The information Tyler learned about the Confederate base from Sergeant Konner was as heartening as it was disquieting. It appeared that once he made it to the base, there would be only three sets of guards he needed to get past before reaching the room where Keth B'Okhaim and his th'Maran lover, Saunorel, lived with their two children, and that room would be clearly marked by the presence of a pair of soldiers, at least one of which was th'Maran. However, getting into the base—and back out again—might prove more difficult than Tyler had anticipated. But difficult did not mean impossible.

Tyler turned off the main highway and onto the well-traveled road that led to the base's outer gate, the first obstacle in the gauntlet he would have to run this night to reach his objective.

According to Konner, he would need convincing identification to get through the gate, which meant he'd have to use the counterfeit card supplied by Gaunis's man, but Tyler made it a rule never to depend solely on other people. If the card did not pass visual inspection or if the guards tried to run a scan of the fake computer imprint, Tyler would need some way to win past them. For that he would depend on his own abilities.

He reached into the pack he had placed on the passenger seat. He withdrew a small packet, ripped it open with his teeth, and let the two capsules it contained drop into his mouth. He grimaced at the bitter, metallic taste of the dissolving drug.

Normally, Tyler avoided drugs, alcohol, and all other forms of chemical depressants/stimulants/enhancers as a matter of course, but this one was different. Formulated from the same base substance as effelin—a drug designed to inhibit th'Maran mental abilities—it had a special effect for him.

A year and a half earlier, Tyler had begun a six-month stay on the planet Marasyn as a prisoner of the newly formed Free World Confederacy. Forced to live under the watchful eyes and minds of demure, imperturbable th'Maran, his captivity had been six months of quiet hell, but he had come away with a gift he only began to appreciate fully in the past several weeks. His time among the th'Maran had awakened in him a hitherto unsuspected mental ability.

After his escape from Marasyn, he experimented with his newfound talents and made some small progress, but it was not until he began to hear rumors about the effects of one of the newest drugs to hit the streets that he realized there might be a way to enhance those abilities.

The new drug, known by a host of names—rant, mirror, menta—but referred to most commonly as mecklin, produced a variety of effects that seemed to depend mainly on the user's psi abilities, or lack thereof.

Most people reported an intense heightening of the five normal senses—a common enough effect of street drugs—while a minority of others claimed that mecklin released within them a kind of sixth sense that allowed them to "look into another's soul."

Many of the dubious religious groups that existed on society's fringe had begun to use the drug at their masses to help their devotees "commune" with one another. And then someone discovered that large doses of undiluted mecklin administered to a th'Maran caused a series of powerful reactions that could often be sensed by nearby "spectators" and which inevitably ended with the th'Maran's dramatic death. Shortly after this discovery, a new sport appeared among those who enjoyed that sort of thing, and the th'Maran who chose to leave Marasyn and live among their human forebears found a new threat facing them.

After hearing tales of mecklin's effects and spending several weeks making careful inquiries to assure himself it had no dangerous side effects, Tyler purchased a dose and took it to the safety of his small apartment to test the drug on himself.

The experiment had been an outstanding success; his th'Maran-awakened abilities increased dramatically and he noted no adverse reaction save for a slight disorientation when he employed them. He had taken several more dosages of varying potency to learn to control his mecklin-enhanced abilities with the same smooth finesse he controlled his unenhanced ones.

At the time, the dosages had been almost prohibitively expensive, but now that expenditure had paid off. Now he had an almost limitless supply of credits—compliments of Gaunis—and a chance to escape from Arecia, something the Confederacy's tight security and flatteringly high bounty had prevented him from doing on his own.

The mecklin dosage he had just taken should last him the time it would take to complete his task on the base and get safely away to where Gaunis's men waited to take him off Arecia. He had more of the drug with him should he require it.

A brightening of the road ahead told Tyler he was nearing the base's outer gate. He slowed the car as he approached the guardhouse and studied the scene.

A heavy gate and fence enclosed a large semi-circular section of open ground backed by a sheer face of rock—the flank of the mountain that housed the base. An assortment of vehicles dotted the brightly lit area. Beyond the vehicles, at the base of the cliff, a massive armored metal door had been retracted partially upward into the rock face, leaving an opening several meters high.

According to Konner, that opening led to three diverging tunnels. The middle tunnel would deliver Tyler to the vehicle pool from which Konner had taken the car and to which Tyler must return it. From there, he needed to walk only a short distance across the main hangar to reach the entrance to the base's administrative and living areas.

He halted the car beside the spot-lit guardhouse door.

A guard came through the doorway and stepped up to the car to peer in the open window.

"Good evening, Sergeant," the guard said. "May I see your ID?"

