Eleanor shot Wakeman a warning look. "Be careful!"
Without taking his eyes from Benteley, Wakeman said slowly:
"You're out of fealty; take advantage of that. Don't swear yourself on to Verrick. You'll be stuck to him, as one of his permanent serfs."
Benteley was chilled. "You mean I'm supposed to take an oath directly to Verrick? Not a positional oath to the Quizmaster?"
"That's right," Eleanor said.
"Why?"
"Ican't give you information. Later on there'll be an assignment for you in terms of your class requirements; that's guaranteed."
Benteley gripped his case and moved away. His expectations had fallen apart. "I'm in?" he demanded, half-angrily. "I'm acceptable?"
"Verrick wants all eight-eight's he can get. You can't miss."
"Wait," Bentley said, confused and uncertain. "Give me time to decide." Then he withdrew.
Eleanor wandered about the room. "Any more news of that fellow?" she asked Wakeman.
"Only the initial closed-circuit warning to me," Wakeman said. "His name is Leon Cartwright. He's a member of some kind of cult. I'm curious to see what he's like."
"I'm not." Eleanor halted at the window and gazed down at the streets below. "Maybe I made a mistake. But it's over; there's nothing I can do."
"When you're older you'll realize how much of a mistake," Wakeman agreed.
Fear came to the girl's face. "I'll never leave Verrick. He'll take care of me; he always has."