"I am Executive Councilman Salgath Trod," he told her. "I am, and for
the past fifteen years have been, criminally involved with the
organization responsible for the slave trade which recently came to
light on Third Level Esaron. I give myself up unconditionally; I am
willing to make full confession under narco-hypnosis, and will accept
whatever disposition of my case is lawfully judged fit. You'll have to
send an escort for me; I might start from my apartment alone, but I'd
be killed before I got to your headquarters--"

The girl, who had begun to listen in the bored manner of public
servants phone girls, was staring wide-eyed.

"Just a moment, Councilman Salgath; I'll put you through to Chief
Tortha."

* * * * *

The dinner lacked a half hour of being served; Thalvan Dras' guests
loitered about the drawing room, sampling appetizers and chilled
drinks and chatting in groups. It wasn't the artistic crowd usual at
Thalvan Dras' dinners; most of the guests seemed to be business or
political people. Thalvan Dras had gotten Vall and Dalla into the
small group around him, along with pudgy, infantile-faced Brogoth
Zaln, his confidential secretary, and Javrath Brend, his financial
attorney.

"I don't see why they're making such a fuss about it," one of the
Banking Cartel people was saying. "Causing a lot of public excitement
all out of proportion to the importance of the affair. After all,
those people were slaves on their own time line, and if anything,