Skyler was looking upward. Caine followed his gaze, found the tiny black dot hovering far above.

"Smile for Security's cameras," Skyler suggested.

Caine considered sending an obscene gesture instead, decided not to bother. Replacing his shuriken in its pouch, he followed Lathe back through the trees as, all around him, the "dead" returned to life to await the next victim.

—

It was really rather sobering to see the performance on tape.

Seated before the screen, his mind replaying his own memories as he watched, he listened to Lathe's running critique. "...here you lost half a second in the backward underhand throw.... Good roll, but he should by rights have nailed you on his next shot.... Skyler may have been too quiet to hear, but you should have sensed his approach.... Late, but a good takedown anyway."

The tape ended, and Caine uncurled his fists. "So what's the verdict?" he asked. "Are you graduating us now, or do I have to wait until the next time the Novak heads for Earth?"

Lathe set his elbows on the desk in front of him, fingering the ring he wore on the middle finger of his right hand as he gazed into Caine's face. Caine's eyes dropped to the ring: a silvery dragonhead, its batwing crest curving back over the knuckle, its ruby-red eyes proclaiming its owner to be a blackcollar comsquare. A symbol of ability, dedication, and sheer fighting power... and for Caine, a symbol too of what he intended to do with his new skills.

"You'd like to wear the dragon, wouldn't you?" Lathe asked into his thoughts.

"Not without earning it," Caine told him.

Lathe shrugged fractionally, his eyes still on Caine's. "We could grant you a special exception, provided we could find an unused ring to fit you."

"What good would that do?" Caine snorted. "I want to be a blackcollar, not just dress like one."

Lathe pursed his lips. "If we had any Backlash, you'd be the first to get it. You know that."