kan Vall
saw the sinister thing that he had seen on so many other time-lines,
in so many other paratime sectors--a great pillar of varicolored
fire-shot smoke, rising to a mushroom head fifty thousand feet above.

"Well, that's it," Klarnood said sadly. "That is civil war."

"May I make a suggestion, Assassin-President?" Verkan Vall asked. "I
understand that Assassins' Truce is binding even upon non-Assassins;
is that correct?"

"Well, not exactly; it's generally kept by such non-Assassins as want
to remain in their present reincarnations, though."

"That's what I meant. Well, suppose you declare a general, planet-wide
Assassins' Truce in this political war, and make the leaders of both
parties responsible for keeping it. Publish lists of the top two or
three thousand Statisticalists and Volitionalists, starting with
Mirzark of Bashad and Prince Jirzyn of Starpha, and inform them that
they will be assassinated, in order, if the fighting doesn't cease."

"Well!" A smile grew on Klarnood's face. "Lord Virzal, my thanks; a
good suggestion. I'll try it. And furthermore, I'll withdraw all
Assassin protection permanently from anybody involved in political
activity, and forbid any Assassin to accept any retainer connected
with political factionalism. It's about time our members stopped
discarnating each other in these political squabbles." He pointed to
the three airboats drawn up on the top of the dome; speedy black
craft, bearing the red oval and winged bullet. "Take your choice, Lord
Virzal. I'll lend you a couple of my men, and you'll be in Ghamma in
three hours." He hooked fingers and clapped shoulders with Verkan
Vall, bent over Dalla's hand. "I still like you, Lord Virzal, and I
have seldom met a more charming lady than you, Lady Dallona. But I
sincerely hope I never see either of you again."

* * * * *

The ship for Dhergabar was driving north and west; at seventy thousand
feet, it was still daylight, but the world below was wrapping itself
in darkness. In the big visiscreens, which served in lieu of the
windows which could never have withstood the pressure and friction
heat of the ship's speed, the sun was sliding out of sight over the
horizon to port. Verkan Vall and Dalla sat together, watching the
blazing western sky--the sky of their own First Level time-line.

"I blame myself terribly, Vall," Dalla was saying. "And I didn't mean
any of them the least harm. All I was interes