Title: Whistle stop in space
Author: Crossen, Kendell Foster
Language: English
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*** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "Whistle stop in space" ***


                         WHISTLE STOP IN SPACE

                              A Novel by
                        KENDELL FOSTER CROSSEN

           [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from
                 Thrilling Wonder Stories August 1953.
         Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
         the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]



                                   I


The Draco Vacation Service occupied one floor in Interplanetary Towers
in Nuyork. The seventy-second floor, to be exact. It had been decorated
by one of the best robot-decorators in the Federation and looked it.
On one wall of the large reception room there was a three-dimensional
mural of Caph II. The blue sand and towering purple trees seemed so
real that many of the more bucolic visitors bumped into the wall before
they realized it was a painting. In front of the mural there was a
fountain spouting the pink water of Caph that tasted like champagne.

On another wall was a montage of photographs of Caph, and blazoned
across it: YOU CAN CHEAT TIME BY VACATIONING ON SUNNY CAPH, THE
PLAYLAND OF THE UNIVERSE. A TWO WEEK VACATION IS TEN MONTHS ON CAPH.
THE ONLY PLACE IN THE GALAXY WHERE LIFE PAYS YOU TWENTY-TO-ONE. YOU OWE
CAPH TO YOURSELF.

       *       *       *       *       *

Business was rushing, as it had been every day since the Draco
Vacation Service had opened. Despite the fact that there weren't
enough tour-managers to take care of the crowd, and that there was a
Fomalhautan millionaire who thought it was demeaning to discuss his
vacation with anyone except the president, it was only two o'clock when
Manning Draco left his private office. He stopped for a moment beside
the receptionist, an attractive Martian female. There were at least
a dozen persons crowded around her as she answered their questions.
Manning stood by her desk, apparently paying no attention to her.

_Dhena_, he thought, _I have to leave. It's possible that I
may be gone several days. Paul Sterling will be in charge._ This
was the chief reason he had hired a Martian receptionist. Telepathic
communication was a great advantage when you didn't want to be
overheard.

_Yes, Mr. Draco._ Her answering thought was clear and strong as
she continued to deal with the questions of would-be vacationists.
_Where will you be if we need you?_

_With my back against a wall, if I know anything about it_,
he thought sourly. He walked across the office and took the level
converter. Downstairs, he climbed into an air-cab and gave the driver
the address of his home.

Manning Draco no longer lived in the tiny bachelor apartment he had
once called home. Draco Vacation Service, started shortly after he had
married Vega Cruikshank, had prospered right from the beginning and
he had rented a modest pent-estate in the upper East side. The house,
built on top of one of the giant apartment buildings, was modern in
every respect and was surrounded by two acres of landscaped grounds.

Vega came running out to meet him as the cab deposited him on the
landing strip in front of the house.

"Darling," she exclaimed, giving him a kiss, "you remembered and came
home early."

"Remembered?" Manning asked, looking blank.

"Barnaby is five months old today," she said proudly. "You mean that
isn't why you came home early?" Barnaby was, of course, Manning's
and Vega's son who had been born on Caph II. He had been named after
J. Barnaby Cruikshank, his grandfather, the president of the Greater
Solarian Insurance Company, Monopolated, for whom Manning--in his own
words--had given the best years of his life. At the age of five months,
young Barnaby produced a number of gurgling sounds which Manning swore
were pure Capellanese.

"I remembered his birthday," Manning said, momentarily forgetting
his gloom. "I ordered him a set of atomic trains. Haven't they been
delivered yet?"

"Oh, Manning," Vega said, laughing, as they went into the house.
"Atomic trains. He won't be able to play with those for another six
years."

"Not Barnaby," Manning declared. "He's a smart kid. He'll have them in
operation before you know it."

Vega laughed again.

"But that's not the reason I'm home early," Manning said darkly.

"Sit down and relax and then you'll tell me all about it," Vega said
soothingly. "Have you heard the wonderful news about father? After
all these years of making big contributions to the Republocrats, he's
finally been given the sort of reward he's wanted. He's been made
Secretary of Planets."

"That," Manning said grimly, "is why I'm home early."

       *       *       *       *       *

Vega recognized the tone, although she couldn't imagine what was
causing it. She slipped her hand in his and waited.

"I don't know what he's up to," Manning said, "but you can be sure
that it's something I won't like. He called and told me the news
this afternoon. I knew it was something he'd always wanted and so I
poured on a little flattery. I told him that I thought it was pretty
generous of him to take time from his business to devote his talents
to government. I even mentioned that the Federation should have more
public-spirited citizens like him."

"That must have pleased him."

"Ha!" said Manning without humor. "He said he was glad that I felt that
way because he had a job for me to do and he would expect me in his
office on Rigil Kentaurus at three-thirty this afternoon."

"Oh," said Vega. Now she understood. "But you can't possibly leave the
business now, darling! This is the middle of the vacation season."

