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tricks on her eyes. Vischilglin waved a hand across a black panel and it slid silently open, revealing an elevator cab.
    Roche hesitated outside. “Where are you taking us?”
    “For debriefing,” said Vischilglin. “Don’t worry; you won’t come to any harm.”
    “Sentiments I have had expressed to me in the past,” said Roche cynically, then added: “No offense.”
    “None taken, I assure you,” said Vischilglin.
    “I just want my crew to know, that’s all.”
    Vischilglin nodded. “We’re aware that you’re in contact with them; we wouldn’t have it any other way.” Vischilglin stood on the threshold. “Is there anything we can do to put your mind at ease?’
    Roche shook her head slowly. “I’m just habitually nervous these days, that’s all.”
    “As you should be. I’m taking you to the secure areas on level 391. Your reave would have noted them already, I’m sure. We keep them shielded as best we can to keep word getting out. Maybe it’s effective; maybe it’s not. Either way, we have to try. But we’re not keeping secrets from our allies. That would be counterproductive. We’re just trying to maintain security against our common foe.”
    “And do you know who they are?”
    Vischilglin grimaced. “If you mean do we know their origins or the identities of the individuals, then no, I’m afraid not. But we are hoping you might be able to help us.” She indicated the interior of the elevator. “Won’t you?” she said. “They’re waiting.”
    Roche forced herself to ignore the nagging uncertainty and stepped into the cab. Besides, what choice did she really have? If they wanted to spring a trap, then her position was already so compromised that she wouldn’t be able to do anything about it, anyway.
    Maii followed her in. As the doors closed, Vischilglin turned to the girl with an amused expression.
    “You know, you’re free to remove that suit any time you like,” she said. When Maii didn’t respond she added: “I hate those things. Too confining, constricting—and they chafe. We have more suitable clothing if you’re uncomfortable.”
     Maii asked. Vischilglin looked uneasy for a moment, and Roche suspected the girl had known the answer before she’d asked. “There is one, yes,” Vischilglin replied. Roche felt the slight tickle in her mind that meant the Box wanted to talk to her.
    <1 thought you might like to know that the Rond-Spellor Outlook has been in a state of civil war for some weeks, now.>
    
    
    
    <1 have no reason to believe so. Neither her name nor her appearance match any in my database, and one must assume that any organization devoted to the investigation of the clone warriors would take precautions against such an infiltration. Nevertheless...>
    The Box left the sentence unfinished, but the sentiment was clear.
     she said.
    
     she said.
    The elevator didn’t seem to have moved, but when the doors opened a second or two later, an entirely different vista was spread out before them. Water from gentle waterfalls washed down numerous curved walls into undulating ground between them, collecting in valley floors to form small, slow-moving streams which curled and divided in unpredictable directions, some emptying into numerous ponds scattered about the area. The air was moist and sweet—scented, Roche suspected, by the various plants growing in the waters.
    The banks of the waterways, however, were gray and sterile—a striking contrast to the exotic flowers and reeds. And high above it all hung featureless white clouds. The vista gave Roche the impression of an attempt at