"What--?" The controller's voice rose, sharp with anger; then fell again, as quickly crafty. "Who is this, anyhow?" "Who would you think?" I countered, chuckling. "It's me, of course, Gaylord--me, your dearest friend, Mark Traynor." "Traynor!" "That's right." Again, I chuckled. "Does it surprise you so much?" "Listen, Traynor--" "I know. You want to get together with me." I paused a moment, letting the tension hang and build. "You know, it could be I'd like to get together with you, too." "Of course, Traynor." Gaylord was getting smoother, silkier, by the second. "Look, I'm up in my office--" "--And if I'll just join you there, you'll be happy beyond words to turn me over to Kruze for trial and disciplinary action. Is that it?" I snorted. "No, thanks, Gaylord. I'm not about to play it that way." "But Traynor, listen--" "You listen!" I let him have it flat and hard and driving. "If you want to see me, you're coming where I am, alone. Play it any other way, and I'll fade so fast you'll never find me." "But--" "Also, I'll figure a way to let Kruze know about you. _All_ about you, thrill-mills included." "Traynor, for heaven's sakes--" "Is it my way, then? My way, all the way?" "Yes, Traynor, yes!" "Good enough, then." I hesitated. "Look: Do you know a thil-shop over on MR2, about three squares from your place?" "Yes." "All right, then. Go there. If the lay of the land looks right, I'll join you." "But--but--" "Goodbye," I said, thumbed down the contact, and stepped back out of the voco station. Celeste turned to me--wordless, watchful. I said, "There's a place on MQ3 where you can get some Ronhnei coffee. Just go straight over. I'll see you there in half an hour." Still wordless, not even nodding, she turned and moved off in the direction I had gestured. Pivoting, I took the opposite tack, heading straight for Rizal Security headquarters. The building loomed dark and forbidding as a mausoleum in the dim green of the night. There was no sign of life. Still, for a moment, I hesitated in the shadows across the street before crossing swiftly to the entrance. A lone light glowed in the inner lobby. Passing through the outer doorway, I drew back into the gloom between it and the inner portals. A minute passed; then two. Nervously, I ran my tongue along my lips. Simultaneously, inside the lobby, a shaft-lift's double panels slid back. Controller Benjamin Gaylord got out, looking tense and unhappy, and came towards the street doors. I pressed even further back from view, flat against the wall of the small offset area just beyond the inner doors. Whipping off my tunic-sash, I looped an end about either hand, leaving the rest of its length to dangle, noose-like, between. Gaylord reached the inside door. Silently, its eye-beam opened it before him. I raised the sash ... poised ... held my breath....