"I explained those things to him," Manning said bitterly. "His only
answer was to tell me that as Secretary of Planets he has the right to
draft any citizen for special emergency jobs. He said that if I weren't
in his office by three-thirty, he'd send the police after me. He
would, too."

"What are you going to do?"

"Go to Rigil Kentaurus. On the way, I'm going to try to figure out some
way of legally removing a father-in-law. Come on, help me pack. I'd
better take a few things. When your father has something he wants me
to do I'm liable to need anything from an extra pair of socks to a few
spare lives."

"All right, darling," Vega said. She followed him into their bedroom.
"But if Daddy sends you chasing off to some strange planet, remember
one thing, Manning Draco. No girls--not even platonic ones. No
reverting to type."

"You wrong me, dear," Manning said in wounded tones. "I never chased
after women in my life. They chased me. Take, for example, that lovely
girl, the former Vega--"

"All right," Vega interrupted, "only be sure that you run faster than
you did when I chased you."

"I can't help it if I'm irresistible to women," Manning purred and
ducked the shoe she aimed at him.

A few minutes later, a vacuum-packed traveling case under his arm,
Manning Draco bestowed a brief kiss on his sleeping son, a longer
one on his wife, and took an air-cab to the Nuyork spaceport. He had
phoned them from the office so that his space cruiser, the _Alpha
Actuary_, was already on the launching rack. He climbed in, cleared
with the control tower, and blasted off.

When he reached the edge of atmosphere, he threw the ship into
magnidrive for the ten-minute run to Rigil Kentaurus.

At exactly three-thirty Manning Draco was in the Planet Department
building, being shown into the office of the Secretary.

At forty-one, J. Barnaby Cruikshank was one of the most successful
men in the Galaxy. He had originally inherited the Greater Solarian
Insurance Company from his grandfather, but it had been a small company
barely making a profit. J. Barnaby had built it up until its assets
were somewhere around one and a half trillion credits.[1] He had been
very active in galactic politics, and much of his success was due to
that, but this was the first time he'd been given active participation
in the government.

[Footnote 1: And a very nice place it is to be around, too.]

J. Barnaby had always operated on the theory that chaos was just around
the corner. Those who worked for Greater Solarian--as Manning had until
only a few months before--were accustomed to J. Barnaby's looking as
though the corner had finally been rounded. So the rumpled appearance
of the new Secretary of Planets had no effect on Manning.

       *       *       *       *       *

As he entered the office, he caught a glimpse of another man leaving
by a side door. He was a Vegan, his skin the clear green of old jade.
The weave of his light plastic suit indicated that he was a high-caste
Vegan.

"Who was that?" Manning asked.

"Jimwe Gnade. Harris is being made an ambassador and the Vegan is going
to be the new candidate for vice president."

"Great Fomalhaut," exclaimed Manning. "Now we're even going to have
political candidates who contain chlorophyll."

"Very funny," grunted J. Barnaby. "How's Vega and little Barnaby?"

"How do you expect them to feel, losing husband and father just so you
can make a big man out of yourself?"

"You've decided to do the job?" J. Barnaby asked, ignoring the remark.

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not much," J. Barnaby said with a familiar grin. "The penalty for
refusing a government draft is five years."

"Little Barnaby," said Manning, "will have enough trouble living down
the fact that he has you for a grandfather, so he'll need my fatherly
guidance. I'll do it."

"My dear Manning," J. Barnaby said expansively, "I knew I could count
on you. I've always known that there was a heart of gold beneath
that--er--plain exterior. I knew I could depend on you to put aside
personal considerations--"

"Don't try to make such a big thing out of it," Manning interrupted. "I
said I'd do it. Now what is it you want?"

"Do you know Regulus II?"

"I know of it, but I've never been there."

"You will be, my boy, before the day is over. You, of course, know,
that for years the Federation has been bothered by Acrux and its
satellite systems. They have constantly tried to stir up trouble among
the member planets of the Federation, as well as trying to provoke
incidents which might give them an excuse to invade us. Well, an
Acruxian agent is now on Regulus II."

"Why tell me about it?" Manning asked. "Sounds like a job for the
Federation police."

"As a matter of fact," Barnaby said in what he imagined was a
confidential tone, "this is a pretty delicate situation and I doubt
if the average policeman could handle it. Then, there are reasons
why there might be complaints if the matter is handled by a regular
government representative."

"What reasons?" Manning asked bluntly. His eyes narrowed with
suspicion. "And while you're at it, you might also explain what your
special angle is."

"My dear Manning, my only motivation is that of the responsibility of
my great office--"

"Meteor dust," snapped Manning. "Tell me the whole thing or I'll let
you go ahead and put me in jail."

When he saw that Manning wouldn't give in, the pained expression
faded from J. Barnaby's face. "As a matter of fact," he said, "there
is a slight political aspect to the problem. As you know, there is
a galactic election coming up. I should like to continue to serve
as Secretary of Planets, but this will be possible only if the
Republocrats are re-elected. It looks as if it might be a close race."

