This thought inflicted her with a momentary sense of unfocused loss.  How pervasive were the seductions of Dosadi's power structure!  How subtle!  What she'd just done here introduced a flaw into the computer system which ruled the distribution of non-poisonous food in Dosadi's only city.  Food - here was the real base of Dosadi's social pyramid, solid and ugly.  The flaw removed her from a puissant niche in that pyramid. She had worn the persona of Keila Jedrik-Liaitor for many years, long enough to learn enjoyment of the power system.  Losing one valuable counter in Dosadi's endless survival game, she must now live and act only with the persona of Keila Jedrik-Warlord.  This was an all-or-nothing move, a gambler's plunge.  She felt the nakedness of it.  But this gamble had begun long ago, far back in Dosadi's contrived history, when her ancestors had recognized the nature of this planet and had begun breeding and training for the individual who would take this plunge.

I am that individual, she told herself.  This is our moment.

But had they truly assessed the problem correctly?

Jedrik's glance fell on the single window which looked out into the canyon street.  Her own reflection stared back:  a face too narrow, thin nose, eyes and mouth too large.  Her hair could be an interesting black velvet helmet if she let it grow, but she kept it cropped short as a reminder that she was not a magnetic sex partner, that she must rely on her wits.  That was the way she'd been bred and trained.  Dosadi had taught her its cruelest lessons early.  She'd grown tall while still in her teens, carrying more height in her body than in her legs so that she appeared even taller when seated.  She looked down on most Gowachin and Human males in more ways than one.  That was another gift (and lesson) from her loving parents and from their ancestors.  There was no escaping this Dosadi lesson.