Tyler had the fake card ready and handed it through the window. He caught the guard's eyes and made sure their fingers touched briefly as the card exchanged hands. Bolstered by the mecklin in his system, the brief look and touch were all he needed to plant a suggestion of goodwill in the guard's pleasantly receptive mind.

Tyler hardly noticed the wave of drug-induced disorientation that swept over him momentarily, and then was gone.

The guard looked at the ID, briefly compared its holo of Tyler to the real thing, and then handed it back with a smile and a nod. He returned to the guardhouse to activate the control that opened the gate.

Experiencing a brief moment of triumph at having passed the first obstacle so easily, Tyler eased the car past the barrier and onto the base.

He drove across the open area, under the raised armored door, and into a lighted cavern from which opened the three expected passageways. He directed the car down the middle one, and then veered left when he reached the main hangar, turning toward the triple row of groundcars that made up the base's vehicle pool.

He parked the car and picked up his pack of supplies. He left the car's ignition card in its slot, and started across the huge cavern toward the entrance to the base's admin area, walking with an easy, confident stride.

"Excuse me, Sergeant," a voice called from a short distance, behind and to his right.

He looked toward the source of the voice.

In a small lighted alcove located on the far side of the three rows of cars, a young Army soldier sat at a desk.

He beckoned for Tyler to join him. "You've got to check in the car."

Tyler started in his direction, thinking fast. Konner hadn't mentioned anything about any check-in procedure; then again, Tyler hadn't asked. He wondered what other information he'd failed to obtain during the unavoidably hasty interrogation.

"I'll be taking the car out again in a while," he told the youthful soldier as he approached the alcove—not a lie, if everything went as planned. "I figured I could skip all the check-in, check-out stuff."

"I've got orders to check 'em all in, regardless, sir. That way, if you don't come back for some reason, I don't have to get clearance from Central for a data fix. You know how Central hates fixes."

Tyler nodded and hoped the soldier read his sour expression as his opinion of Central's attitude toward data fixes; in actuality, the look reflected his opinion of the Confederacy's security measures.

"Uh, sir, I'll need the starter card and your ID," the soldier said when Tyler made no move to go along with what must be a well-known procedure.

"Yeah—right," he stammered, as if his thoughts had been elsewhere. He dug into his pocket for his counterfeit ID, and palmed Konner's card in the process. "I left the starter in the car. Like I said, I'll be taking it out again." He handed over the fake ID card.

"I guess that'll be all right," the youth said. He passed Tyler's card over a scanner. He gave the device a quizzical look when nothing happened, and then ran the card across it again. This time it was the card that received the look. "Sir, I—"

"Here," Tyler said, "let me try." He set aside his pack and walked around the desk. He placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder as he retrieved the fake card and passed Konner's real one, hidden in his palm, over the scanning unit.

The computer beeped and data flashed onto the screen.

Tyler gave the soldier a triumphant smile.

"It's nothing you did wrong." Tyler held the soldier's eyes and attempted to plant a suggestion of trust and comradeship into the youth's mind. "I've been having trouble with my ID card everywhere. Guess I'll have to get a new one."

The soldier nodded, but he did not look convinced, and his mind had not yielded even slightly to Tyler's attempt at control. He looked at the computer screen, and then craned his neck for a view of the car Tyler had brought.

"Sir, this is wrong." The soldier indicated the screen. "This says the car you brought in—number six-five-two—was checked out by someone named Konner. Your ID says you're Karl Andrayco."

"That's because it's my name," Tyler said with growing impatience. "The computer must have fouled something up." He caught the youth's eyes again and exerted pressure with his mind, fighting to ignore the dizzying sensations elicited by his actions.

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This time, the soldier's will parted, but the control Tyler achieved was far less than he would have preferred.

The roaring disorientation of the mecklin continued to grow.

"It's a computer error," he said forcefully, driving the truth of that statement into a mind barely willing to accept it. "I've been having trouble with my ID; the computer read it wrong when I checked the car out and put Konner's name on the record instead of mine. But the car I checked out was six-five-two, the car I brought back was six-five-two, and the car on the record is the same one. Clear it."

The soldier reached out with reluctant obedience. "It's clear."

"Good. Now listen to me very carefully." He turned the chair so the soldier faced him squarely, put both his hands on the youth's shoulders and looked deep into his eyes—into his soul, as the mecklin users put it. "I'll be back soon to take the car out again. I won't need to check it out then if I don't want to; I can just take it. Got that?"

"Sure, Sergeant, you can just take it." His tone was light, with the airy quality of a dreamer's voice. "No check-out required."

Tyler released his hold on the youth's shoulders and broke the contact with his mind.

"See you in a while," Tyler said as he stepped around the desk to retrieve his pack.

