Chapter VII

The voice of Tamis Ravitz came softly, insistently through the steaming prison twilight. "Joel. Joel!"

He swung away from the window through which he'd been staring at the streams of pedestrians outside. "Yes?"

The Ganelon girl lowered her voice. "I've been in communication with my people...."

"What?" Joel couldn't believe his ears. For two days the Unfit had been locked in the prison. All of them in a single barracks-like room. The girl hadn't been out of his sight. "How the devil...."

She smiled, tapped her forehead with a slim forefinger.

"Telepathy?"

She nodded.

Joel's green eyes narrowed. Tamis never failed to astonish him. The suffocating heat didn't bother her in the least.

The other prisoners were sprawled about the floor, many of them stark naked. Clothes of any kind were a torment. The slightest exertion brought fountains of sweat pouring from the skin. But Tamis wasn't even perspiring.

She said, "I've made my report. I've been given permission to tell you certain facts. Is there anything you particularly want to know?"

Joel scratched the bristles on his chin, frowned. "How is it," he asked finally, "that the Ganelons have never been discovered?"

An impish grin crossed her smooth elfin features. "Professor Liedl was almost right."

"Camouflage?"

"Yes. Mental camouflage. Is anyone watching?"

Joel glanced about swiftly. "No."

Tamis put her hand to her throat, unzipped the coveralls. With a sinuous movement, she freed her shoulders. The baggy garment fell about her ankles. She stepped out of them--and disappeared.

Literally!

It took Joel a full moment for the realization to penetrate. He'd caught one arresting glimpse of Tamis, nude like a slim marble statue. Then she'd disappeared into the hot, fertile smelling air like a grain of sugar in a glass of water.

Suddenly he realized that he could still scent her. He became sharply aware of that alien, flower-like odor.

He heard her giggle, whirled around. She was standing not six feet off, regarding him with an amused expression.

"How did you do it?" Joel blurted out.

"It is difficult to explain. You have no words in your language to signify what I just did. I--I removed myself from your range of vision."

"Hell! I know that. But how?"

She tapped her forehead again. "It's done with an understanding of the nervous system."

Joel stared at her without any sign of comprehension.

"How can I make it clear?" she asked helplessly. "There are sounds you can't hear because they extend beyond the range of human ears. There are limits to your vision too. And I removed myself beyond those limits."

He said, "Oh," continuing to regard her fixedly. Then, "You could escape any time."

"Yes," she admitted. "But this is my job. I don't want to escape."

"What exactly is your job?" he demanded.

"Intelligence. There are many of us, both men and women disguised as humans who circulate among the Unfit."

"Then--?" Joel prompted.

"Then we make our reports to the Thinkers."

"You've mentioned these Thinkers before. Who are they?"

"Our scientists. Our wise men." She paused, changed the subject abruptly. "Today, Joel, we are to be sold."

"Damn!" He was appalled, remembering Priscilla Cameron's threat to buy him.

"Joel," she went on earnestly, "you are one of us now. The Thinkers have a job for you."

"For me?"

"Yes. Obviously Priscilla Cameron is interested in you, Joel. You must play up to her. It's the first chance we've had to get a spy close to Governor Cameron...."

"Hell, Tamis," he interrupted with an expression of distaste. "I can't do that!"

"But, Joel, you must! Not even my people have been able to get into the palace."

His green eyes quickened with interest. "Why not? They've been able to insinuate themselves everywhere else."

* * * * *

Tamis shook her head. "We don't know! Dozens of Ganelons have slipped into Governor Cameron's palace. For a while we continue to receive their telepathic reports. Then nothing!"

He said: "Let me get this straight. The Ganelons have sent spies into the palace and all of them have simply vanished?"

She nodded.

"But who detected them, if they were invisible?"

"We don't know. Oh, Joel, that's why it's so important for you to obtain Priscilla Cameron's confidence. Women are--are indiscreet with their lovers."

Joel looked shocked.

"But Joel, she'll buy you anyway! You'll have the run of the palace. Slaves hear things and see things no one else can!"

She paused, saw him wavering, hurried on. "We're blind without someone close to the governor. The Thinkers are worried. They're holding off, afraid to give the word that'll start the revolt."

"How near is it?" he asked.

"We're ready to strike. The Unfit have stolen arms, built secret laboratories in the jungle. But we don't dare go ahead until we find out how much the governor knows. We may be blundering into a trap."

Joel drew a deep breath. "All right," he agreed reluctantly, "I'll try. How do I pass my information on--if I get any?"

She looked relieved. "The Thinkers will contact you."

A yell from outside their prison interrupted her. Somebody blew a whistle. A chorus of shouts, muted by the thick walls, reached them faintly.

Joel swung toward the door. The prisoners were all staring in that direction too.

Nick Thorp scrambled to his feet, came over to Joel and Tamis. "What's the fuss?"

Tamis shrugged naked ivory shoulders. She slipped into her coveralls, a frown tugging at her eyebrows.

Suddenly a siren turned loose like a blast from the last trumpet. Joel jumped involuntarily.

