ention of leaving as I had of calling the law。 I was out the door long before any of them had made their minds up as to just what was going on。
Of course I couldn't run and draw any attention to myself。 Getting back to the hotel at a fast walk was the best I could do； but I was sweating all over from the tension。 Inside the room the first thing I saw was the container on the table； with the needle wrapped in cloth beside it。 My hands didn't shake； but they would have if I had let them。 This was a very close thing。
Collapsed in a chair afterwards I held up the jar and saw that there was less than a millimeter of juice left。 The very next thing on the agenda was the necessity of laying in a supply of the stuff。 I could remember the formula clearly and would have no trouble rebuilding it。 Of course there would be no drug suppliers open at this time of night； but that made things a lot easier。 There is a law of history that says weapons were invented before money。 In my suitcase was a recoilless 。75 that could get me more of the galaxy's goods than all of the money in existence。
That was my mistake。 Some nagging worry gnawed me then but I ignored it。 The tension and then the relief after getting the shot had me all loosened up。 On top of that was the need to hurry； the limited time I had to find what I needed and get it back to the hotel room。 My thoughts were on the job and how best to do it as I unlocked the suitcase and reached for my gun lying right there on top of the clothes。 At this point the thin voice in my memory was screaming inaudibly to me； but this only made me reach faster for the gun。 Something was badly wrong and this was the thing that would fix it。 As I grabbed the butt the memory broke through 。 。 。 just a little bit too slow。
Dropping the gun I dived for the door； too late by far。 Behind me I heard a pop as the sleep…gas grenade I had put under the gun let go。 Even as I fell forward into darkness I wondered how I could ever have possibly done such a stupid thing as that 。 。 。
Chapter 14
ing out of the gas； my first feeling was one of regret。 It is a truism that the workings of the mind are a source of constant astonishment。 The effects of my devil's brew had worn off。 There was nothing wrong with my memory； now that the posthypnotic blocks I had put on it had been removed。 All too vividly I could recall the details of my interlude of madness。 Though I sickened at the things I had thought and done； I simultaneously felt a twinge of regret that could not be abolished。 There had been terrible freedom in standing so alone that even the lives of other men meant less than nothing。 Undoubtedly a warped sensation； but still a tremendously attractive one。 Like taking drugs。 Even while detesting the thought I felt the desire for more of the same。
In spite of my twelve hours of forced sleep I was exhausted。 It took all of my energy to drag over to the bed and collapse on it。 Foresight had provided a bottle of stimulating spirits and I poured a glassful。 Sipping at this I tried to put my mental house in order； not a very easy task。 I have read many times about the cesspool of dark desires that lies in our subconscious minds； but this was the first time I had ever had mine stirred up。 It was quite revealing to examine some of the things that had floated to the surface。
My attitude towards Angelina needed a good looking at。 The most important fact I had to face was the strong attraction I felt for her。 Love？ Put any name to it you wantI suppose love will do as well as any； though this was no throbbing adolescent passion。 I wasn't blind to her faults； in fact I rather detested them now that I knew her murderously amoral existence had an echo in my own mind。 But logic and convictions have very little to do with emotions。 Hating this side of her didn't remove the attraction of a personality so similar to my own。 I echoed my psychotic self's attitudewhat a team we might have made！ This was of course impossible； but that didn't stop me from wanting it。 Love and hate are reputed to be very close and in my case they were certainly rubbing shoulders。 And the whole confused business wasn't helped in the slightest by the fact that Angelina was so damnably attractive。 I took a long drag at my drink。
Finding her should be easy now。 The carelessness with which I took this for granted was a little shocking。 I had gained no new information while mentally aberrant。 Just a great chunk of insight into the tortured grooves that my Angelina's mind trundled along。 There could be no doubt that raw power was what she desired。 This couldn't be obtained through influencing the king； I saw this now。 Violence was the way； a power putsch； perhaps assassination； certainly revolution and turmoil of some kind。 This had been the pattern in the bad old days on Freibur when sovereignty had been the prize of battle。 Any of the nobility could be crowned； and whenever the old king's grip weakened it was a cue for a power struggle that would produce the new monarch。 Of course that sort of thing had stopped as soon as the societies specialists from the League worked their little tricks。
The old days were on the way backthat was clear。 Angelina was going to see this world bathed in blood and death to satisfy her own ambition。 She was out there nowsomewheregrooming the man for the job。 One of the counts； still very important in the semi…feudal economy； was having his ego inflated and guided by a new power behind the throne。 This is the pattern Angelina had used before； and would be sure to use again。 There could be no doubt。
Only one small factor was missing。 Who was the man？
My dive into the depths of self…analysis had left a definitely unwholesome taste in my mouth that no amount of liquor could wash away。 What I needed was a little touch of action to tone up my drooping nerve aids and accelerate my sluggish blood。 Tracking down Angelina's front man would be just the charge my battery needed。 Merely thinking about it helped； and it was with eagerness that I searched the newspaper for the Court News column。 There was a Grand Ball just two days distant； the perfect cover for this operation。
For these two days I was kept busy on the many small tasks that put the polish of perfection on a job like this。 Any boob can crash a party； in fact usually does； since that is all one seems to meet at this kind of affair。 It takes a unique talent like mine to construct a cover personality that is unshakeable。 Research supplied me with a homeland； a distant province poor in everything except a thick dialect that provided the base for most Freibur jokes。 Because of these inherent handicaps the populace of Misteldross was noted for its pugnacity and general bullheadedness。 There were minor nobility there who no one took much notice of； or kept any records about； enabling me to adopt the cover of Grav Bent Diebstall。 The family name meant either bandit or tax…gatherer in the local dialect； which gives you an idea of the kind of economy they had had； as well as the source of the family title。 A military tailor cut me a dress uniform and while I was being fined I memorized great chunks of the family history to bore people with。 I saw where I could be the life of any party。
Another thing I did was to send off a thick wad of money to the maimed bartender； who was now working with the handicap of having his arm in a cast。 He really had short…changed me； but his suffering was entirely out of proportion to this minor crime。 My anonymous gift was strictly conscience money and I felt much better after having done it。
A moonlight visit to the royal printers supplied an invitation to the party。 My uniform fitted like a sausage skin； my boots gleamed enthusiastically and I was one of the first guests to arrive since the royal table had a tremendous reputation and work had increased my appetite。 I crashed and clattered wonderfully when I bowed to the Kingspurs and sword； they go all the way with the archaic nonsense on Freiburand looked at him closely while he mumbled something inaudible。 His eyes were glassy and unfocused and I realized there was some truth in the rumor that he always got stoned