The two looked up, startled. I rounded a littered table, grabbed up a heavy soup ladle, and skulled the nearest cook just as he opened up to yell. The other one, a big fellow, went for a cleaver. I caught him in two jumps, laid him out cold beside his pal. I found an apron, ripped it up, and tied and gagged the two slaves, then hauled them into a storeroom. I came back into the kitchen. It was silent now. The room reeked of sour soup. A stack of unpleasantly familiar loaves stood by the oven. I gave them a kick that collapsed the pile as I passed to pick up a knife. I hacked tough slices from a cold haunch of Vallonian mutton, threw one to Itzenca across the table, and sat and gnawed the meat while I tried to think through my plans. * * * * * Owner Qohey was a big man to tackle but he was the one with the answers. If I could make my way to his apartment and if I wasn't stopped before I'd forced the truth out of him, then I might get to Foster and tell him that if he had the memory playback machine I had the memory, if it hadn't been filched from the bottom of a knapsack aboard a lifeboat parked at Okk-Hamiloth. Four 'if's' and a 'might'--but it was something to shoot at. My first move would be to locate Qohey's quarters, somewhere in the Palace, and get inside. My bodyguard's outfit was as good a disguise as any for the attempt. I finished off my share of the meat and got to my feet. I'd have to find a place to clean myself up, shave-- The rear door banged open and two bodyguards came through it, talking loudly, laughing. "Hey, cook! Set out meat and wine for--" The heavy in the lead stopped short, gaping at me. I gaped back. It was Torbu. "Drgon! How did you...." He trailed off. The other bodyguard came past him, looked me over. "You're no Brother of the Guard--" he started. I reached for the cleaver the kitchen-slave had left on the table, backed against a tall wall cupboard. The bodyguard unlimbered his club. "Hold it, Blon," said Torbu. "Drgon's okay." He looked at me. "I kind of figured you for done-for, Drgon. The boys worked you over pretty good." "Yeah," I returned, "and thanks for your help in stopping it. You claim to believe in the system around here. You think it's a great life, all fair play and no holds barred and plenty of goodies for the winner. I know, it was tough about Cagu, but that's life, isn't it? But what about the business I saw in the Audience Hall? You guys try not to think about that angle, is that it?" "It was the Owner's orders," said Blon. "What was I gonna do, tell him--?" "Never mind," I said. "I'll tell him myself. That's all I want: just a short interview with the Owner--minus the wire nets." "Wow ..." drawled Torbu; "yeah, that'd be a bout." He turned to Blon. "This guy's got a punch, Blon. He don't look so hot but he could swap buffets with the Fire Drgon he's named after. If he's that good with a long blade--"