"What other sky might I have meant?' 'Dunno.'
'What is my name?' 'Gregor.'
'How do you know that?' I asked, without reacting. 'She call it you.'
Crezia glanced at me nervously. 'Who does that make me?' 'Dunno.'
'Who might I be? Who do you suppose?' 'Eisssnhorn.'
Why do you know that name?' 'Job.'
'What job?'
'Be mere work. Pay job.' 'Tell me more about that.' 'Dunno more.'
What is your name?' I asked the mercenary again. ТоГ you. Eino Goran.' 'Where are you from?' 'Hesperus.'
4Vhat colour is the sky?' 'Blue. Defn'ly' 'What is your name?' 'Eino. Goran. Eino Goran. Eino Goran.'
The words came out like a mountain stream, overlapping, light, without any meaning. 'Where are you from?' I went on. 'Hesperus… uh. Dunno.'
What does the tattoo on your upper body signify?' 'Bond.'
'In what language?' 'Dunno.'
'Is it a repatriation bond?' 'Uh huh.' 'That's a mercenary custom, isn't it?'
'Uhm.'
'It states, for any captor to see, that if you are returned to your home world, or an agency of your home world unharmed, a bond will be paid. Is that correct?'
'Yeah.'
'Are you a mercenary?'
Yessss.'
'What colour is the sky?'
'Blue. No, yes… blue.'
What is your name?'
'Uh…'
'I asked you, what is your name?'
'Wait… I know this. Be hard to think…' His eyes rolled in their sockets.
'What is your name?'
'Dunno.'
'Are you a mercenary?'
Yeah…'
'Was I your target last night?'
Yeah.'
"Who was your target last night?'
'Eisenhorn.'
Am I Eisenhorn?'
Yes.' He looked at me, but his eyes remained glassy, unfocussed.
'What were your orders?'
'Chill 'em all. Burn the place.'
'Where did the orders come from?'
'Clansire Etrik.'
'Is clansire a rank?'
Yeah.'
'Is Clansire Etrik a Vessorine janissary?'
Yes.'
Are you a Vessorine janissary?'
Yes.'
'What is your name, janissary?'
'Sire! Vammeko Tarl, sire!'
He paused and blinked, not sure what he had just said. Crezia was staring at me.
You're doing very well, Tarl,' I said.
'Uh huh.'
The emplate was shredding away from his mind like damp paper now. I went in for the kill with my full willpower now his mind was open.
'Where were you hired?'
'Twenty weeks ago. Nnngh. Twenty weeks.'
'Where was that?'
'Heveron.'
'What were you doing there?'
'Looking for work.'
'Before that?'
'Gnnh… be hired for a border war. Local governor hired us. But the war fizzled out.'
'And you found a new client?'
The Clansire did. Good pay, for a longterm hire. Off-world, transit paid.'
To do what?'
They didn't tell us. Shipped us off to someplace/
Where?'
'Gudrun?'
'Was it Gudrun?'
'Yeah…' A shudder went through him.
'And the job, in outline?'
'Hardware and fliers provided by client. Told to hit this place on a headland. Chill everyone.'