were vague in his memory.
When full awareness returned he realized that the lights were on in the
room. He was lying on his back, looking up at them. Two men stood next
to him, staring down at him from above the perspective columns of their
legs. One held a short metal bar that he kept slapping into his open
palm.

The other man was Hengly.

"Not very friendly for an old classmate," he said, holding out Neel's
gun. "Now get inside, I want to talk to you."

Neel rolled over painfully and crawled to his feet. His head throbbed
with pain, but he tried to ignore it. As he stood up his hand brushed
his ankle. The tiny gun Costa had given him was still in the top of his
shoe. Perhaps Hengly wasn't being as smart as he should.

"I can take care of him," Hengly said to the man with the metal rod.
"He's the only one left now, so you can get some sleep. See you early in
the morning though." The man nodded agreement and left.

Slouched in the chair Neel looked forward to a certain pleasure in
killing Hengly. Costa was dead, and this man was responsible for his
death. It wouldn't even be like killing a friend, Hengly was very
different from the man he had known. He had put on a lot of weight and
affected a thick beard and flowing mustache. There was something jovial
and paternal about him--until you looked into his eyes. Neel slumped
forward, worn out, letting his fingers fall naturally next to the gun in
his shoe. Hengly couldn't see his hand, the desk was in the way. All
Neel had to do was draw and fire.

"You can pull out the gun," Hengly said with a grim smile, "but don't
try to shoot it." He had his own gun now, aimed directly at Neel.
Leaning forward he watched as Neel carefully pulled out the tiny weapon
and threw it across the room. "That's better," he said, placing his own
gun on the desk where he could reach it easily. "Now we can talk."

"There's nothing I have to say to you, Hengly." Neel leaned back in the
chair, exhausted. "You're a traitor!"

Hengly hammered the desk in sudden anger and shouted. "Don't talk to me
of treachery, my little man of peace. Creeping up with a gun to kill a
friend. Is that peaceful? Where are the ethos of humanism now, you were
very fond of them when we were in the University!"

Neel didn't want to listen to the words, he thought instead of how right
Costa had been. He was dead, but this was still his operation. It was
going according to plan.

"Walk right in there," Costa had s