The estate was loaded with surrogates, he knew that. A caravan—even a single man—would find it impossible to either enter or leave without the knowledge and consent of the Master Protector. He smiled.
He could just visualize Kio Barra letting anyone out with proof of his activities. The smile faded.
A distant projection? There were those surrogates again. They were broad tuned and he knew it. They’d flare like a field of beacons.
Of course, he could get out a flash appeal and it would be heard. He grinned.
Now, there was a nice way to commit suicide. There’d be no time for help to arrive, he was sure of that. And no shield would stand up under that heavy-duty distorter, even if Barra could only summon a minimum of power to operate it. He shook his head, looking around the room.
Drivers were beginning to stir and get to their feet. Naran looked at the flunky.
“Better get with it, Bintar,” he said. “Going to be a bunch of hungry men around you in a couple of minutes.”
“Yeah.” The man started out the door, yawning. “Got to eat, if we
don’t do anything else.” He climbed down the ladder.
Naran glanced at the drivers.