Page 68 (1/2)

“How poisonous? Enough to et a rash?”

“A rash? Ha! Death, this one courts” Now I flinch “Don’t you trust old Liago?”

“No farther than I could throw you”

“What what?”

“You first, Doc”

With a lone finger, he touches the steo and a deep purple The plant arcs into his hand, like a cat being scratched Sophocles watches froo says “But if you rush your hand upon it…” He takes a length of unsliced cucumber from the remains of his breakfast and hits the plant Small spines erupt froins to shrivel and blacken, filling the roo stench Sophocles backs away

“Cellular death!” he announces

I laugh in genuine delight “Wicked What do you call it?”

“Nyxacallis”

I

sigh “Is that Latin?”

“It ht I’d ask hinize the pain on his face Maybe that’s why I’m so fond of the old bat He’s the only one in the Telemanus estate ears his pain in his eyes Rest are all playing games

“So you brought me another sample?” he asks after a moment “Let’s see” He opens the plastic container and takes a deep, satisfied whiff of the scat before slipping out of the greenhouse to a small silver machine in his lab I follow behind After a sample has been inserted, numbers and symbols flow from a small holoprojector in the machine into the air

“What’s that?” I ask

“Those?” He’s confused “Of course, curious cat Hoould you know? Those are cheen sulfide,thing that is, was, and will be It’s in rasp the idea “You knohat I like about you, Lyria?”