"What sort of work would you have me do?" Heitman Oversk said, "Our trade is to bring starstones in from the Rim worlds where they are mined, and sell them to those who can afford our price. The price, incidentally, is fifty thousand stellors. We pay eight thousand for them, and are responsible for shipping them ourselves. We need a supervisor to control the flow of starstones from our source-world to Borlaam. We can handle the rest at this end." "It pays well," Benjin added. "Your wage would be five thousand stellors per month, plus a full voice in the organization." Herndon considered. The starstone trade was the most vicious in the galaxy; the hypnotic gems rapidly became compulsive, and within a year after being exposed to one constantly a man lost his mind and became a drooling idiot, able only to contemplate the kaleidoscopic wonders locked within his stone. The way to addiction was easy. Only a strong man could voluntarily rip his eyes from a starstone, once he had glimpsed it. Herndon had proven himself strong. The sort of man who could slay a newly-purchased slave could look up from a starstone. He said, "What are the terms?" "Full bonding," Benjin said. "Including surgical implantation of a safety device." "I don't like that." "We all wear them," Oversk said. "Even myself." "If all of you wear them," Herndon said, "To whom are you responsible?" "There is joint control. I handle the outworld contacts; Oversk, here, locates prospective patrons. Dorgel and Razumod are expediters who deal in collection problems and protection. We control each other." "But there must be somebody who has the master-control for the safety devices," Herndon protested. "Who is that?" "It rotates from month to month. I hold them this month," Benjin said. "Next month it is Oversk's turn." * * * * * Herndon paced agitatedly up and down in the darkened room. It was a tempting offer; five thousand a month could allow him to live on high scales. And Oversk was the brother of Lord Moaris, who was known to be the Seigneur's confidante. And Lord Moaris' lady controlled Lord Moaris. Herndon saw a pattern taking shape, a pattern that ultimately would put the Seigneur Krellig within his reach. But he did not care to have his body invaded by safety devices. He knew how those worked; if he were to cheat against the organization, betray it, attempt to leave it without due cause, whoever operated the master-control could reduce him to a grovelling pain-racked slave instantly. The safety-device could only be removed by the surgeon who had installed it. It meant accepting the yoke of this group of starstone smugglers. But there was a higher purpose in mind for Herndon. "I conditionally accept," he said. "Tell me specifically what my duties will be."