"Sit still and wait."
Dorlup emptied his glass of vodka, reached over to the table and tremblingly poured another.
Seconds later the doorbell rang.
He was tall, broad of shoulder, wore a snap-brim hat and a concealed weapon which nevertheless bulged on his hip. He showed his credentials. "I am from Army Intelligence," he announced. "The Chief of Staff's Office instructed me personally to escort you to a meeting with a Comrade Ruscar."
"Chief of Staff," said Dorlup. "That would be Chenkov himself. You're a big fish, Barwan."
Tedor wondered if there could be any truth in all that Dorlup had said. Looking at Dorlup now, he realized the man bordered on hysteria, and even if he were indeed well-meaning, he could still have misinterpreted everything. Unlikely—but no less likely than the accusations Dorlup had made against Mulid Ruscar. Perhaps the Intelligence Agent could inadvertently shed light on the entire situation.
Tedor yawned. "I am tired. I think I have changed my mind. Yes, I'd rather sleep. You tell the Chief of Staff to tell Ruscar I won't see him today, after all."
"But Comrade, I was sent to get you."
"Fine, you're a good man. I'm sending you back without me. Care for a drink before you leave?"