Clarion

THE MAN HAD BEEN WAITING IN THE SHADOWS OF

the alley for an hour when the first explosion came from the far side of the temple. The two sentries at the courtyard entrance turned instinctively in that direction, and the man stepped quickly across the road to flatten himself against the wall. He waited, hardly breathing. The sentries were only boys, but they were deadly.

The second blast was followed by distant shouts. The sentries drew their side arms and left their post at a run. The man grasped the top of the wall, pulled himself over and dropped lightly to the other side. Still crouching, he scanned the courtyard.

"I'm over the wall," he whispered. The small communications device was pinned to the neckband of his black fatigues. "Nobody around. Set off the rest of the caps in thirty seconds, then get out of here."

The courtyard was long and narrow, paved with stone. In the pale starlight he could see scattered crouching shapes that he took to be benches and William Greenleaf

clumps of low vegetation. Farther back was the great dark form of the temple building. Light flickered at the arched entrance. A single spire curved upward twenty meters, ghostly white

against the night sky.

The man's name was Cleve Quinton. He had

prepared himself as well as he could for this night, but as he crouched there looking up at the spire, he felt the danger of this place settle into his stomach like a hard knot. All his muscles were tensed for him to scramble back over the wall and escape into the darkness.

Stay calm, he told himself. He breathed slowly and forced his muscles to relax, one by one. But he couldn't take his eyes off the slender spire. From behind the temple came a rattling crescendo of explosions. The sound startled him even though he should have expected it. The commotion of voices told him the temple guards were still back there trying to find the source of the explosions. He drew a handgun from an inside pocket of his fatigues, checked the bead cartridge for a full load and made sure the scatter nozzle was in place. Keeping close to the wall, he made his way carefully across the courtyard to the lighted archway that was the temple's entrance. He climbed the shallow steps and ducked through the archway without a backward glance. To his left was the wide doorway that led into the sacred chamber. The flickering light came from there.

For a moment he stared into the chamber,

then turned right and went through another low doorway and along a short passage to a flight of stairs.

"I'm going up," he said, surprised at the steady sound of his voice. The stomach pains of danger grew more acute now that he was inside the temple. The light over the stairs was dim and he knew he