Then the face was gone.

Dechan was alone, but not for long. A trio of Home Guard troopers came pelting along the avenue. One saw Dechan and covered him with a rifle while calling for him to stand still. Dechan didn't move.

"That's not him," a man wearing sergeant's stripes said as he knocked the first trooper's barrel up. "Our man's wearing black."

"He coulda changed," the trooper whined.

"Not enough time." The sergeant turned to Dechan and squinted at him. "Say, citizen, haven't I seen you around?"

"Name's Dechan Fraser."

"Don't sound familiar. You haven't seen anybody lurking about, have you?"

"I saw a jogger in a dark suit down by the lake. I thought it was early for PE, but you know how fanatical some people are."

"That's gotta be him," the first trooper shouted and started off at a run. The other two guardsmen followed. As he disappeared into the trees, the sergeant shouted back, "Be a good citizen and report to the guard station at the Hall. Tell them what you saw."

Dechan thought about ignoring the sergeant's order, but he realized that the sergeant had his name. If he checked up and Dechan hadn't reported, it could raise suspicions that he had been a party to the fugitive's escape. Reluctantly, Dechan walked to the guard station. The guard captain wore the stylized wolf's-head favored by partisans of the new order. Though he seemed not to have much use for Dechan's circumstantial evidence, he spent a long time establishing it. During that time, Dechan thought about what Michi had said. Every time he went over the possible outcomes, he liked them less. He wanted to be away from Wolf Hall, but running out before the captain dismissed him wouldn't help anyone.

While Dechan waited for dismissal, Hamilton Atwyl exited the elevator bank. On his way across the lobby, he happened to glance at the guard station. Seeing Dechan, his face opened into a smile.

"Dechan? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Ham."

Dechan made his remark with a jocular tone, but it evoked a guarded look in Atwyl's eyes. "You're not under arrest, are you?"

With a shake of his head, Dechan said, "Just reporting a prowler."

"A prowler?" Atwyl frowned, then looked thoughtful. When he spoke, his voice was pitched so that anyone nearby would have no trouble hearing his words. "It's been a long time since we've talked. If you've got a few, I'll pop for the brew."

It was obviously an invitation, and one meant to be seen as nonpolitical. Under the circumstances, Dechan suspected that it was anything but. Still undecided about how to handle the burden Michi had placed on him, he realized that he knew too little of what was happening. Ham was an old friend, and high in the Dragoon command structure. At the very least, Dechan might get a better sense of the power balance. "A few. If I'm not home by dawn, Jenette'll wonder what happened."

"Wouldn't want to cause trouble between you two. You stuck together through a hell of a lot."

Atwyl laid his arm around Dechan's shoulders and started to lead him into the Hall. When the guard captain objected, Atwyl said, "That's all right, Captain. Mr. Fraser's a veteran. I'll vouch for him."

"You'll sign his pass?"

"Yes, I'll sign his pass." Atwyl scribbled his name on the datapad the officer thrust at him, then waited with obvious impatience while the captain processed a visitor's badge for Dechan. Wearing the plastic ID tag, Dechan allowed Atwyl to take him to the cafeteria. It was almost deserted and, once they had their beers, Atwyl selected a table well away from any of the other late-night customers.

Atwyl abandoned any pretense at joviality as soon as they were seated. "So where do you stand on the succession?"

"I'm out of the Dragoons, Ham. Remember?"

"Once a Dragoon, always a Dragoon."

"Somebody already fed me that line tonight, Ham."

"A prowler, maybe?"

"You know about that?"

"Don't know nothing, but I was hoping you'd tell me."

"There's a plot to kill Wolf."

Atwyl sat back in his seat, his beer bottle tilting in his slack hand and coming precariously close to spilling. "You're sure about this?"

"Fellow who mentioned it seemed to be very sure."

"You involved?"

"Would I be talking to you if I was?"

Atwyl laughed softly, bitterly. "I don't know anymore. There are too many two-faces for this old war-horse." He took a hit from his bottle. "When?"

"Before morning."

"That doesn't leave much time. Will you come with me to Carmody? Tell him what you know?"

"I don't know much."

"We'll need everything we can get. Will you help? For old times' sake?"

Heat burned under Dechan's skin. "I'll talk to Carmody. "

* * *

"I didn't think they'd go that far," Carmody said when they told him. Significantly, he believed Dechan's unsupported statement. "But it all falls into place. That's why they sent the Home Guard out on maneuvers. Wanted me to oversee the whole thing, too."

"There's still a platoon in barracks besides the regular security forces, isn't there?"

Carmody nodded. "But Elson's got a Point of Elementals covering Wolf's place. They're supposed to be security against riots, but they're a guard. They won't let us in."

"Are they armored?"

"No. Even for him, that would be too blatant just now."

"Then we don't have to ask," Atwyl said. "Five Elementals won't stand up against a whole platoon."

"Then what, Ham? What do we do when we're inside?"

"We get Wolf out."

"It sounds so simple, but it isn't. Where would he go?"

Dechan looked at the clock. "If you're going to do something, you'd better do it soon."

"You're right. We'll have to decide what happens next after we make sure there is a next. Maybe Jaime'll have some ideas."

* * *

The night was fading into the half-light of predawn when the heavy hovervan whirred down the street toward the Wolf family compound. It might have been a transport truck carrying in foodstuffs from the surrounding countryside to fill the stalls of the fresh-food markets, but it wasn't. Better light would have revealed that its corporate markings were hastily painted and made its military lines readily apparent.

Dechan sat in the hovertruck's cab along with a pimple-faced kid who was supposed to be the best hover jockey in the Home Guard. Atwyl was elsewhere, doing things that were necessary if this scheme was to succeed. Through his earpiece, Dechan could hear the growling of the truck in which Colonel Carmody rode. The platoon of motorized infantry was approaching the Wolf family compound. Dechan popped the plug for a moment, then replaced it after confirming that it was the trucks' snarling engines he heard echoing in the predawn streets.

Carmody was with his platoon of Home Guard. He had to be; no one else could have gotten them out of barracks and persuaded them to face the Elementals guarding the Wolf compound. As it was, Dechan could tell by the colonel's haranguing that some of them were hanging back by the transports. The colonel's arguments shifted to a different sort when the leader of the Elementals confronted him.

Dechan turned on the hovervan's video deck and fumbled with the controls until he had it tuned to the channel from Carmody's truck. They had arranged that the video pickup would cover the gate area so that Dechan could observe as well as listen in to what was happening. He could see Carmody arguing with the Elemental leader. Suddenly, the colonel stopped talking and cocked his head to one side. Then he looked over his shoulder toward the center of the city.