answers from you I want to hear go down
on the recorder, sweetheart. And be sure they sound right. I don't
want to waste time on replays. You and Quillan were here on the Star.
You got some idea of what was happening, realized you were due to be
vaporized along with the rest of them after we left. There was no way
out of the jam for you unless you could keep the operation from being
carried out. You don't, by the way, mention getting any of that
information from me. I don't want Lancion to think I'm beginning to
get dopey. You and Quillan just cooked up this story, and he managed
to get into the Executive Block. The idea being to knock off as many
of the leaders as he could, and mess things up."

* * * * *

Fluel picked up the recorder, stood up, and placed it on the chair.
"That's all you have to remember. You're a smart girl; you can fill in
the details any way you like. Now let's get started--"

She stared at him silently for an instant, a muscle beginning to
twitch in her cheek. "If I do that," she said, "if I give you a story
Nome will like, what happens next?"

Fluel shrugged. "Just what you're thinking happens next. You're a dead
little girl right now, Reetal. Might as well get used to the idea.
You'd be dead anyhow four, five hours from now, so that shouldn't make
too much difference. What makes a lot of difference is just how
unpleasant the thing can get."

She drew a long breath. "Duke, I--"

"You're stalling, sweetheart."

"Duke, give me a break. I really didn't know a thing about this. I--"

He looked down at her for a moment. "I gave you a break," he said.
"You've wasted it. Now we'll try it the other way. If we work a few
squeals into the recording, that'll make it more convincing to
Lancion. He'll figure little Reetal's the type who wouldn't spill a
thing like that without a little pressure." He checked himself,
grinned. "And that reminds me. When you're talking for the record, use
your own voice."

"My own voice?" she half whispered.

"Nome will remember what you sound like--and I've heard that voice
imitations are part of your stock in trade. You might think it was
cute if Nome got to wondering after you were dead whether that really
had been you talking. Don't try it, sweetheart."

He brought a glove out of his jacket pocket, slipped it over his left
hand, flexing his fingers to work it into position. Reetal's eyes
fastened on the rounded metal tips capping