years, Drummer, pushing your pet ideas to loosen
up controls here and give more civil liberties there.
You call yourself a Progressive, whatever the
hell that's supposed to mean. To me, you're a
revolutionist, undermining Narval's government,
and trying to cram your politics down our throats."

Scarf moved away from the bar, drink in hand.
Taking a long noisy swallow, he fixed his eyes on
Drummer from above the rim.

Lowering his drink, he belched again and wiped his
mouth with his sleeve. Placing the tumbler on a
nearby table he took another step toward Drummer.

"Being on the Council saves your neck for now,
Drummer," he said with venom. "Soon as Narval
gets wise to you, and kicks your tail off, I'll be
coming after you."

He reached Drummer's table.

"On second thought, why wait that long," his voice
changed to a snarl. "Now's as good a time as any."

He grasped the front of Drummer's cloak and jerked
him to his feet.

"Tell me, old man, what can you do that Narval
can't?"

The onlookers' silence hung heavily. The stale
incense rose in eddies and diffused the shadows
cast by the glowing wall sconces.

"Show's over, Scarf," said Drummer in a low voice,
trying to twist away. "I've got to be on my way."

He placed his hand over Scarf's huge paw to loosen
its grip.

They were of equal height, but Scarf, more than
twice Drummer's mass and build, would have none
of it.

"The hell you do," he growled, tightening his hold.

Scarf began to shake Drummer, at first slowly, then
with growing violence. Drummer, unable to maintain
balance, slipped to his knees. Scarf jerked upward,
raising Drummer on unsteady feet. Ramming his
face close, he cursed in a loud, coarse monotone,
swinging Drummer in one direction, then another.
Unable to disengage, Drummer was confused. His
cloak tore, his hair fluttered about his face, and
specks of spittle flew from his lips.

Brad and Hodak watched the action from where
they sat. Scarf's sudden outburst was of more
than passing interest. He had called his victim
"Drummer," a name familiar to Brad through the
many intelligence briefings he had been given during
indoctrination; also, "Scarf" was a name used in
the immigration clerk's call from the landing site.

Other than military, who and what was Scarf, and
why was he tormenting Drummer? More important,
could this bar-room brawl be exploited to the
Sentinels' advantage? They desperately needed
contacts within Narva