Calvin M. Knox (3 page)

Catton moved forward rapidly, caught the
girl, and steadied her on her feet before anyone else could move.

"Are you all right?"

"Perfectly," she said. "Thanks
very kindly." In a lower voice she added, "I have to speak to you
alone tonight. It's very important."

IH.

Thebe were
more than a hundred guests at the reception
in Carton's honor that evening. The list included virtually every Terran of
note in Dyelleran. A quartet of Morilaru musicians kept up an endless flow of
melody; the punchbowl, spiked with
a tawny
alien
liquor, was never allowed to be empty. Catton did not care much for this sort
of formal pomp, but he knew it was essential to his role that he
allow
himself to be presented to the world as a typical
Terran diplomat.

As
guest of honor, it was his privilege to claim the first dance with the
Ambassador's daughter. The alien musicians played a fair approximation of a
waltz, interpolating just enough of their own chromatic harmonies to destroy
any link the waltz tune might have had with ancient Vienna. Estil moved lighdy
in Catton's arms. She was a slim girl, gravely attractive, with serious
violet-blue eyes and a soft cloud of dark hair.

"You said you wanted to talk to me alone
tonight," Carton said softly as they swung round the floor.

"Yes. I'm in trouble, Mr. Catton. Maybe
you can help me."

"Me? How can I help? I'm a stranger
here?"

She nodded. "Perhaps that's how. Somehow
I know I can trust you. I hope you don't mind listening to me go on like
this."

"I'm always willing to help a damsel in
distress. What's your difficulty, Miss Seeman?"

"I'll—111
tell you about it later. We'll go out on the balcony to talk. Daddy will think
it's so romantic of usl"

Catton smiled, but within himself he felt
uneasy. He hoped the girl was not leading up to something along the line of
telling him she had fallen for him at first sight. For one thing, charming
though she was, she was only a child, half his age; for another, his profession
made romantic entanglements of any sort unwise. But he realized he was
probably flattering himself. Estil would not be likely to develop much romantic
interest for a craggy-faced man who was almost forty. He wondered what kind of
trouble she was in.

The
dance came to its end, and Catton escorted the girl across the floor to the
table at which her father sat. Ambassador Seeman was a great barrel of a man,
immensely tall, hugely broad; his voice was a mellow bass boom. As the Terran
World Government's Ambassador to Morilar, it was his task to keep diplomatic
relations between the two worlds on an even keel despite the constant stresses
that arose.

"Your daughter dances
very well," Catton said.

Seeman chuckled. "She's had good tutors.
I've spared no expense."

A man wearing the uniform
of an officer in the Terran

Space
Navy approached, said something to Estil, and danced away with her. As soon as
the girl was beyond earshot, the Ambassador remarked, "She's come along
wonderfully well since her mother died. Become the very image of my
wife."

"How long ago did she die?"

"Twelve
years.
Almost as soon as we arrived on Morilar.
Estil
was six, then. She hardly remembers Earth at all now, except as a vague
blur."

"You haven't been back in all this
time?"

"No," Seeman said. "She's
never shown any interest in returning to Earth. Morilar is her home world, I'm
afraid. After all, she's spent two-thirds of her life here."

Catton
nodded. A woman came up to them; Catton had been introduced to her earlier in
the evening, and he dimly recalled that she was the wife of one of the lesser
Terran diplomats stationed on Morilar. They made conversation for a while, and
then Carton completed the formalities by dancing with her. She chattered on
and on about the complexities of life on an alien world—houseboy trouble, the
heat, the strange food, all the rest.

The evening dragged along. Some time later,
Catton found himself dancing with Estil again; and, at the end of the dance,
they strolled out onto the open balcony at the far side of the ballroom. Catton
noted with irritation that they were being stared at, and no doubt commented
upon, as they left the dance floor.

The
night was warm. The sky, speckled with the unfamiliar constellations, was
partly veiled with murky clouds. The two bright moons of Morilar hung high
overhead. Below them, the city sprawled out toward the horizon.

Estil said, "Will you promise to keep
absolutely secret everything I'm going to tell you?"

"That's
a pretty tall order. Suppose you tell me that the sun's going nova. Should I
keep the news to myself?"

Catton
regretted his facetiousness instandy. She said, "I mean it.
Please
be serious."

"All right.
I'm sorry. What do you want to tell me, EstilP" "I'm in
love," she said simply.

Catton
peered out over the balcony. A river wound like a glittering snake through the
heart of the city. "Every girl your age should be in love," he said.
"It's good for the spirit."

"You're
patronizing me," she said crisply. Catton smiled. "I guess I am.
Again, I'm sorry. I mean it. I won't do it again." "Will you hear me
out?" "Go on," he said.

"Very well.
I'm in love with my music teacher. Doveril Halligon. You met him this
afternoon in the drawing-room."

Her quiet words detonated like bombshells.
Catton turned pale. He swung round to face her. "But—but he's a Morilarul
An alien!"

