"Anything outside the wall that can help us?"

"Precious little," Uncle Virge said. "There's the gatehouse, of course—"

"Gatehouse?" Jack asked.

"To the left of the main entrance," Draycos said, flicking out his tongue to touch the edge of a small shape almost hidden beneath the wall overhang.

"Right," Uncle Virge said, sounding a little annoyed that Draycos had noticed it. Another small red rectangle appeared to mark the image. "Probably someone in there checking passes and invitations and keeping the riffraff out."

"Though the actual defense positions are here and here," Draycos added, indicating a pair of camouflaged and virtually invisible huts nestled into two groups of trees in the formal gardens flanking the drive. "The guard outside is merely for show."

"And there are bound to be more guards inside the house, as well," Uncle Virge said. "You sure you don't want to try a different plan?"

"What about the employees?" Jack asked, ignoring the question. "They don't all live in the mansion, do they?"

Uncle Virge sighed. "No, I'm sure there are some with homes in the city."

"Good," Jack said briskly. "Get busy and find one."

CHAPTER 2

The Ponocce Regional Spaceport was confusingly laid out, overloaded with paperwork-pushers, and just plain badly run. It was also staffed entirely by Brummgas, which, in Jack's opinion, was another way of saying the same thing.

The big, wide aliens had a reputation across the Orion Arm for being as strong as giant oaks and just about as smart.

But for all that, he found himself breezing through the entry procedure in remarkably quick time. Even more surprising, his hiker's backpack with its load of disguised burglar tools didn't even rate a second look. Perhaps, he thought, a spaceport located near a major slave dealer had learned not to look too closely at visitors or their luggage.