Herndon knew that Brennt would probably notify Mardlin that the game was up immediately, so the Vonnimooro could attempt to get away. Herndon was not particularly worried about Mardlin escaping, since he had a weapon that would work on the jackal-creature at any distance whatever. But he had sworn an oath to safeguard the combine's interests, and Herndon was a man of his oath. Mardlin was in possession of thirty-nine starstones for which the combine had paid. He did not want the Vonnimooro to take those with him. He legged it across town hurriedly to the house where the courier lived while at the Vyapore end of his route. It took him fifteen minutes from Brennt's to Mardlin's--more than enough time for a warning. Mardlin's room was on the second story. Herndon drew his weapon from his pocket and knocked. "Mardlin?" There was no answer. Herndon said, "I know you're in there, jackal. The game's all over. You might as well open the door and let me in." A needle came whistling through the door, embedded itself against the opposite wall after missing Herndon's head by inches. Herndon stepped out of range and glanced down at the object in his hand. It was the master-control for the neuronic network installed in Mardlin's body. It was quite carefully gradated; shifting the main switch to _six_ would leave the Vonnimooro in no condition to fire a gun. Thoughtfully Herndon nudged the indicator up through the degrees of pain to _six_ and left it there. He heard a thud within. Putting his shoulder to the door, he cracked it open with one quick heave. He stepped inside. Mardlin lay sprawled in the middle of the floor, writhing in pain. Near him, but beyond his reach, lay the needler he had dropped. A suitcase sat open and half-filled on the bed. He had evidently intended an immediate getaway. "_Shut ... that ... thing ... off_ ..." Mardlin muttered through pain-twisted lips. "First some information," Herndon said cheerfully. "I just had a talk with Brennt. He says you've been doing some highly improper things with our starstones. Is this true?" Mardlin quivered on the floor but said nothing. Herndon raised the control a quarter of a notch, intensifying the pain but not yet bringing it to the killing range. "Is this true?" he repeated. "Yes--yes! Damn you, shut it off." "At the time you had the network installed in your body, it was with the understanding that you'd be loyal to the combine and so it would never need to be used. But you took advantage of circumstances and cheated us. Where's the current consignment of stones?" "... suitcase lining," Mardlin muttered. "Good," Herndon said. He scooped up the needler, pocketed it, and shut off the master-control switch. The pain subsided in the Vonnimooro's body, and he lay slumped, exhausted, too battered to rise.