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Bradley, Marion Zimmer, 1930-1999

"The Door Through Space"

" The
words spilled out of her like floodwaters. "He's won so many of you,
don't let him have you too, Rakhal. They call you an honest man, you
worked once for Terra, the Terrans would believe you if you went to them
and told them what he--Rakhal, take me to the Terran Zone, take me
there, take me there where they'll protect me from Evarin."
At first I tried to stop her, question her, then waited and let the
torrent of entreaty run on and on. At last, exhausted and breathless,
she lay quietly against my shoulder, her head fallen forward. The musty
reek of _shallavan_ mingled with the flower scent of her hair.
"Kid," I said heavily at last, "you and your Toymaker have both got me
wrong. I'm not Rakhal Sensar."
"You're not?" She drew back, regarding me in dismay. Her eyes searched
every inch of me, from the gray streak across my forehead to the scar
running down into my collar. "Then who--"
"Race Cargill. Terran Intelligence."
She stared, her mouth wide like a child's.
Then she laughed.


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