It was their fifth day in Wye and in the morning Dors was helping Raych into a formal costume that neither was quite familiar with.

Raych looked at himself dubiously in the holomirror and saw a reflected image that faced him with precision, imitating all his motions but without any inversion of left and right. Raych had never used a holomirror before and had been unable to keep from trying to feel it, then laughing, almost with embarrassment, when his hand passed through it while the image’s hand poked ineffectually at his real body.

He said at last, “I look funny.”

He studied his tunic, which was made of a very pliant material, with a thin filigreed belt, then passed his hands up a stiff collar that rose like a cup past his ears on either side.

“My head looks like a ball inside a bowl.”

Dors said, “But this is the sort of thing rich children wear in Wye. Everyone who sees you will admire you and envy you.”

“With my hair all stuck down?”

“Certainly. You’ll wear this round little hat.”

“It’ll make my head more like a ball.”

“Then don’t let anyone kick it. Now, remember what I told you. Keep your wits about you and don’t act like a kid.”

“But I am a kid,” he said, looking up at her with a wide-eyed innocent expression.

“I’m surprised to hear you say that,” said Dors. “I’m sure you think of yourself as a twelve-year-old adult.”

Raych grinned. “Okay. I’ll be a good spy.”

“That’s not what I’m telling you to be. Don’t take chances. Don’t sneak behind doors to listen. If you get caught at it, you’re no good to anyone—especially not to yourself.”

“Aw, c’mon, Missus, what do ya think I am? A kid or somethin’?”

“You just said you were, didn’t you, Raych? You just listen to everything that’s said without seeming to. And remember what you hear. And tell us. That’s simple enough.”

“Simple enough for you to say, Missus Venabili,” said Raych with a grin, “and simple enough for me to do.”

“And be careful.”

Raych winked. “You bet.”

A flunky (as coolly impolite as only an arrogant flunky can be) came to take Raych to where Rashelle was awaiting him.

Seldon looked after them and said thoughtfully, “He probably won’t see the zoo, he’ll be listening so carefully. I’m not sure it’s right to thrust a boy into danger like that.”

“Danger? I doubt it. Raych was brought up in the slums of Billibotton, remember. I suspect he has more alley smarts than you and I put together. Besides, Rashelle is fond of him and will interpret everything he does in his favor. —Poor woman.”

“Are you actually sorry for her, Dors?”

“Do you mean that she’s not worth sympathy because she’s a Mayor’s daughter and considers herself a Mayor in her own right—and because she’s intent on destroying the Empire? Perhaps you’re right, but even so there are some aspects