"No," he admitted.
"Fair enough," she said. "That's all I ask."
She threw a switch on the back of the chair. The bands loosened. Joel stood up, rubbing his throat.
Priscilla shot him an oblique glance, said dryly, "Don't misunderstand me. I need protection. Nothing else."
Turning abruptly she entered the apartment, beckoned for him to follow. She touched a hidden plate in the floor with her toe. Joel saw a section of the mirror paneled wall slide aside revealing a shallow passage beyond.
"This is where you're to stay. So that you can watch the apartment at all times."
Joel entered the passage, gave a low whistle of surprise. It ran all around the salon behind the mirrors. He could see the room through them as if they were the clearest plate glass.
Security glass, he realized. It had been bombarded with chromium so that from one side it acted as a mirror. But from the other it was transparent.
"Who built this?"
"The last governor. He was terrified of assassination. The palace is a rat-run of secret passages and lifts, concealed televisors, electronic eyes and alarms."