"Someone's escaped!" Tamis gasped.

The door burst open. Guards spilled into their prison. They wore white shorts and tunics and carried paralyzers. The dapper colonel was no longer jaunty. His face was red.

"Line up against the wall!" he shouted in a furious tone.

Joel fell into line beside Tamis and Thorp. The colonel opened the muster, barked, "Allyn!"

"Here."

"Aus'l!"

"Here."

"Baden!"

"Here."

Through the open door, Joel could see a white uniformed guard sprawled on the floor. Blood trickled from his mouth and nose and the doctor was fussing over him.

The colonel reached the D's. Then he said, "Eriss."

There was no answer.

"Eriss!" he repeated. The silence was explosive. No one breathed.

Joel craned his neck, looked up and down the line. The shaggy ex-surgeon was conspicuously absent!

The colonel swore. He turned on an under-officer at his elbow. "That's the man!" he said savagely. "Get his dossier and put his picture on the televisor immediately!"

The under-officer sprinted from the room, almost collided with a man entering the prison. Joel saw that it was the guard who'd been lying unconscious outside the door. His white uniform was blood-spattered and he was holding a handkerchief to his nose.

The colonel caught sight of him at the same time, asked in a cold voice, "What happened to you?"

The guard looked unhappy. "This fellow called me to the door. He asked to see you."

"See me?"

"Yes, sir. He said some of the prisoners were planning to escape. He wouldn't tell me about it. I was taking him to you...."

"Why did you let him out? Why didn't you send for me?" The colonel's voice was brittle as ice.

"He acted frightened, sir. Said they would kill him if he wasn't taken out."

"I see. Then he hit you. Is that it?"

"Yes, sir. As I was locking the door after him. I dropped the paralyzer. He snatched it and turned it on me. I don't remember anything else." The guard hesitated. "Did he get away, sir?"

"Yes. From the roof. Helicopter." The colonel turned on his heel, marched from the room. The guards withdrew.

Joel could hear the wailing screams of sirens rising all over the city.

"But where can he escape to?" Joel asked.

Tamis gave him a sober glance, lowered her voice. "There are half a dozen bands of escaped serfs in the jungle. My people have been protecting them. He may be able to join them--if the nigel trees don't get him first."

Thorp said, "Good riddance."

Joel didn't say anything. The ex-surgeon was a shrewd, brutal man. He didn't think the nigel trees would be able to catch him.

* * * * *

The slave block was located in the principal square of Eden. Joel had been escorted thither along with the other prisoners, stripped and chained naked inside a long pavillion like the cattle sheds at a fair.

Streams of planters flowed through the pavillion, studying the prisoners, discussing their good and bad points before bidding on them. A good natured holiday air pervaded the throng. Alternately Joel was white-lipped with fury and red with embarrassment at their pointed observations.

All at once he stiffened, catching sight of Priscilla Cameron heading straight for him through the crowd.

Joel flushed darkly. He had never disliked anyone with the passion he felt for this girl with her defiant green hair, her slim cool arrogance.

Tamis Ravitz was chained in the stall next to Joel. The Ganelon girl leaned over and said, "Here she comes. Remember!"

"I see her. Who's the fellow with her?"

"General Roos. Fredrik Roos. He's head of the Asgardian Police."

Joel thought the police chief looked young and dashing in the white Asgardian uniform. A tiny jeweled paralyzer was belted about his waist.

There was a twinkle in Priscilla's green eyes when she paused in front of Joel's stall.

"Here he is, Freddy. Isn't he lovely?"

Joel stiffened.

"Lord," General Fredrik Roos drawled, "what a big brute!"

"Isn't he, though?"

Despite her light manner, Joel sensed a strain in Priscilla's voice. She was wearing a diminutive yellow jacket with puffed sleeves and a matching skirt. The shimmering microweb accentuated the firm youthful modeling of breast, hip and thigh.

"Did you ever see such shoulders?" he heard her ask Roos. "He's magnificent!" She turned back to Joel. "Flex your biceps, Joel."

Their eyes locked. Joel didn't move, but an expression of surprise swept his features.

For a moment, Priscilla's guard had dropped. Fear was mirrored in her vivid green eyes. Fear and appeal. The girl was in a panic!

"Surly brute," Roos said.

"Oh, I'll tame him," she began gaily. Then she broke off, staring at Tamis Ravitz with a frozen startled expression.

Tamis was crouched against the wall in fright. Her small breasts rose and fell rapidly.

Priscilla wheeled suddenly, beckoned a guard. "That girl! Get her out of those chains and take her to the governor!"

The guard looked startled. He glanced at General Roos for confirmation.

Roos' face hardened. "Do what Miss Cameron says!"

The guard looked bewildered, but he hauled Tamis to her feet, unlocked the shackles. They fell to the floor with a clank.

Tamis straightened. Like the rest of the Unfit, she had been stripped of her baggy coveralls. She looked like a painting of Psyche by Boucher. She took one step....

"Keep hold of her wrist!" Priscilla cried.

But Tamis had vanished!