Miss Twilley eyed the paper, skipping over the legal jargon, but carefully reading the specific provisions. It was deceptively simple and completely binding. But it didn't vary from Lyf's proposals. She would have ten years of health, wealth and beauty, in return for which she would surrender her body to Lyf, mardak of Gnoth, to employ as he saw fit--within certain limits provided by the exceptions. She sighed. It was fair enough, she supposed. There were a few exceptions like the suicide clause that allowed Lyf to take immediate possession if she tried to kill herself, and the war clause which permitted him to remove her to a safe place for the duration of the conflict. She shrugged. There didn't seem to be anything wrong with it except the tone. Somehow it managed to convey the impression of a property rather than a personal transaction. "It's always best to keep these things impersonal," the Devi said. "You sign on the bottom line underneath my cartouche." Miss Twilley signed. "And now," Lyf said briskly "there are a few formalities. Not that I don't trust you, of course, but business is business. Will you please disrobe?" "Must I?" Lyf nodded. "You must. I realize that this is embarrassing for you, but it would be infinitely more embarrassing if I placed my mark upon you while you were clothed." Miss Twilley shivered a little as she reached for the zipper of her skirt. But she had expected something like this. Lyf looked at her critically. "You're worse than I thought," he said. "However, your skeleton seems structurally sound and well proportioned. Now please turn around." Miss Twilley had hardly turned her back when a lance of numbing cold struck her in the base of the spine. She jumped involuntarily as Lyf's voice came to her ears. "There--that does it." He walked past her and turned off the T.V. The black hole winked out, leaving a shattered picture tube where it had been. "Now that you're a sixth order focal point we can dispense with this monstrosity," he said. "The automatics on Hel will generate a new gateway shortly." "Now what?" Miss Twilley asked. She wasn't sure that she liked the idea of being a sixth order focus. "The mark leaves a small red lesion," Lyf said, "but it won't bother you. However, I should warn you not to attempt to have it removed. That could be quite painful and perhaps fatal." He moved in front of her. "I expect that we'd better start therapy right away. That tumor isn't going to be easy to remove." His eyes were level with her own, twin pools of clear bottomless green with the darker spots of his pupils sharply demarcated from the surrounding iris. With mild surprise she realized that they were oval rather than round, and that their ellipses were growing--and encompassing her in their inner darkness. * * * * *