The stair well was deserted, silent.
"I smell roses," said Mia.
Cosmo thought he detected a glint of triumph in the slave breeder's eyes. "Up the steps," he said grimly. "At the first sign of treachery, Bemmelman, I'm pulling the trigger."
They reached the telecast room without opposition. It was a small square chamber banked with control panels. An opaque screen was built into the left wall. There was only one chair.
Cosmo closed the door, motioned Mia and the Blue Venus to one side. "Now, Bemmelman, call your head overseer; have him shut down the force screens."
The red-faced planter laughed shortly, said: "No sir." He had regained his composure. "No sir, you won't kill me. You'd be throwing away your only chance to stay alive. The force screen stays up."
"That's what I thought you'd say." Cosmo slipped the dart gun in his pocket. His eyes became hard green stones. "What about the Ormoo's feeding ground? Why do you want to know where they eat?"
"That's my secret." A sullen note crept into Bemmelman's manner.
"You don't want me to mess you up, do you, Bemmelman?" Cosmo asked softly.
The planter flinched, but didn't answer.