VII
The voice of Tamis Ravitz came softly, insistently through the steaming prison twilight. "Joel. Joel!"
He swung away from the window through which he'd been staring at the streams of pedestrians outside. "Yes?"
The Ganelon girl lowered her voice. "I've been in communication with my people...."
"What?" Joel couldn't believe his ears. For two days the Unfit had been locked in the prison. All of them in a single barracks-like room. The girl hadn't been out of his sight. "How the devil...."
She smiled, tapped her forehead with a slim forefinger.
"Telepathy?"
She nodded.
Joel's green eyes narrowed. Tamis never failed to astonish him. The suffocating heat didn't bother her in the least.