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like a dead man, and before he could stop me I went through his pockets.”
    She reached into a pouch in her dress and came out with a bundle of soggy notes. She passed them to Harper, and he took them with a smile. “I applaud your resourcefulness, Zeela. I don’t know what to say.”
    “They’re a little wet, but I thought they’d dry out. Oh, and this...” she went on, withdrawing his data-pin and passing it to him. “Not that it will be of any use, now.”
    He held the pin up before his eyes, then smiled at the girl. “You are,” he said, “a marvel.”
    She blinked. “I am?”
    “Look at it,” he said. “An effective weapon, no? A sharp needle as long as my hand... I’m sure I could surprise an Ajantan or two when they show themselves.”
    She smiled, and he thought her expression was almost one of pity.
    He looked up as something moved at the far end of the chamber. Three bobbing Ajantans entered and crossed to the closest comatose human. Two of the creatures stooped and gripped an old man’s arms and legs while the third, weapon poised, passed a gaze around the cavern.
    If I acted now , Harper thought... But the trio was too far away. The armed guard would fire long before Harper closed the distance. But perhaps if he positioned himself closer to the exit, beside the humans, and played dead until the aliens returned for their next victim...
    “They’re taking them to what they call their pleasure chamber,” Zeela whispered, “a vast cavern many times the size of this one, further underground. Perhaps if we move to the back of the chamber...”
    “I was thinking the exact opposite,” he said, and explained his reasoning. “Stay here while I...”
    Her eyes flared with anger. “I will come with you!”
    He climbed unsteadily to his feet. He was aware of the beating of his heart as he crossed the chamber to where half a dozen men and women, in various stages of torpor, lay side by side.
    He positioned himself next to the opening and sat down against the rock, Zeela folding herself beside him.
    Minutes passed. Harper willed the green men to show themselves. He wanted to be active, anything but this passive dwelling on what might happen if his plan of action failed.
    “One thing...” Zeela said.
    “Yes?”
    She looked at him. “In The Rat and Corpse, you knew my name. But I had not told you it.”
    He considered lying to her, saying that he’d overheard a member of the audience mention her name in appreciation. Instead he said, “It’s a long story, Zeela, but I am telepathic. Don’t worry,” he said quickly, “I can’t read you now. My ability needs to be...” Instinctively he reached into his pocket, and smiled as his hand encountered the cold metal band of his ferronnière. He explained about the amplification device.
    Her eyes were wide. “And you read my mind?”
    “Only briefly. I suspected you – I’m sorry to say – of being in league with Rasnic. I would never normally have invaded your mental privacy.”
    “I’m very glad to hear that.” She cocked her head and said, “And you can’t read me now, not a thing?”
    He smiled. “Not a thing.”
    “It must be strange,” she mused, “to be able to read the thoughts of your fellow man.”
    “It’s a terrible thing, Zeela. A torture. You cannot begin to imagine... One day, perhaps, I’ll tell you all about it.”
    She smiled. “That would be nice.” She paused, then said, “And your name?”
    He laughed as he realised that introductions, in all the excitement, had been overlooked. “Harper, Den Harper.”
    She reached out a solemn hand and shook his. “It’s good to meet you Harper Den Harper.”
    He was about to correct her, before realising from her cockeyed smile that the mistake had been intentional.
    “If you don’t mind me asking, Den, what is a telepath doing in Satan’s Reach, working as a star trader? Shouldn’t you be catching villains for the Expansion?”
    He nodded. “That’s right. I should.