While his followers helped the old man into his robes, the young doctor drew Taen aside.
"Take a robe from one of these men so that you will not be recognized. You have said you understood these people, how to handle them. Now is your chance to show me, for our lives, yours included, depend on it. All you have to do is plant the proper suggestions in their minds. They will force you to do the rest." He handed Taen a satchel of surgical tools and a small tubular freezer, and he explained in detailed steps what he had in mind.
Finally Taen nodded, his eyes fierce with excitement. "I understand, sire. There are moments when men will agree to anything."
"Let him suggest it himself. Just plant the thought there."
Taen patted the satchel and followed the motley crowd of mountain men out into the morning.
Pacing the empty room, Jeff lit another cigarette, threw it away and lit another. Maybe he should have gone himself? But he would have been recognized. Then it would be the Security Guards—
"Somebody shot a hole in my wall," a small voice announced.
Jeff surprised himself with laughter. It seemed like everybody was out to get them.
"Shall I plug it with my finger, dimples?"
She bluffed as if to spill the coffee on him.