There was a guard posted before the tent which doubled as press and communications center, and the private quarters of David Moroka. The figure that approached timidly was garbed in the traditional clothing of the young women of the Tégéhé Mellet tribe of the Tuareg and bore an _imzad_ in her left hand, while her right held a corner of her gandoura over her face. The guard, of the Kel Rela tribe, eyed the one-stringed violin with its string of hair and sounding box made of half a gourd covered with a thin membrane of skin, and grinned. A Tuareg maid was accustomed to sing and to make the high whining tones of desert music on the _imzad_ before submitting to her lover's embrace. _Wallahi!_ but these women of the Tégéhé Mellet were shameless. "Where do you go?" he said gruffly. "El Hassan's vizier has ordered that he is occupied and none should approach." "He awaits me," she wavered. There was _kohl_ about her eyes, and indigo at the corners of her mouth. "We met at the _tendi_ last night and he bid me come to his tent. It is for me he waits." _Wallahi!_ but his leader had taste, the sentry decided. "Pass," he said gruffly. Even a vizier of such importance as this one must need solace at times, he decided philosophically. She slipped past silently to the tent entrance where the Tuareg guard noticed she paused for a long moment before entering. He grinned into his teguelmoust. Aiii, the little bird was timid before the hawk. She stood for a moment listening, and then slipped inside, dropping the desert musical instrument to the ground. Dave Moroka's back was to her and even as she entered he flicked off the switch of the video-radio into which he had been speaking and scowled at it. When he stood and began to turn, she covered him with the small pocket pistol. She had an ease in handling it which denoted competence. His eyebrows went up, but he remained silent, waiting for her gambit. Isobel said evenly, "You're a Party member, aren't you, Dave?" "Why do you say that?" She nodded infinitesimally to the set. "You were reporting just now. I heard enough just as I came in." He took in her disguise. "My guard isn't as efficient as I had thought," Dave said wryly. Isobel said, "You knew Abe Baker, didn't you?" He looked at her, expressionlessly. She said, "I already knew you belonged to the Party, Dave. No matter how competent an agent, it's something difficult to hide from any other long-time member. There's a terminology you use--such as calling it the Soviet Union, rather than Russia. No commie ever says Russia, it's always _the Soviet Union_. You can tell, just as a Roman Catholic can tell a person raised in the Church, even though the other has dropped away, or even as one Jew can tell another. Yes, I've known you were a Party member for some time, Dave." "And?" the South African said. "Why are you here?"