The other prisoners were sprawled about the floor, many of them stark naked. Clothes of any kind were a torment. The slightest exertion brought fountains of sweat pouring from the skin. But Tamis wasn't even perspiring.
She said, "I've made my report. I've been given permission to tell you certain facts. Is there anything you particularly want to know?"
Joel scratched the bristles on his chin, frowned. "How is it," he asked finally, "that the Ganelons have never been discovered?"
An impish grin crossed her smooth elfin features. "Professor Liedl was almost right."
"Camouflage?"
"Yes. Mental camouflage. Is anyone watching?"
Joel glanced about swiftly. "No."
Tamis put her hand to her throat, unzipped the coveralls. With a sinuous movement, she freed her shoulders. The baggy garment fell about her ankles. She stepped out of them—and disappeared.
Literally!
It took Joel a full moment for the realization to penetrate. He'd caught one arresting glimpse of Tamis, nude like a slim marble statue. Then she'd disappeared into the hot, fertile smelling air like a grain of sugar in a glass of water.