"Mardlin?"
There was no answer. Herndon said, "I know you're in there, jackal. The game's all over. You might as well open the door and let me in."
A needle came whistling through the door, embedded itself against the opposite wall after missing Herndon's head by inches. Herndon stepped out of range and glanced down at the object in his hand.
It was the master-control for the neuronic network installed in Mardlin's body. It was quite carefully gradated; shifting the main switch to six would leave the Vonnimooro in no condition to fire a gun. Thoughtfully Herndon nudged the indicator up through the degrees of pain to six and left it there.
He heard a thud within.
Putting his shoulder to the door, he cracked it open with one quick heave. He stepped inside. Mardlin lay sprawled in the middle of the floor, writhing in pain. Near him, but beyond his reach, lay the needler he had dropped.
A suitcase sat open and half-filled on the bed. He had evidently intended an immediate getaway.
"Shut ... that ... thing ... off ..." Mardlin muttered through pain-twisted lips.
"First some information," Herndon said cheerfully. "I just had a talk with Brennt. He says you've been doing some highly improper things with our starstones. Is this true?"
Mardlin quivered on the floor but said nothing. Herndon raised the control a quarter of a notch, intensifying the pain but not yet bringing it to the killing range.