"And what does that have to do with Regulus and the Acruxian agent you
say is there?"

"Everything," J. Barnaby said simply. "Regulus was admitted to the
Federation only recently. This will be the first election in which
it has taken part. Their admission to the Federation was vigorously
opposed by the Achernarian planets. It is the Achernarians who
represent the greatest threat to us in the coming election."

"So I'm to pull political chestnuts out of the fire for you?"

"In a way. There is an Acruxian agent on Regulus and we have no idea
what he is planning in the way of sabotage. But Regulus has very lax
laws about political candidates and the Acruxian agent is also running
for the office of Senator from Regulus. As an independent. Because of
opposition to Regulus, the only other candidate for the office is a
Republocrat. A native named Xelia Zon. In order to defeat the Acruxian,
you may have to do something which will help the Republocrat candidate."

       *       *       *       *       *

Manning frowned. "So that's why you can't use the cops," he said. "It's
illegal for any government official, in that capacity, to help one
candidate over another."

"That's it," J. Barnaby admitted. "If we used the police, it might
provide the Achernarians with enough ammunition to defeat us. On
the other hand, if we do nothing, the Acruxian agent may succeed in
throwing us into war--either civil war or war with Acrux. That leaves
it up to you, Manning."

"Okay. Do I have any kind of authority, or do I go merely as a nosy
citizen?"

"I've arranged for you to go as an election observer for the
Republocrat Party. That's about the best I could do."

"Great," Manning said dryly. "Do you have any other helpful little
hints?"

"Just a reminder that it's only a couple of days until elections," J.
Barnaby said briskly. "I'll expect you to have the whole thing cleaned
up before then. And, Manning...."

"Yes?"

"When you've got the problem whipped into shape, if you can think of
some way to give the solution wide publicity, it would be appreciated."

"You don't happen to have a short-handled star-duster, do you?" Manning
asked. "We could tie it on the back of my ship and I could dust off
a few stars while I'm doing the other things. I wouldn't want you to
think I have too much spare time on my hands."

"I'll even laugh at your jokes," J. Barnaby said sourly, "if you
clear this up for us. Now, if you'll excuse me, Manning, I have an
appointment with the Ambassador from Altair...."

"And I remember when you only had appointments with people who
wanted to buy life insurance," Manning murmured. He stood up. "Okay,
father-in-law. Hold on to your striped pants." He turned and left the
office.

As soon as he reached the spaceport, he blasted off. Once he was above
the planet, he fed the co-ordinates of Regulus II into the automatic
pilot and put the ship into magnidrive. Then he dug out an encyclotape
on Acruxians and leaned back to listen to it. He could learn about
Regulus when he got there, but he had a hunch he'd better find out
about Acruxians before he tangled with one.



                                  II


The _Alpha Actuary_ came out of magnidrive and dropped slowly
down toward the surface of Regulus II. Manning Draco stared at the
landing screen and wondered if someone had been kidding him. On the
entire planet there was only one building in sight and it was a modest
dwelling no larger than the average mansion anywhere in the Federation.
It certainly wasn't large enough to hold the population of a planet.
Besides, its architecture was pure Terran.

There was a small spaceport near the single house and Manning set his
ship down on it. He cut the power and threw open the air-lock.

There were two individuals waiting for him as he climbed out of the
ship. The first was a Terran, a tall austere man, wearing the formal
garb which was still so dear to the hearts of Terran politicians. His
welcome was anything but warm.

"I suppose," he said, offering a limp handshake, "you're this Manning
Draco person I was told to expect? The election observer, or some such
thing?"

"Some such thing," Manning said, returning the handshake.

"Can't imagine why they send anyone--even an observer--to this
miserable place," the man said, making no effort to lower his voice.
"You're aware, of course, that I'm the Terran Ambassador?"

"I guessed it," Manning said dryly. "It was hard work, but I did it."

The Ambassador stared blankly back at him. "The Secretary of Planets
telephoned me you were coming. I don't suppose he sent any word on my
request to be transferred?"

"No."

The Ambassador sighed heavily. "Perhaps if I made a larger
contribution," he murmured. "Is there anything I can do for you,
Mr.--ah--what was your name?"

"Don't even try to remember it," Manning said. "I wouldn't want you to
suffer any mental strain. Now, you just run along."

"I suppose this--ah--native is waiting to see you," the Ambassador
said. He sniffed audibly. "Well, I really must be getting back." He
turned and trotted rapidly in the direction of the house.

Manning grinned as he saw him go, then turned for his first look at a
Regulusian.