"He's a
person,"
she replied.
"A kind,
warmhearted person.
As good as any Earthman I've ever known. Why
shouldn't I love him? He understands me. He loves me."

Catton moistened his lips. The implications
of this thing were explosive.
An ambassador's daughter, in
love with an alien?
The scandal would be enormous. "All
right," he said calmly. "You're in love with him. Why tell this to
me?"

"I
want to go away from here with Doveril. Far away, where no one can find us and
break us up. I know
,
it's a shocking thing, an Earth
girl falling in love with—with an alien. I can't help myself. It—just happened
that way. I have a little money saved. So does Doveril."

"And how do I fit into this?"
Catton asked.

"You're here to investigate the
hypnojewel racket, aren't you?"

Catton's
jaw dropped. "Yes. How did you find
that
out?"
The girl smiled. "Daddy told me. Daddy tells me almost everything I want
him to tell me." She paused. "You're here to investigate trade in
hypnojewels. Well, sometimes, I've heard Doveril talking about hypnojewels with
his friends.
Whispering.
This afternoon, when he was
here at the Embassy, giving me my music lesson, he brought that friend of his
along, Gonnimor Cleeren. They said a few things. I guess they didn't think I
understood. I heard them mention hypnojewels."

"Are you sure? But—"

"I'm
afraid," the girl said, trying to keep an adolescent quiver out of her
voice. "Doveril doesn't like to talk much about his past. I'm afraid he
may be mixed up in the hypno-jewel business, or that he might have been
involved in it some time in the past. So what I want you to do for me—if you
can—is find out whether he's in the clear. Can you do that for me?"

"Tell
you whether or not Doveril has ever been mixed up in hypnojewel
trafficking?"

"Yes. Oh, you must have access to the
police records, as
a
member of the Crime Commission, and—"

"And those records are supposed to be
confidential."

"I
know," she said. "But
1
love
Doveril so much—and you wouldn't want me to run away with him if he were
a
criminal,
would you?"

I
wouldn't want you to run away with him for any reason,
Catton thought. It would be suicidally
foolish for her to elope with a penniless alien musician. But he kept his
thoughts to himself.

He said, "I see your position. You must
be terribly worried about him." I am.

"I hope for your sake that he's in the
clear." "I hope so too," she said. "You'll help me,
then?" "I can't promise anythng. I'll do my best, though. Ml
try
to find out."

"You'll do it soon, won't you?"

"As
soon as I can find anything,
111
let
you know." He smiled. "We'd better go back inside now," he said.
"We've been out here almost fifteen minutes. People are going to start
whispering things about us."

They
returned to the ballroom. The dance was still in full swing. Carton grinned at
the girl and she went dancing off in the arms of one of the young Space Navy
officers. Catton wandered toward the sidelines and poured himself a glass of
the highly spiked punch.

Ambassador
Seeman was deep in conversation with two Terran businessmen and their wives.
Catton wondered whether the Ambassador had even the faintest notion of the
sort of thing his little girl had become involved in, at her tender age.
Probably, Catton thought, Seeman had no suspicion whatever. He shrugged.

About
midnight, the reception ended. The guests departed, and Catton, wearily,
returned to his own room two floors above the Embassy ballroom. He flickered on
the lightswitch. The visiphone blinker was on, telling him that there had been
a call for him during the evening.

He
activated the playback of the call-recorder, and the screen came to light.

The
head and shoulders of a Morilaru woman appeared in the viewing area. Above her
head, the time of her call was imprinted. She had called nearly two hours ago.

She
said, "You don't know me, but I have some information that can be very
useful to you. If you think you're interested, call me any time before midnight
at K22-1055B."

Frowning, Catton looked at his watch. It was
after midnight, but not much after. He decided to try the number.

Blanking the screen and wiping away the
recording of her call, he punched out the number on the keyboard. A moment
passed, while the screen remained cloudy. Then the murk cleared. The head and
shoulders of the Morilaru woman appeared. She seemed to be young, as far as
Catton could tell, but there was a cold hardness about her eyes and lips.

"Yes?" she said.

"This
is Lloyd Catton. You left a message for me to call you.

"Oh. Yes. I'd like to meet you,
Catton." "Why?"

"It
isn't something I could be happy talking about on a vision screen," she
said.

"If
you don't feel like telling me what you want to talk about," Catton said,
"I might as well switch the screen off. It's too late at night for playing
mysterious guessing-games."

"All right.
Ill tell you this much: I have some information for you on a subject
you're very interested in. A subject connected with jewelry."

Catton nodded slowly, concealing his
confusion and surprise. Word certainly traveled quickly on this planet. He
said, "Okay, I'm interested. I suppose you want to meet me?"

"Yes.
Tomorrow."

"Where?"

"In the old quarter," she said.
"There's a tavern where I could see you. It's on the Street of the Two
Moons, just over the bridge. Think you can find it?"

"I'll manage. What's the name of the
place?"

"The
Five Planets," she said. "My name is Nuuri Gryain. Will you be there
at noon sharp?"