"Who's there?" McKie rasped. His own voice sent agony pinwheeling through his skull.
"Good thing your people know how to obey instructions," the man said. "Imagine him running loose around here!"
"How did you get here, McKie?" the woman asked.
"I walked," McKie growled. "Is that you, Abnethe?"
"He walked!" the man snarled.
McKie, listening to that male voice, began to wonder about it. There was a trace of alien sibilance in it. Was it human or humanoid? Among the sentients only a PanSpechi could look that human - because they had shaped their flesh to the human pattern.
"Unless you release me," McKie said, "I won't answer for the consequences."
"You'll answer for them," the man said. There was laughter in his voice.
"We must be sure how he got here," the woman said.
"What difference does it make?"
"It could make a great deal of difference. What if Fanny Mae is breaking her contract?"
"That's impossible!" the man snorted.
"Nothing's impossible. He couldn't have got here without Caleban help."
"Maybe there's another Caleban."
"Fanny Mae says not."
"I say we do away with this intruder immediately," the man said.
"What if he's wearing a monitor?" she asked.
"Fanny Mae says no Taprisiot can locate this place!"
"But McKie is here!"
"And I've had one long-distance call since I arrived," McKie said. No Taprisiot can locate this place? he wondered. What would prompt that statement?
"They won't have time to find us or do anything about it," the man said. "I say we do away with him."
"That wouldn't be very intelligent," McKie said.
"Look who's talking about intelligence," the man said.
McKie strained to discern details of faces, but they remained blank shadows. What was it about that male voice? The storter disguised the woman's voice, but why would she bother?
"I am fitted with a life monitor," McKie said.
"The sooner, the better," the man said.
"I've stood as much of that as I can," the woman said.
"Kill me, and that monitor starts transmitting," McKie said. "Taprisiots will scan this area and identify everyone around me. Even if they can't locate you, they'll know you."
"I shudder at the prospect," the man said.
"We must find out how he got here," the woman said.
"What difference does it make?"
"That's a stupid question!"
"So the Caleban broke her contract."
"Or there's a loophole in it we don't know about."
"Well, plug it up."
"I don't know if we can. Sometimes I wonder how much we really understand each other. What are connectives?"
"Abnethe, why're you wearing that storter?" McKie asked.
"Why do you call me Abnethe?" she asked.
"You can disguise your voice, but you can't hide your sickness or your style," McKie said.
"Did Fanny Mae send you here?" she demanded.
"Didn't somebody say that was impossible?" McKie countered.
"He's a brave one," the woman chuckled.
"Lot of good it does him."
"I don't think the Caleban could break our contract," she said. "You recall the protection clause? It's likely she sent him here to get rid of him."
"So let's get rid of him."
"That's not what I meant!"
"You know we have to do it."
"You're making him suffer, and I won't have it!" the woman cried.
"Then go away and leave it to me."