The creature who faced him stood upright and was almost as tall as
Manning. He wore a one-piece suit roughly similar to those worn by
Terrans, although it was cut in the back to accommodate a long, round
tail which was covered with short, silky hair. His hands, although
still bearing a resemblance to paws, were very human-like and were also
covered with silky fur. His face was rather pointed, with a receding
forehead. The nose was by far the most prominent feature. Not only was
it long, but on the very tip of it there were twenty-two light-pink
fleshy fingers growing in the form of a star.[2]

[Footnote 2: Primitive Regulusians had been closely related to the
Terran family _Talpidae_, species _Condylura cristata_,
sometimes known as the Star-Nosed Mole. Present day Regulusians are,
however, as far advanced over their ancestors as Terrans are over
_Pitchecanthropus erectus_.]

"Hello," Manning said. "I'm Manning Draco. Are you here to meet me?"

"Yes," said the Regulusian, finally advancing. As he continued to
speak, Manning noticed that he spoke Terran with almost no accent. "I
would have introduced myself sooner, but your Ambassador is fond of the
formal approach--through channels--and I did not wish to anger him. I
am Xelia Zon, Mr. Draco."

"Call me Manning. I'm glad to know you, Xelia." He put out his hand and
was somewhat surprised to find that the Regulusian had whipped his tail
around and coiled it about his hand.

"I see you are surprised," said the Regulusian. "This is your first
trip to Regulus?"

Manning admitted that it was.

"So few of your people come here," Xelia Zon said. "Like you Terrans,
we have the custom of establishing a physical contact on being
introduced. You do this by shaking hands; we do it by shaking tails.
I imagine that this developed because the tail is an important sense
organ to us."

"Sounds logical," Manning said. By this time he was so accustomed to
the many differences through the Galaxy that he seldom thought twice
about any of them.

"I believe it is one of the things which disturbs your Terran
Ambassador. In fact, he was heard saying that he disliked suddenly
finding a tail in his hand."

"Nothing could be worse than that limp hand he offers," Manning said
with a grin. "You know why I'm here?"

"To observe our election. Or so I was informed by the chairman of the
party. I'm afraid there will be little to observe."

"If you're Xelia Zon," Manning said, "then you must be the candidate
for Senator."

"I was," Xelia Zon said ruefully. "As of the moment, however, the party
has no candidate for the Senate. That's why I say there will be little
for you to observe. I was almost hoping that the party might decide to
send some sort of Federation policeman, but I suppose that was out of
the question."

"The Acruxian?" Manning asked.

"The Acruxian," Xelia said, nodding. "I'll tell you all about it, but
why not wait until we reach your room. I took the liberty of making a
reservation for you at our best hotel. Shall we go?"

"Where?" Manning asked. He looked around again at the
sparsely-shrubbed, flat ground. "I meant to ask you about your cities.
I thought I saw both sides of the planet as I came in, but I didn't
see anything that looked like a city, or even a village."

The Regulusian smiled, showing even, pointed teeth. "You are standing
directly over our capital city right now."

Manning lifted one foot and looked down. "Dehydrated?" he asked.

Xelia Zon laughed. "Hardly. Come. I'll show you."

       *       *       *       *       *

He led the way around the _Alpha Actuary_ and toward a small kiosk
which Manning had not previously noticed. They entered the kiosk,
walked down a few steps and then into an elevator. The door closed as
soon as they were in it and they lunged smoothly downward.

"Underground, eh?" Manning said. "All of your cities?"

Xelia Zon nodded. "Not only our cities, but also our farms, and every
other part of our civilization."

"Protection?"

"Perhaps. More likely, tradition. We are evolved from a race which
carried on its life beneath the surface of the ground, so I suppose we
feel more comfortable there. Then, by now, there are many advantages.
For example, we are able to get twice the yield on crops that we would
on the surface."

"How? I should think the lack of sunlight...."

"We plant on both the floor and the ceiling of the underground farm. As
for sunlight, we grow many crops that don't require it at all, and for
those that do we have methods of piping sunlight in underground--do you
find the idea of living underground unpleasant?"

"Why should I?" Manning asked, shrugging. "Then that one house on the
surface is our Ambassador's?"

"Yes. He flatly refused to live in Zeloha, the city to which we are
going. The Ambassadors from the other Federation planets are all living
in the city, although I suspect that some of them don't relish it
either. You wonder, perhaps, why I tell you this?"

"I imagine you have your reasons," Manning said, "and when you're ready
you'll tell them to me."

Xelia Zon nodded and the tiny fingers of the star on his nose flushed a
darker pink.[3] "It is related to the reason you're here," he said. "I
shall soon explain the connection."

[Footnote 3: Whenever a Regulusian is pleased his nose blushes. Since
the Regulusians are the least meddlesome race in the Galaxy, this led
to Professor Horatio Schlemozel offering the facetious explanation that
the Regulusians' noses blushed with pride because they weren't being
thrust into anybody else's business.]

The elevator stopped and the door slid noiselessly open. Manning
followed Xelia Zon out onto a broad strip of concrete, brightly
illumined by indirect lighting. Near the exit, there was a long,
stream-lined vehicle which Manning guessed was a Regulusian car. This
turned out to be correct for Xelia led the way directly to it and
they climbed in. Xelia pressed a number of buttons and the car leaped
forward. Manning could feel the pull of a powerful motor, but there was
practically no sound.

