A check with Commander Parquit had produced similar action. “Do whatever Korpt says. I’ll sign the orders later—whenever. I’m busy now. Oh, and make certain, Lieutenant, that they stay on board their craft . . . I assume they came by hoveraft?”

“Yes, Excellency.”

“I don’t want them wandering around. They sound like a typical tourist bunch, and so I don’t expect otherwise from them. But if one is found strolling about loose, front canines will be lost. Understand?”

Tivven understood.

He looked up at the group, tired.

“You are hereby confined to your ship until further notice . . .”

“Just who do you think you are, ordering us around, mister luggage-covers?” piped the Tolian. His whiskers bristled angrily. “Such an insulting attitude is here perpetrated! By a scaly underling, no less, who . . .!”

“ . . . where you will be placed under guard. You are not to leave the vessel under any circumstances under penalty of a swift death,” Tivven concluded doggedly. He gestured to the guard at the door.

“Escort them back to their vessel, sergeant, and post guard on it. They are not to depart until ordered. If ordered.”

The sergeant, who had played this game before, saluted snappily—he was a fifteen-year veteran of this egg-forsaken post. He gestured towards the door with his stun-gun.

Tivven could hear the shrill voice of the Terran female echoing back up the corridor long after the three had departed. Swiveling in his chair, he activated the autolog and commenced dictating the ponderous official report. He wondered if anyone ever read the things. He doubted it. This particular time he would be right. But not for the reasons he suspected.

The guard, like all guards since the beginning of time assigned to boring, monotonous, unrelieved, insipid night duty when most sensible beings were asleep, was wishing he was. Perhaps the wishes were effective. More likely it was just coincidence. Certainly, if he’d been questioned about it later, it wasn’t likely he’d recall the small sting at the back of his neck immediately prior to his lapsing into a period of extended sleep.

He probably would have wished to observe the being responsible for inviting Morpheus. Likely, though, he would have argued the method.

Kitten approached quietly after spotting the all-well signal from Porsupah. The Tolian stood by the body, searching the surrounding darkness. She ran lightly over to him. Her goggles picked up and intensified the starlight to the point where it seemed bright as day. Porsupah didn’t wear them. He didn’t need any.

She joined him in scanning the grounds, paying special attention to the three big crates stacked on the pier. That was one of their prearranged ambush points. She bent over the inert reptile, felt for its pulse. The tiny puncture made by the drug-carrying dart had already closed. There was practically no blood. After a moment’s consideration she put a second dart next to the first, just to the left of the armored spine.