Ridzik sank back in his chair. Incredible! This is perfect!He smiled like a cat with a belly full of milk. Elizabeth Jordan Liao leaves her husband and joins forces with me. That gives me even more political pull in Davion's occupied areas. I could easily force more concessions from him because Elizabeth's influence could make holding his worlds a nightmare.

Suspicion ripped a gash through his happiness, but he shook it off. Theverigraph proves she wrote the note. The holographic image is seared into the paper's coating while being processed.

Prying the layers apart to substitute messages destroys the original. You cannot forge one of these.He glanced at the image again. No matter how good a dummy or double, theverigraph would show it up to be false. I know those lips and that throat too well to be deceived. She is here. I will make her my consort, in one deft stroke stabbing deep into Maximilian's heart and causing Prince Hanse Davion serious consternation. Then I will kill Davion's friend and kidnap his wife.

Ridzik picked up the magkey and instantly recognized the hotel's logo. Elizabeth, you always did have extravagant tastes.He smiled and slipped the keycard into the inside pocket of his jacket. First one conquest, then another. It is a pity, Ardan Sortek, that you will not be around to watch the finale of this puppet's revenge.

* * *

Having changed from his uniform into civilian clothes, Ridzik stood in front of the Hotel Percheron. Even the drizzling could not dampen his spirits. He recalled their last time together, on Terra during Hanse and Melissa's wedding celebration, and his grin widened. If tonight is but half as passionate, it will be a very warm welcome.

Always conscious of security, Ridzik had managed to learn that the key belonged to Room 1145. The guest registered to that room was a Ms. Beth Geordana. Not only was it a close match to her maiden name, but Ridzik recalled that she once mentioned, during a tender interlude, that she had covertly written poetry under that name.

Ridzik moved toward the hotel's side entrance, avoiding the bright lights of the main entryway. She had told him that the State Poetry Review had rejected her poems as being too forced and commercial. When they had further suggested she write for greeting cards, Elizabeth had these editors sent to Brazen Heart. "My dear Pavel, it was the best thing I could have done for them," she'd said. He recalled how the flickering firelight had caressed her throat as she explained her logic. "How could they possibly release their artistic potential without having suffered in their lives?"

Ridzik knew better than to love a woman like that, for an emotional tie with her would hobble him. He did not deny the sexual attraction, and there might even be some affection for one another, but it was their lust for power that drove them together. She will discard me as soon as she has what she wants from me, and I her. I will just have to make sure I strike first.

The room clerk needed no prompting to remember Ms. Geordana. He described her as being tall and slender, with an arrest-ingly beautiful face and long, silken red hair. Ridzik smiled because he knew she'd colored her hair to match the shade of his as a sign to him.

He entered the hotel unnoticed among a group of guests, then joined them in the elevator. He ignored their chatter, thankful that the eleventh floor came before he lost control and shot one man for seditious talk. Ridzik let the doors snap shut behind him, then forced his anger away. You cannot let that idiot spoil your evening. Find him tomorrow and have him killed, but tonight is for you and Elizabeth.

He rapped gently on the door, then slipped the magkey into the door's slot. As he waited for the lock to open, he suddenly recalled his first visit to a bordello when he was a raw recruit bound for the Academy. I was a gawky kid then, nervous and more afraid of the woman that I was of the ridicule I'd get from my comrades if I did not go through with it.He forced himself to smile confidently. That was long ago, the end of an era in my life.

The lock clicked open and he slipped into the nearly dark room. Candles, three on each of the twinned bedside tables, illuminated the wide canopied bed in their wavering glow. She stood beyond it, silhouetted in the moonlight before the window. The white light shone through her diaphanous gown, tantalizing and teasing him with an erotic outline of her slender body. Her hair, red only on the edges where the moon touched it, formed a black veil against her back.

Ridzik swallowed hard. He felt his desire for her stirring, and for a fleeting moment, he wondered if so noble a woman might not make him a suitable consort for life. He closed the door, then removed his coat and tossed it onto a chair. "I have come, Elizabeth."

She turned from the window, filling her right hand with the dark pistol that had been hidden on the sill. Before Ridzik could react, she raised it and fired one hissed shot. Ridzik felt something sharp sting him, then looked down at the silver syringe cartridge sticking in the upper left portion of his chest.

Before he could frame a question in his mind and give it voice, his legs collapsed. He landed on the floor with a heavy thump, overturning the chair where he'd laid his coat. He tried to scramble to his feet, but his body refused to take orders. What is happening to me?

The woman tangled her fingers in his hair and tipped back his head. She lay on the bed, hanging over the edge just enough to reach his head and let him see her ample cleavage. Her red hair flowed down toward the carpeted floor, veiling her face in shadow. "Well, if it isn't my old friend, Pavel Ridzik."

With her left hand, she pulled off her wig. The candles provided just enough pale light for Ridzik to recognize her. His jaw trembled as he tried to speak, but her predatory grin stole any desire to make himself heard. "Yes, Pavel, I am the one they sent to kill you six months ago. You escaped the bomb I left for you, which reflected badly upon me. I had to leave the service and start freelancing." She pursed her lips and shook her head. "That's such a nasty life for a nice girl like me. Wouldn't you agree."

She moved Ridzik's head up and down to make it nod in agreement. "Fortunately, my current employer is a woman with exquisite taste and the unusual ability of knowing what she wants and how to get it. In this case, she wants you dead.

"The drug I hit you with," she continued with clinical detachment, "has knocked your voluntary muscles out of whack. It's nice because it goes away without a trace after a dozen hours or so—not that you'll care. Even so, it should deaden the pain a bit."

She released his head, then slid from the bed and lifted him up. She pulled him onto the bed, rolled him onto his back, and crossed his forearms over his heart. She nodded and winked at him.

"Let's see, what else did Lady Romano want me to tell you?" She looked toward the ceiling, then smiled. "She said you would want to know that Elizabeth did make the verigraphherself. No one can forge them, you know. At least not in the Capellan Confederation, though there are rumors of a process in the Federated Suns. But that's news that doesn't concern you. In any event, Romano said that Lady Elizabeth created the verigraphafter Romano promised to ship her off to you if Elizabeth would renounce all ties and claims to the throne. Then, of course, Romano had her killed."

Ridzik felt a thickness in his throat. No! This is impossible! This cannot be happening. I am Pavel Ridzik!

The assassin smiled down at him as she filled a syringe with a clear liquid. "I do want you to know that, under normal circumstances, I would not use this on a person of your stature in the Successor States, but Lady Romano was rather specific. In fact, giving you as much of the dart juice as I did would have displeased her because it will numb you somewhat."