"My prosthetic," Thornwald said. "I lost my arm in a space battle."
"And where's the transmitter, then?"
"It's concealed in the arm," Thornwald said.
Henderson frowned. "In the arm? How?"
"Surgically implanted," said Thornwald. "Take a look, if you don't believe me."
"Give me that arm," said Henderson.
The guard fished the prosthetic reluctantly from the trunk, and, handling it with the utmost delicacy, carried it over to Henderson. The Governor took the arm, examined it curiously, flexed the curled fingers.
"Where's the transmitter?" he asked.
Beads of perspiration sprang out on Thornwald's forehead. His neural network leaped out, made contact with the nerve-mesh of the arm. He was just five feet away from Henderson. That was close enough to activate the prosthetic.
Now! he thought.