"I couldn't say. She doesn't seem to have a handle. A touch of vanity, but I don't see how to get hold of it. Maybe through her drive to dominate. By getting her to overextend herself. I don't know. She's cautious. And smart. Like when she sucked the Rebel in at Charm. Killed three birds with one stone. Not only did she eliminate the Rebel; she exposed the unreliable among the Taken and squashed the Dominator's attempt to use them to get free."

"What about him?"

"He isn't a problem. He's probably more vulnerable than the Lady, though. He don't seem to think. He's like a bull. So damned strong that's all he needs. Oh, a little guile, like at Juniper, but mostly just the hammer-strokes type."

Tracker nodded thoughtfully. "Could be something to what you say."

Chapter Twenty-Five:
THE BARROWLAND

Corbie miscalculated. He forgot that others beside Case were interested in his fate.

When he failed to show for work various places, people came looking for him. They pounded on doors, tapped on windows, and got no response. One tried the door. It was locked. Now there was genuine concern.

Some argued for kicking a break-in up the chain of command, others for moving now. The latter view prevailed. They broke the lock and spread out inside.

They found a place obsessive in its neatness, spartan in its furnishings. The first man upstairs yelped, "Here he is. He's had a stroke or something."

The pack crowded into the little upstairs room. Corbie sat at a table on which lay an oilskin packet and a book. "A book!" someone said. "He was weirder than we thought."

A man touched Corbie's throat, felt a feeble pulse, noted that Corbie was taking shallow breaths spaced far more widely than those of a man sleeping. "Guess he did have a stroke. Like he was sitting here reading and it hit him."

"Had an uncle went like that," someone said. "When I was a kid. Telling us a story and just went white and keeled over."

"He's still alive. We better do something. Maybe he'll be all right."

A big rush downstairs, men tumbling over men.

Case heard when the group rushed into headquarters. He was on duty. The news put him in a quandary. He had promised Corbie… But he could not run off.

Sweet's personal interest got the news bucked up the ladder fast. The Colonel came out of his office. He noted Case looking stricken. "You heard. Come along. Let's have a look. You men. Find the barber. Find the vet."

Made you reflect on the value of men when the army provided a vet but not a physician.

The day had begun auspiciously, with a clear sky. That was rare. Now it was cloudy. A few raindrops fell, spotting the wooden walks. As Case followed Sweet, and a dozen men followed him, he barely noted the Colonel's remarks about necessary improvements.