His hand closed, and instantaneously Herndon felt a bright bolt of pain shiver through the calf of his leg. A twitch of Benjin's finger and an arrow of red heat lanced Herndon's shoulder. Another twitch and a clammy hand seemed to squeeze his heart. "Enough!" Herndon shouted. He realized he had signed away his liberty forever, if Benjin chose to exert control. But it did not matter to him. He had actually signed away his liberty the day he had vowed to watch the death of the Seigneur Krellig. Benjin reached into his tunic-pocket and drew forth a little leather portfolio. "Your passport and other travelling necessities," he explained. "I have my own passport," Herndon said. Benjin shook his head. "This is a better one. It comes with a visa to Vyapore." To the surgeon he said, "How soon can he travel?" "Tonight, if necessary." "Good. Herndon, you'll leave tonight." * * * * * The ship was the _Lord Nathiir_, a magnificent super-liner bound on a thousand light-year cruise to the Rim stars. Benjin had arranged for Herndon to travel outward on a luxury liner without cost, as part of the entourage of Lord and Lady Moaris. Oversk had obtained the job for him--second steward to the noble couple, who were vacationing on the Rim pleasure-planet of Molleccogg. Herndon had not objected when he learned that he was to travel in the company of Lord--and especially Lady--Moaris. The ship was the greatest of the Borlaam luxury fleet. Even on Deck C, in his steward's quarters, Herndon rated a full-grav room with synthik drapery and built-in chromichron; he had never lived so well even at his parents' home, and they had been among the first people of Zonnigog at one time. His duties called for him to pay court upon the nobles each evening, so that they might seem more resplendent in comparison with the other aristocrats travelling aboard. The Moarises had brought the largest entourage with them, over a hundred people including valets, stewards, cooks, and paid sycophants. Alone in his room during the hour of blastoff, Herndon studied his papers. A visa to Vyapore. So _that_ was where the starstones came from--! Vyapore, the jungle planet of the Rim, where civilization barely had a toehold. No wonder the starstone trade was so difficult to control. When the ship was safely aloft and the stasis generators had caused the translation into nullspace, Herndon dressed in the formal black-and-red court garments of Lord Moaris' entourage. Then, making his way up the broad companionway, he headed for the Grand Ballroom, where Lord Moaris and his lady were holding court for the first night of the voyage outward. The ballroom was festooned with ropes of living light. A dancing bear from Albireo XII cavorted clumsily near the entrance as Herndon entered. Borlaamese in uniforms identical to his own stood watch at the door, and nodded to him when he identified himself as Second Steward.