To show him how little that is worth, she slips from the desktop and fires a burst across his feet. Ohara howls and does a spastic little dance right there in his chair. Tikki puts one hand to his shoulder and shoves him over backward, chair and all. Ohara tumbles and sprawls, rolls over onto his back. His face is bright red, contorted by rage or frustration. His smell is as much fear as pain, and he is bloodied from head to foot. Good signs all around. Maybe now he’ll behave like prey.