Xelia turned the car into a broad street and they picked up speed.
After a while, they began to see other cars on the street.

Within a few minutes they had reached the edge of the city. There were
a number of buildings on either side which looked as if they might be
stores. Most of the signs were in an unfamiliar script which Manning
assumed was Regulusian, although there were a few in Terran and other
Federation languages. The buildings were all only one storey high, and
the architecture mostly looked like the upper half of an egg.

"I suppose," Manning said, "that one of the penalties of building
underground is that you're restricted on how high you can make your
buildings. Doesn't that make the city take up a lot of space?"

Xelia Zon grinned. "I'm afraid you're still thinking in terms of Terran
culture. These buildings are all of fifteen or twenty storeys and we
have many that are still larger. You see, here, the street floor is the
top one. Everything is built toward the core of our planet instead of
skyward as you build."

"I'm beginning to get it," Manning said. "Everything works just the
opposite as with us." He grinned. "Tell me, is it true what they say
about Regulusian women--" He broke off as he realized Xelia Zon wasn't
getting it. "Never mind. It wasn't even a very good joke when it first
started on Terra a long time ago."

"If you'll notice," Xelia said, "you'll see the burrow-ways running off
the street and leading down to the last floor which is usually used for
parking."

Manning saw the openings, looking like tunnels, angling down from each
side of the street.

       *       *       *       *       *

By this time traffic was fairly heavy and there were considerable
Regulusians on the sidewalks hurrying about their business. Considering
the size of the city, there were very few citizens from other planets.

Everywhere the street was bright with the same indirect lighting
Manning had noticed earlier, but once they passed through a section
where the quality of light was different, more like sunlight.

"It is sunlight," Xelia said when Manning asked him about it. "This is
one of the sections to which we pipe sunlight from the surface. Most
of the embassies from other planets are in this section and it is done
here for their convenience."

Finally Xelia's car darted into one of the burrow-ways and began the
descent. When he braked the car to a stop, they were obviously inside a
building. There were a number of other cars parked on the floor.

"This," Xelia said, answering the expression on Manning's face before
he could put it into words, "is the top floor--you would call it the
bottom floor--of the hotel where you will stay." He opened the car door
and stepped out.

Manning followed him. "By the way," he said casually, "are the
Regulusians telepathic?"

Xelia Zon looked at him in surprise, then laughed. "Oh--you ask because
I answered your question before you asked it? We Regulusians are very
sensitive to expressions and attitudes. Quite often I have a good
idea of what you're going to say just before you speak. But that's
all. As you probably know, there aren't many telepathic races. The
Martians, Rigelians, Sabikians, I believe, and Acruxians. Like many
of the non-telepathic races, we Regulusians have natural barriers to
telepathic readings."

Manning had already discovered this, but he only nodded as they entered
an elevator.

"I've heard," Xelia continued, "that there is at least one Terran who
is not only telepathic, but also has developed a secondary mind-shield,
which is quite rare even among telepathic races. But, of course, this
may be one of those rumors that get around."

Manning didn't bother to tell him that he was the one Terran who
possessed this unusual mental equipment. He was certain that the
Regulusian was trustworthy, but there was no point in taking chances.
He had already learned that Acruxians were telepaths; if the Acruxian
agent who was on Regulus didn't learn of Manning's unique ability, it
might one day prove a slight advantage.

They stopped on the next floor and confirmed the reservation. Again, as
they passed through the lobby, Manning saw that nearly everyone there
was a Regulusian. He did catch sight of a couple of Vegans, a Capellan,
and a Polluxian who was obviously a traveling salesman, but it was a
small number of non-natives for such a large city.

Again they took an elevator. "This," said Manning as the elevator
surged upward, "at least, is a familiar sensation. We're going
_up_ to reach the room."

"Actually," said Xelia with a smile, "we are going down, since we
entered what we call the top floor."

"I've often been accused of not knowing down from up," Manning said
dryly, "but this is the first time it's ever been proved."

       *       *       *       *       *

Xelia chuckled as the elevator stopped. They followed the Regulusian
bellhop down the corridor to a room. It was, Manning saw as soon as
they entered, completely equipped for Terrans. This was not unusual in
the Galaxy, but what was unusual in such a modern city was that Manning
had not seen another Terran since they'd left the Ambassador on the
surface. He commented on this to Xelia.

"Yes," Xelia said soberly. "We have provided many typically Terran
conveniences, but very few of your race ever comes here. Those who do
mostly react as your Ambassador. Would you care to join me in a drink?
We also have Terran beverages."

"I'll have whatever you're having," Manning said. He was always
inclined to try native drinks despite a couple of bad experiences.
Once, on Praesepe I, it had taken two days to recover his voice after
such an adventure.

Xelia ordered the drinks over a plain audiphone attached to the wall of
the room.

