suppose the old fellow, Sirzob, was a fair shot, but dropping him
wasn't any great feat of arms, either."

Klarnood looked at him curiously for a moment. "You know," he said, at
length, "I believe you actually mean that. Well, until he met you,
Marnark of Bashad was rated as the best knife-fighter in Darsh. Sirzob
had ten dueling victories to his credit, and young Yirzol four." He
puffed slowly on his pipe. "I like you, Lord Virzal; a great Assassin
was lost when you decided to reincarnate as a Venusian land-owner. I'd
hate to see you discarnated without proper warning. I take it you're
ignorant of the intricacies of Terran politics?"

"To a large extent, yes."

"Well, do you know who those three men were?" When Verkan Vall shook
his head, Klarnood continued: "Marnark was the son and right-hand
associate of old Mirzark of Bashad, the Statisticalist Party leader.
Sirzob of Abo was their propaganda director. And Yirzol of Narva was
their leading socio-economic theorist, and their candidate for
Executive Chairman. In six minutes, with one knife thrust and two
shots, you did the Statisticalist Party an injury second only to that
done them by the young lady in whose name you were fighting. In two
weeks, there will be a planet-wide general election. As it stands, the
Statisticalists have a majority of the seats in Parliament and on the
Executive Council. As a result of your work and the Lady Dallona's,
they'll lose that majority, and more, when the votes are tallied."

"Is that another reason why you like me?" Verkan Vall asked.

"Unofficially, yes. As President-General of the Society of Assassins,