He moved toward the guarded entrance to the base's admin area, forced to concentrate hard to keep his stride steady as the effects of the mecklin slowly subsided.

The guard at the main entrance watched him as he approached, and Tyler wondered if he had seen the encounter in the vehicle-pool alcove and, if so, whether he suspected anything. But whatever the guard's thoughts, they didn't appear to involve either the encounter or Tyler. The soldier waved him through the wide opening with only a brief glance at the ID Tyler held out for inspection.

Following the directions Konner provided, Tyler made his way to the corridor where Konner's quarters were located. He waited until the passage was empty, and then hurried to the correct door and opened it with the sergeant's key.

The room was tiny, with a small desk and shelves in one corner, a closet in the other, and a pull-down bunk that appeared permanently locked in the down position. A quick search of the room revealed nothing of interest.

Tyler pulled off the uniform jacket he wore, set the pack he brought on the bed, and began removing its contents.

He set the laser pistol aside. With a few notable exceptions, no one could bring weapons into the area of the base the next part of his plan required him to enter. He would come back for the gun before he left the base. The remaining packets of mecklin and a handful of tiny liquid-gas vials and marble grenades containing effelin went into his trouser pockets. A flat, fist-sized electronic device joined them.

A small needle gun guaranteed free of materials detectable by Confederate weapons scanners fit nicely in an inner pocket of Konner's uniform jacket. The gun's twenty rounds contained effelin, as well as a powerful sedative.

Tyler folded the now-empty pack into a small square and tucked it into another pocket of the jacket, slung the jacket casually over his shoulder, stepped from the room, and started toward his quarry's quarters.

Moments later, he spotted a guard post—the next obstacle between himself and the children.

Three soldiers stood at the post, but it was clear by their positions that only one was on duty. The three were deep in conversation, and for a brief moment, Tyler entertained the possibility that he would be able to simply walk past the trio without question. But that hope faded as he drew near and the soldier on duty looked up. The other two moved aside as Tyler stepped up to the post, the ID Gaunis had supplied ready in his hand.

The guard examined the ID, briefly comparing its holo to its bearer.

"Who're you here to see, Sergeant?" he asked as Tyler returned the card to his pocket.

"The general wanted to see me at my convenience," he said.

Konner had been unable to supply Tyler with a reasonable excuse for entering this area of the base, but he had provided a list of some of the people who lived there—including the general. Based on that information, Tyler had come up with a story he hoped would get him past the guard post. He forced a troubled look onto his face.

"He said I should come to his quarters this evening if I didn't make it to his office during the day. It's, uh…" He hesitated, a pained look in his eyes. "It's about my brother. He's missing." He glanced hopefully between the three men, and then placed a hand on the guard's arm as if seeking support. "Do you think the general has good news?" He looked imploringly at the man.

"Let me give the general a call." The guard reached for the comm unit on the desk before him.

"He's expecting me." Tyler put the full force of his will behind the words. "I just spoke with him, and he said I should come right over." As he spoke, he placed in the man's mind an image of calling the general and getting permission for Tyler to visit.

The guard's hand slipped off the comm unit and he gestured down the hallway behind him. "Go ahead."

Tyler nodded and stepped past the guard post. He had to fight to keep from stumbling as the mecklin made his head spin.

"Good luck with your brother," one of the men called after Tyler.

Tyler glanced back with what he hoped was a thankful smile, and then, still fighting the effects of the mecklin, he continued down the hallway.

He turned the first corner he came to, collapsed against the wall, and waited until the disorientation subsided. He took a quick look around. There was no one in sight.

Konner had been able to give only rough directions to the room Tyler sought, but he had been certain it would be easily identifiable by its two guards. Tyler began to wander the halls, searching for those guards. It didn't take long to find them.

The two armed men—one of them th'Maran, both wearing Army uniforms—stood before an open doorway halfway down one of the hallways. They were speaking with someone inside.

As Tyler watched from around the corner, the two finished their conversation and drew back into the hallway. The barrier slid shut. The two men took up their posts before the door, talking quietly.

Tyler studied them for a moment, planning his next move.

There was sure to be remote-monitored sensing equipment hidden somewhere in the hallway; he'd have to take care of that first. He removed the flat electronic jamming device from his pocket, pressed the button that activated it, and then slid his hand around the corner and pressed the device against the wall. It clung there, hopefully doing the job Gaunis's man promised.

Tyler returned his attention to the two guards. He had to take out the th'Maran first to prevent him from calling for help with his mind, but his companion was closer to Tyler, blocking a clean shot. Tyler decided to try to get to the far side of the hallway. He adjusted the jacket he carried slung over one shoulder to position the pocket containing the needle gun within easy reach of his free hand, stepped around the corner. and started toward the two guards.