"No visiphone?" Manning asked.

Xelia shook his head. "We have no visicasts at all. I suppose that
eventually we'll be getting sets since the Federation visicasts
will now be beamed to us, but we Regulusians have always preferred
actually being present at our entertainment instead of watching some
reproduction of it." He smiled slightly. "We are, of course, considered
backward because of this and because we have never tried to develop
space flight."

A light blinked on the wall and a panel slid open, revealing their
drinks. Xelia took the two glasses and handed one to Manning. It was
filled with a cloudy purple liquid which was rather horrible to look
at but which, Manning discovered, tasted very pleasant. He sipped the
drink and waited for Xelia to speak.

"Since you've never been to Regulus," Xelia said finally, "I should
like to explain something about my people. It has a bearing on the
election and the Acruxian. As you know, our admission to the Federation
was opposed by many, especially the Achernarians. Their feeling is
based on the fact that Achernarians are evolved from various forms
of insect life and there was a time when primitive Regulusians ate
insects. That was, however, many generations ago. The Achernarians
of today are quite different from the insects my ancestors found
so delectable, and we have also changed. The protein life which we
still eat has been carefully bred from a type of insect found only on
Regulus. It is not an intelligent form of life and might be compared to
the cattle you Terrans have bred for food."

Manning nodded. As an insurance investigator he had traveled over
enough of the Galaxy to be familiar with the many prejudices that
existed. "The Achernarians have sent an Ambassador here, haven't they?"
he asked.

"Yes. No one ever sees him, but he's here. Now, Manning, you see we are
hated and feared by a number of life-forms in the Federation. Then you
Terrans--I hope you will forgive me if I speak frankly--are inclined to
view us with something like contempt. The attitude of your Ambassador
is an excellent example. I don't find this attitude in you, Manning,
but it is what we've come to expect from most Terrans. As a result,
there is a lot of anti-Terran, even anti-human, feeling on Regulus, as
well as considerable anti-Federation propaganda."

"Understandable," said Manning. "In fact, it's not even peculiar to
Regulus."

       *       *       *       *       *

At this Xelia nodded. "I was one of the leaders of the movement which
led to Regulus joining the Federation. Not because I believe in
accepting the way we're treated, but because I believe it is necessary
for our own safety. I therefore favor co-operation, without accepting
submission. Because of this, I have long been an object of attack from
the anti-Terran and anti-Federation forces. Which brings us to the
election. I was, as you know, the Republocratic candidate for Senator
from Regulus. The other political parties did not nominate candidates
here and I was the only one running until Dtilla Raishelle declared
himself an independent candidate."

"Dtilla Raishelle? The Acruxian?"

Xelia nodded.

"Tell me one thing," Manning said. "How is it possible for an Acruxian
to run for a Regulusian office? Acrux is not even a part of the
Federation."

"True," Xelia said. "We, however, still have many antiquated laws on
our statute books. In the old days, no one from other planets ever
came to Regulus. So our laws state that anyone who owns property on
Regulus is considered a citizen and may run for political office.
Dtilla Raishelle bought a house when he arrived here a month ago."

"And he is backed by the anti-Terran movement?"

"Completely. His platform is entirely anti-Terran and anti-Achernarian.
From the beginning he had such strong support that I knew it would be
difficult for me to win. Now it is impossible."

"What do you mean?"

"I am no longer a candidate," Xelia said bitterly. His nose had faded
to a pale pink which was almost white. "More of our ancient laws.
Seldom enforced, we have laws which compel candidates to submit to
various physical tests such as walking tightropes, juggling, and
sleight-of-hand. It is also permitted for a candidate to challenge an
opposing candidate to any sort of a personal test, or duel. When this
happens, the loser, if still alive, must automatically withdraw from
the political race. There is no choice. You cannot refuse the challenge
and a loser cannot remain a candidate."

"The Acruxian challenged you to a duel?"

"If you know anything about Acruxians, you know of their fabulous
strength. I had no chance. The duel was held last night in the Shaun
Arena. Dtilla Raishelle is now the only candidate for Regulusian
Senator."

"Can't the Republocrats nominate another candidate?"

"No. It would make no difference if we could. I'm sure no one would
agree to run--otherwise they could declare themselves an independent.
Besides, there is no Regulusian who is a match for an Acruxian and
there would merely be another challenge. That's why I said there would
be little for you to observe."

The more he heard, the more Manning Draco wished he was back in his
own office with nothing more complex to worry about than the vacation
problems of a honeymooning threesome from Sirius. "There is a feeling
on Terra," he said slowly, "that this Acruxian may have more in mind
than merely running for office. As a Senator from Regulus, he could be
a nuisance, but that is all. Do you think he might have something else
in mind?"

"I'm sure of it," Xelia said firmly, "but I have no idea what it is,
I was suspicious of him when he first arrived. I asked our Central
Security to give me complete reports on his movements. There is nothing
in those reports which mean anything--unless he and the Achernarians
are planning something together."

