Carroll sighed. "Well, we are committed now. We must go ahead." "I will need detailed information on Landing's plan of inspection," Wolf said. "You will have it," Carroll told him. "Daimya has been in the city for five days, listening and watching." "Good," said Wolf. He felt better now, getting into the operation. This he knew, this he could handle. It was what he was trained for. It was the other things that were bad, the thinking, the wondering, the long nights spent sleepless, uncertain. "When will he be back?" Wolf asked. "This Daimya." "She. Daimya is my daughter," Carroll said. "Even our children must have blood on their hands. She will return this evening." * * * * * Daimya came, just after dark. Wolf was startled. He had expected a child, from the way Carroll spoke, and Daimya was far from a child. She was a slim woman, in her early twenties, he estimated. Her body was sleek and fit, and her long black hair was tied behind her head, where it flowed over her back like a waterfall carved from ebony. She had large eyes, slightly almond shaped, that regarded him solemnly as she gave the information she had gathered. "He will come to inspect this village in two days," she said. "He will visit four farms, picked at random, and then there will be a procession down the main street." "That would be our time," Wolf mused. "Crowds about." "Some will be killed," Daimya objected. "His guards will not take this thing lightly." "I am sorry," Wolf said sincerely. "It is our best chance of success." Daimya shrugged. "You are the killer, not I," she said, with obvious distaste. Wolf felt an impulse to explain, to justify, to make this slight girl see that he hated this. Angrily he fought it down. _It doesn't matter what she thinks_, he told himself. _It doesn't matter. What matters is to get the job done and get out. That's all._ "Tell me," Daimya said curiously, "how do you come to be mixed up in a thing like this? You don't act like a hired killer." Wolf laughed shortly. "No," he said. "I'm an amateur. I was a Captain of the Security Patrol once. My whole family was in Federation Service, as a matter of fact. I was on Colony Patrol for three years. In that time I saw so much suffering, so much injustice, so much simple cruelty that--well, never mind. When I was contacted by a member of the revolution underground, I deserted. It almost killed my father. Since I was familiar with the Federation's higher echelons, I was assigned the pleasant job of assassin." "How many men have you killed in that job?" Daimya asked, almost casually. Wolf watched her for a long moment before answering. "You don't want to know that," he said slowly. The girl dropped her eyes. "No. No, I guess you're right. I'm sorry." She stood and went to the door. She stopped there and turned, looking at Wolf. He met her eyes and held them with his own, frankly, without embarrassment.