Craig looked from the dead guard to the knife. He could feel the hair along the back of his neck rising.
As if reading his thoughts, Vydys laughed again—low, this time; taunting. "Did you think to find me defenseless, Earthman? Me, Vydys of Cadilek?" She swayed close against him. "You have daring, warrior! That is why I came with you; not out of fear."
Craig pushed past her. "Come on, then—before Zenaor's men surprise us." Bending, he dragged the dead guard up by the harness.
Vydys' face was a mask, the dark eyes unfathomable. She turned and pulled back the door's handle.
The portal swung open. Wordless, Craig followed her into the room beyond, dragging the corpse with him.
A man's quarters, these—bleak, severe, without ostentation. Here no mirror walls threw back the glint of polished chromoid. The raaltex carpeting of the chambers above in this room was replaced with ostran tile and schalagat. Dark leathers gleamed dully against the flat contrast of iron-grey duroid.
Cat-like, slim Vydys tiptoed to the sleeping chamber's entry. Her breath hissed in the stillness as she looked in.
Taut-nerved, Craig lowered the dead guard to the floor.
But already Vydys was back beside him, slim hand outthrust. "My knife!" It was a command.
Craig stepped past her, not answering. In his turn, he peered through the arch into the other chamber.