"Why he and the Achernarians?" Manning asked.

"Since arriving here, he has made a number of speeches and has attended
parties which were held for political purposes. These are normal
activities for a candidate. But he has also paid three visits to the
Achernarian Ambassador."

"Okay," Manning said. "I think I'd like to meet this Acruxian."

"That's easily arranged," Xelia said. His tone indicated that he didn't
think the meeting, or anything else, would accomplish much. "There's
a political party tonight--to celebrate the Acruxian's forthcoming
victory, as a matter of fact. You can go as my guest."

"Good," said Manning. He finished his drink. "After I've looked him
over, I'd like to see the reports you had on him. Maybe we can figure
out something. In the meantime, if you don't mind, I think I'll rest."

"Certainly," said Xelia, standing up. "I shall pick you up in about
three hours. I trust you will rest well." He offered his tail for
a brief shaking, then left. It was obvious that he liked Manning
personally but had given up expecting anything that would help the
situation.

Manning stretched out on the bed and went to sleep. He had a hunch that
there might be little sleep between now and the election and he might
as well get what he could.



                                  III


Manning Draco was waiting in the hotel room when Xelia Zon came back
that evening. He had awakened earlier and had dinner in his room so
that he was ready to go. They went down (Xelia insisted it was up) and
climbed into the Regulusian's car.

After a short drive through the city streets, Xelia stopped before an
ornate private home. A formally-attired Regulusian butler met them at
the door and conducted them to the elevator. They dropped down some
ten floors where they were met by another servant. He led them through
a number of well-appointed rooms and out into a splendid underground
garden. It was filled with strange, beautiful flowers and shrubs and
had piped-in sunlight.

The party was well under way, the guests being almost exclusively
Regulusians. While he was not openly insulted, it soon became obvious
that most of those present were anti-Terran. There were only a few who
were friends of Xelia and were consequently friendly toward him.

Almost as soon as they'd entered the garden, Manning had noticed a
group at one end of the garden. There was a creature in the center of
the group, towering over them, who was undoubtedly the Acruxian. He
guessed that Xelia had also caught sight of them, for they were slowly
working toward that end of the garden.

They had just stopped a passing servant and snared two drinks from
his tray, and were walking on toward the one group, when Manning felt
a hand on his arm. "Well," said a husky voice, "this is a pleasant
surprise."

Manning looked around, then did a double-take. At first glance, he
thought she was a Terran. It was only when he looked much closer that
he realized her head was covered with silky blonde fur instead of
hair. But that was the only way in which she differed from a Terran
girl. She had all the other Terran feminine attributes, in the right
places and in the right amounts, adding up to one of the most beautiful
creatures he had ever seen. Her figure was one which would make any man
glad that the styles of 3473 featured a great deal of exposed skin.

"Hello," he said. "Do I know you?"

"No, but you will," she said. Her voice had those husky tones that
for many centuries had sent shivers running down the spines of Terran
males. Her eyes, great golden orbs, seemed to contain the same
quality--a nameless yearning to which men were drawn in the hope that
they could satisfy it. "I had almost given up hope of seeing a fellow
humanoid on this planet when you walked in."

"Fellow humanoid?" Manning said.

She laughed, her voice like sensual music. "I can hardly say a fellow
human, can I? I'm not human, you know."

Manning was trying to place her. There were a number of humanoid races
throughout the Federation, notably the Martians and the Muphridians.
They were remarkably like the humans of Terra, although their origins
were usually quite different, although there was nearly always some one
difference. Quite often, it was the hair. The Muphridians, for example,
had feathers in place of hair. He was sure that this girl was from none
of the places he had visited.

In the meantime, the girl was speaking again. "Xelia Zon," she was
saying, "the least you can do is introduce me to your charming Terran
friend."

"Manning," Xelia said, not especially happily, "this is Velmar Shonda.
Manning Draco."

"What a lovely name," exclaimed the girl. "I may call you Manning, may
I not?"

"You may," Manning said. "Where are you from? I don't think I've ever
met anyone who looked exactly like you."

"I'm from Aldebaran. But from the _third_ planet in the system, if
you please."

Manning had the feeling that there was something about the Aldebaranese
that he should know, but it eluded him. He wondered what she was doing
on Regulus and if it had any bearing on the reason he was there. He
glanced at Xelia Zon and the latter must have seen the question in his
face.

"I don't know what she's doing here," he said, shrugging his shoulders.
"She has been here for about two months, I understand, although this is
only the fourth or fifth time I've seen her."

       *       *       *       *       *

The girl from Aldebaran laughed again. "Your Regulusian friend doesn't
like me," she said. She managed somehow to make "Regulusian" sound
like an unflattering word. "That is why he is so blunt, Manning. But
I am here on a visit, just as you are. I came intending to stay only
a few days, but the natives are so quaint I've stayed longer. I am
what you Terrans call an anthropologist. It has been rather lonely, of
course--but I can see that won't be true after tonight."

