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Young with this because his SLO recruitment and training was carried on in the mad-dog Domes of
Titan.
We did succeed in penetrating the SLO just once and, with the hindsight which I detest, I realize
that I should have anticipated the disaster. I sent one of our best and toughest agents file name:
 Terrier  to the Brisbane Dome where he fought, savaged, and killed his way into attention and
recruitment. Terrier could be ruthless when the mission required it.
One of the estimates of terrorist capability is what they call  The Black Room. The candidate is
stripped bareass naked to prevent him from taking notes and sent into a pitch-dark room equipped with
a flashlight. It s a simulation of an ordinary furnished living room and he s given five minutes to examine it
and itemize everything in it.
When he comes out, his conscious memory is tested; how many chairs, pictures, tables, lamps,
windows, etc. This is what he was told to remember. Then his unconscious memory is checked; were the
chairs covered, what fabrics, were there playing cards on the table, what suits were showing, what
scenes were depicted in the pictures, describe the lampshades, curtains, all the details he was not told to
remember.
Terrier went in, spent his five minutes itemizing, came out and was instantly murdered. Damn
Young! The Black Room was flooded with black light, and the absorption scars of the invisible
TerraGardai I.D. tattoo on his skin showed unmistakably in the scanners. Damn me! I should have
anticipated. I only learned the facts much later. Back then all I knew was that our best op had
disappeared, spurlos verschwinden, and I was reduced to settling for surveillance of Young on Terra,
and he came up with another conjuring trick.
We were monitoring his moves and he took that for granted. We took his  take for granted. He
took our  take of his  take for granted, and so ad infinitum; that s the business. Our basic was that if
he made a move to leave Terra we d stop him on some pretext or other. He didn t know that for sure,
but he d have done the same thing on Triton, so he was prepared for the possibility in New York.
I d taken over a top-floor apartment across the road from the university Exobiology building and
installed a Garda op, file name:  Granny Moses. She kept watch on his goings and comings and notified
H.Q. by shortwave so that we didn t waste op time by having them hang around the building waiting for
him to come out. Contrary to popular fiction, we handle more missions than one at a time. I conduct an
orchestra in which everyone doubles and triples on instruments.
The Manchu was no fool, and his sensitive antenna warned him about Granny. Of course he didn t
let on; he treated her the same way an amused neighbor would treat a nosy old woman who was always
peeking out the window. He started by making faces at her, then smiling, then waving friendly-like. I d
instructed Granny to play it like a good-natured busybody, so she responded the same way. Eventually
they were carrying on short conversations with gestures.
Then, this morning, the unheard-of happened. Tomas appeared at the Exo building at his usual hour
and Granny reported that he was in and would probably remain for a few hours, so his tail could take off,
again as usual. But instead of remaining in the depths, playing exobio with his pet computer, the Manchu
appeared in the window opposite Granny s on the tenth floor, and gave her a tragic wave. Granny waved
back sadly too.
 It s a rotten world, he told her in sign language and she gestured back the same thing, wondering
what the hell he was up to now. She found out. He opened the window, threw her a goodbye kiss, and
jumped.
She saw him fall, hollered to H.Q. via shortwave, and tore downstairs to the street just as three
other ops drove up like three screaming emergency squads. Granny Moses stared at the street. They
stared at the street. Then they stared at each other. There was no body. There was nothing. A crowd
had gathered, of course, and by the time they d fought through and into the Exobiology building, the
Manchu was gone.
 Yes, he d done the unheard-of, long-range hypnosis. All that waving and smiling and gestured
conversation back and forth had set Granny up for one moment of long-distance illusion. He d slipped up
to the roof and away on a silent chopper during the chaotic confusion down on the street. He was a
dangerously resourceful adversary and, quite frankly, he outclassed me.
"
"
"
Now back to the Manchu duke and Rogue Winter in the Cathay Dome on Triton. What followed that
initial confrontation on the cellar steps of the pavilion was appalling. Three armed guards, not in
ceremonial dress but in ominous black, slipped past Tomas and Rogue and silently gunned down every
Jink in the cellar with their handlasers. They dropped the severed hand with its clutch of Meta nodules
into one of the inert helium coffers steaming alongside the long tea chest, turned and waited for further
orders.
Ta-mo Yung-kung nodded, motioned, seized Winter s arm and took him up to the lopsided square
where another butchery had taken place. The duke s black squad had lasered the pavilion guards and [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]