Jedon Onomondo had been searched thoroughly, and his clothing had been completely changed. He was wiping the dampness of perspiration from his blue, four-fingered hands with a handkerchief when I walked in.
"How is he, Mr. Cameron?" he asked.
"He'll be all right for a while," I told him. "Are you ready to take a look at him?"
"Any time."
"Come along, then."
I led him down the corridor to a drop tube, and we went down to the door of the room where Holdreth Khain lay on a couch with two guards watching him. They had their instructions.
"He's in there," I told the Damakoi. I gestured at the door. "Now, don't get violent when you see him—if he's the man we want. I know you Damakoi are likely to lose your temper at the sight of an enemy, but we've got guards in there to stop you."
Jedon Onomondo's blue skin seemed to pale a little, but he said nothing. He nodded in agreement.
I opened the door. The Damakoi went in first, and I followed him, staying well behind.