In their Eden."

The man was mad ... perhaps. Meikl's eyes followed the men who
approached through the shrubs. One of them carried a burden--the limp
body of a girl, occasionally visible through the low foliage as they
drew nearer. One of the men was a junior officer, the other a native.
After a moment, he recognized the native....

"Evon!"

As he called out, the baron whirled, hand slipping to the hilt of the
ceremonial sword he wore in the presence of the Geoark. The men stopped.
Meikl stared at the limp figure in the arms of the native.

"_Letha!_"

"Dead," Evon hissed. "They killed her for running...."

They emerged from the shrubs into full view. The officer was holding a
gun.

"Put that away!" ven Klaeden snapped.

The young officer laughed sourly. "Sorry, baron, I'm from the
committee."

"_Guard!_"

There's no one in earshot, Baron."

"Fool!" Ven Klaeden arrogantly whipped out the sword. "Drop that gun, or
I'll blade-whip you!"

"Easy, baron, easy. I'm your executioner...."

The baron straightened haughtily and began a slow advance, a towering
figure of icy dignity in the sun that filtered through the foliage.

"... but I want to take care of this one first." The renegade waved the
gun toward Meikl. "You, Baron, you can have it slower--a needle in your
official rump."

Ven Klaeden, a figure of utter contempt, continued the slow advance with
the sword. The officer's lips tightened. He squeezed the trigger. Ven
Klaeden hesitated, jerking slightly, then continued, his hand pressing
against his abdomen, doubling forward slightly. The officer fired
again--a sharp snap of sound in the glade. The baron stopped, wrestling
with pain ten feet from the pale renegade.

Suddenly he flung the sword. It looped in mid-air and slashed the man's
face from chin to cheekbone. He tripped and tumbled backward as ven
Klaeden slipped to his knees on the moss.

Meikl dived for the gun. By the time he wrestled it away from the
officer with the bloody face, ven Klaeden was sitting like a gaunt
Buddha on the moss, and the body of Letha lay nearby, while a confused
Evon clutched his hands to his face and rocked slowly. Meikl came slowly
to his feet. The renegade officer wiped his face of blood and shrank
back into shrubs.

"Get him," croaked ven Klaeden.

Scarcely knowing why, the analyst jerked the trigger, felt the gun
explode in his fist, saw the renegade topple.

There was a moment of stillness in the glade, b