"She's no lady," said the girl. "And it isn't funny. You watch your
step. She can see in the dark like a cat!"
"What's that?" Joel's interest quickened. "See in the dark?"
"Like a cat!" Peg repeated. "And that's not the half of it. She can
smell a person out like a hound! I mean actually. Just let her get one
whiff of you and she knows who you are!"
Joel wasn't surprised. That explained how Priscilla had detected Tamis
at the slave market. It also explained why the Ganelon spies had always
been caught in the palace. Their alien scent had betrayed them to
Priscilla's keen nostrils. Trapping them was easy.
"We've loitered here as long as we dare!" Peg said nervously. "I'll get
in trouble."
The major-domo said, "Don't forget tonight," retreated down the passage
to his office.
Joel followed the girl through a maze of corridors. Peg switched along,
chattering incessantly. Once she hissed out of the corner of her mouth,
"Talk! Don't gape at the mirrors. We're not supposed to know they're
televisors!"
For the life of him, Joel couldn't think of anything to say. The
mirrors were everywhere. They gave him a bad case of stage fright.
At the top floor, Peg paused before a door, pressed a stud. Joel saw
that a panel of opaque plastic had been let into the face of the door.
"I'm on the terrace," said Priscilla's voice suddenly. It sounded so
close that Joel's head snapped around. "Bring him back here."
And the door opened, silently, disclosing an empty vestibule. The walls
were mirrors glowing with a subdued rose light. Their feet made no
sound on the dull black plastic floor as they crossed the vestibule,
entered the salon.
Like the vestibule, Joel saw, it was paneled in dimly gleaming mirrors.
It made the room stretch out forever except where crystal doors gave
onto a roof garden. He could see Priscilla Cameron stretched on a deck
chair sunning herself in the luminous orange rays of Alpha Centauri B.