DNA or other physical evidence, however, made missing out on the small satisfaction of physically carrying out the execution a trade-off that was well worth the sacrifice.
    The assassin stretched, smiling despite the hunger pangs clawing at a desperately empty stomach. And so the dominos fall …

Chapter Four
     
    Merrick guided the hovercar down onto a small flat space between spires with a delicate touch. At the last moment, he pulled up slightly. The ’car touched down as light as puffblossom dust on the sandy surface.
    “Are we here?”
    He grinned. “We are.”
    Popping the center console again, he pulled out the bottle of wine and two goblets constructed of smoked extruded plas, as well as an antique corkscrew. The same wine was available for much fewer credits in a vacutop bottle, but Merrick respected tradition, even if the simple addition of an old-style cork jacked up the price of the wine by twenty credits. Besides, he didn’t mind spending the extra on Olivia.
    She clambered out of the cabin and landed on her feet in perfect silence. The only sounds were the whispering of the light breeze off the Boreal Ocean and the soft susurrus of the waves meeting the shore.
    Merrick studied her as she peered around, delighted at the isolated spot. Her enthusiasm was written in every angle of her body, and she threw her arms up in pure exultation. The long, lean lines of her form, typical of humans born and raised in lower-than-Terra gravity, painted an enticing picture, all deep, soft shadows and delicate, swooping curves.
    Astaroth burst over the top of the spire, its deep indigo light limning her body as if kissing her skin.
    His thirst for wine abruptly abated. He sought other, more nourishing fare.
    He opened his mouth to say as much, but Olivia wheeled and ran toward the isolated beach, apparently for the sheer pleasure of it. With a chuckle he hurried after her, lugging the wine and its various accoutrements as he went.
    She ducked behind a smaller tower of rock and disappeared, outpacing him neatly. He snickered at the childish game.
    “You want to play? I’m up for it,” he called.
    The only