He tried to keep his mind calm and clear as he approached, lest the th'Maran sense anything out of the ordinary. He gave the two an acknowledging nod as he drew even with them, but as he stepped past the th'Maran, he felt a touch on his mind and caught a movement out of the corner of his eye.

The th'Maran had raised a hand to touch his partner's arm. His free hand moved toward the gun at his side.

Tyler reacted instantly.

He drew the needler, spun to face the two guards, and fired three times in rapid succession, sending the first shot into the th'Maran, the other two into his brawny companion. The two guards slid silently to the floor.

Tyler listened hard for any indication of alarms. All was still. Apparently neither the th'Maran guard nor the three brief pops of the needler had attracted attention.

With a final scan of the corridor, Tyler stepped up to the door. He could sense the presence of the th'Maran control mechanism, his six-month stay on Marasyn having accustomed him to the feel and use—however covert—of the psi-controlled devices. He concentrated and willed the door open.

Inside, the room was dark, with a dim light showing through an opening on the back wall. There was a hint of movement beyond the opening, and then a quiet, female voice called out, the words tinged lightly with a th'Maran accent.

"Osten? Is that you?"

Tyler drew an effelin gas grenade from his pocket, pressed the arming stud, and tossed it through the opening.

A young th'Maran woman stumbled into sight a moment later, gasping, her silver eyes wide with terror as she tried to use th'Maran abilities that were no longer there.

She gazed across the room as she started to collapse.

"Tyler!" she gasped, and then reached for support from a chair as her legs gave out.

"Hello, Saunorel." He shot her with the needler.

Quickly, Tyler dragged the bodies of the guards into the room. A quick glance into the corridor assured him he had not been discovered. He closed the door, and crossed to the chamber from which Saunorel had emerged.

A single unconscious baby lay in the center of a large bed. Tyler gave the rest of the room a quick perusal. There were supposed to be two children, but except for the presence of two cribs, he could find no sign of the other. He cursed under his breath as a more thorough search of the apartment revealed no indication of the whereabouts of the second child.

During Tyler's planning of this job, he had considered the possibility that the children might not be in their parents' quarters when he arrived, but he had never thought the children might not be together when he located them.

He thought fast. Time was running out; his hold on the soldier in the vehicle pool was tentative at best, and someone was bound to notice the two missing guards soon. Gaunis would have to settle for a single child.

Returning to the bed, Tyler took out his empty pack, opened it, placed the child inside, and sealed it.

He left the room with the pack slung over one shoulder, Konner's uniform jacket draped over it.

The soldier at the guard post was alone when Tyler approached this time. He put an expression of ill-concealed anguish on his face as he approached the man.

The guard glanced back at Tyler and gave a concerned frown.

"Bad news?" he asked.

Tyler nodded and allowed some of his imaginary pain to show in his eyes.

The guard started to reply, but then his gaze landed on the pack Tyler carried.

Tyler placed a hand on it. "My brother's—personal belongings," he said. "From his quarters."

"I'm sorry," the guard said, his voice full of honest concern.

With a silent nod, Tyler stepped past him. His hand rested on the precious contents of the pack.

He retrieved his gun from Konner's quarters and made it back to the base's vehicle pool without incident. As he approached the vehicles, he caught the eye of the young soldier manning the pool and pointed to the car he came in. The soldier studied him, a slight frown on his face, but he nodded.

Almost unwilling to believe his good fortune, Tyler climbed into the car, set his pack on the passenger seat, and started the engine. As he eased the vehicle out of line with the others, the soldier continued to watch him suspiciously. Tyler gave him a smile and a wave, hoping to ease the man's doubts. Instead, the young man stood and stepped toward the car.

Tyler braked to a stop and watched him approach. Finally, he caught the youth's troubled gaze.

Tyler held his eyes as he stepped up to the car and leaned toward the open window.

"Sergeant, I—" the soldier began.

Tyler grabbed his wrist. "Remember what you said." Tyler stared deep into the man's eyes to exert his full will. "I can just take the car. No check-out required "

The soldier fought Tyler—both physically and mentally—but then he calmed. His expression relaxed as Tyler restored the control he had established earlier.

The young man nodded slowly. "No check-out required."

Tyler returned his nod. "Go back to your station." He released his hold on the man's wrist, gave him a final burst of reassurance with his mind, pulled away, and swung the car toward the exit.

He glanced back once to assure himself the soldier had obeyed his command, and then he was in the lighted tunnel that led out of the mountain, and so close to success he had to remind himself to keep the car's speed down lest the guards at the entrance suspect something. Then they were behind him, too, and there was nothing to do but get to Gaunis's man and get the hell off-planet, something he had been dreaming of for close to a year.

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