"What impression?"
"That we're being followed. That we're being watched. Every step of the
way."
Wind and cold and darkness. The hairs on the back of Ramsey's neck
prickled. They walked on, bent against the wind.
* * * * *
Security Officer Second Class Ramar Chind reported to his Chief in the
Hall of Retribution the following morning. Chind, a career man with the
Irwadi Security Forces, did not like his new boss. Garr Symm was no
career man. He knew nothing of police procedure. It was even
rumored--probably based upon solid fact--that Garr Symm liked his brandy
excessively and often found himself under its influence. Worst of
all--after all, a man could understand a desire for drink, even if,
sometimes, it interfered with work--worst of all, Garr Symm was a
scientist, a dome-top in the Irwadi vernacular. And hard-headed Ramar
Chind lost no love on dome-tops.