something in it for him, Ross decided, and filed
the thought away.

"Well, Kurt?" Ashe's recognition was as dampening as it could be, and
Ross's estimation of the younger man went up a fraction when the snub
appeared to have no effect upon him.

"Did you hear about Hardy?"

Feng looked as if he were about to speak, and Van Wyke frowned. Ashe
made a deliberate process of chewing and swallowing before he replied.
"Naturally." His tone reduced whatever had happened to Hardy to a
matter-of-fact proceeding far removed from Kurt's implied melodrama.

"He's smashed up ... kaput...." Kurt's accent, slight in the beginning,
was thickening. "Tortured...."

Ashe regarded him levelly. "You aren't on Hardy's run, are you?"

Still Kurt refused to be quashed. "Of course, I'm not! You know the run
I am in training for. But that is not saying that such can not happen as
well on my run, or yours, or yours!" He pointed a stabbing finger at
Feng and then at the blond men.

"You can fall out of bed and break your neck, too, if your number comes
up that way," observed Jansen. "Go cry on Millaird's shoulder if it
hurts you that much. You were told the score at your briefing. You know
why you were picked...."

Ross caught a faint glance aimed at him by Ashe. He was still totally in
the dark, but he would not try to pry any information from this crowd.
Maybe part of their training was this hush-hush business. He would wait
and see, until he could get Kurt aside and do a little pumping.
Meanwhile he ate stolidly and tried to cover up his interest in the
conversation.

"Then you are going to keep on saying 'Yes, sir,' 'No, sir,' to every
order here----?"

Hodaki slammed his tattooed hand on the table. "Why this foolishness,
Kurt? You well know how and why we are picked for runs. Hardy had the
deck stacked against him through no fault of the project. That has
happened before; it will happen again----"

"Which is what I have been saying! Do you wish it to happen to you?
Pretty games those tribesmen on your run play with their prisoners, do
they not?"

"Oh, shut up!" Jansen got to his feet. Since he loomed at least five
inches above Kurt and probably could have broken him in two over one
massive knee, his order was one to be considered. "If you have any
complaints, go make them to Millaird. And, little man"--he poked a
massive forefinger into Kurt's chest--"wait until you make that first
run of yours before you sound off so loudly. N