Marriage had worked several changes in Manning Draco. He loved Vega
and liked being married to her. He had every intention of remaining
faithful to her, not because the Terran tradition was as strong as it
had once been but because he believed that a life with her could be
complete. At the same time, he was a normal enough man to be flattered
by Velmar's attitude and to have a certain amount of response to it.

"By the way," she said, "have you met the Acruxian who is here? Dtilla
Raishelle?"

"We were just on our way to meet him," Manning said.

"Oh, let me introduce you," she said, urging him forward with her hand
on his arm. "He is such a fascinating character."

"I can hardly wait," Manning said dryly. But he went forward under her
urging and Xelia Zon kept pace with them.

As they neared the group which contained the Acruxian, Manning Draco
controlled that part of his mind which worked in front of the secondary
shield, so that it would seem that he was nothing more than another
curious Terran. He knew that the Acruxian would probably try a brief
mental probe and if his first response was no more than that he would
probe no farther and so would not discover the secondary shield.

Velmar Shonda cleared a way through the little group until they stood
in front of the Acruxian. "Manning," she said, "I'd like you to meet
the distinguished Regulusian candidate for the Assembly of the Stars,
the future Senator from Regulus, Dtilla Raishelle. Senator Dtilla, this
is Manning Draco of Terra."

As he'd expected, Manning felt the mental power of the Acruxian nibble
briefly at his thoughts. Then apparently satisfied, it withdrew.

"I am deeply honored," the Acruxian said in a booming voice, extending
a tentacle. Like all Acruxians, he had difficulty in pronouncing the
letter "r" but otherwise his Terran was impeccable.

"The pleasure is all mine," returned Manning. He reached out and
grasped the proffered tentacle, immediately raising his hand high in
the air in the Acruxian manner of shaking hands (or shaking tentacles,
to be exact).

"Ah," said the Acruxian, "you are familiar with the customs of my
people?"

"Only to a small degree," Manning said modestly, not bothering to add
that he had learned all he knew that afternoon from an encyclotape and
this was the first time he had ever seen anyone from Acrux.

Dtilla Raishelle was a typical Acruxian. He stood seven feet tall,
his huge cylindrical body supported on three sturdy legs. His body
was dark gray in color and was bare except for a dark green fringed
skirt, which was an Acruxian ceremonial dress. A holster, attached to
the skirt, held a ceremonial tri-blast.[4] His head was a round knob,
pale red, perfectly smooth except for a mouth opening and inverted ears
which were covered by fine, sensitive hairs. He had four tentacles, two
at waist level and two at shoulder level. Two eye-stalks reared several
inches above his head.[5]

[Footnote 4: The tri-blast was a three-barrelled blade-gun peculiar to
Acrux. It was used in all ceremonial duels and was designed to amputate
all three legs of the opponent.]

[Footnote 5: Although, as this description shows, somewhat of a sport
model, Acruxians are related to Rigelians. As more ancient readers will
recognize, Dtilla Raishelle was, therefore, a distant cousin of Dzanku
Dzanku, the Rigelian who was for so long the deadly enemy of Manning
Draco. It had taken Manning a full year to best Dzanku and get rid of
him in a Time-Fracture which made it impossible for Dzanku to return
short of a century.]

       *       *       *       *       *

At the moment, the eye-stalks were sharply inclined toward Manning and
there was an expression of suspicion in them. As the Acruxian very well
knew, few ordinary Terrans knew anything about Acruxians. It had been
many generations since anything but a merciless cold war had existed
between Acrux and its satellites and the more dominant planets of the
Federation.

At this moment, Manning spoke a few words in the quick, liquid Acruxian
language--a ceremonial greeting of respect which he had learned that
afternoon from a linguatape.

"You speak my language, too," Dtilla Raishelle exclaimed. His voice
indicated pleasure, but the suspicion in his eyes deepened.

"Just that one sentence," Manning said. "My father was once
space-wrecked near your home and I guess he picked up those few things
which he taught me."

Once more he felt the Acruxian probe his surface thought, but he was
prepared for it and the memory there was just as he said. The Acruxian
suddenly relaxed, although there was still a touch of suspicion in
his eyes. Just enough, Manning hoped. He didn't want to precipitate a
contest with the Acruxian, but he did want him to be enough on guard so
that he might later make a move which would help trap him.

It was then that Manning noticed the unusually large piece of luggage
which sat on the ground beside Dtilla's feet. It was at least three
and a half feet long and probably two feet high. It was made of some
shining metallic plastic. There were tentacle-loops along the top for
easy carrying.

"What's that?" Manning asked. "You're not leaving, are you--just when
everyone says your election is a sure thing?"

"No," Dtilla Raishelle said. He hesitated and Manning could guess that
he was trying to decide what sort of answer would be believed. Manning
would have liked to try a swift mental probe, but knew it might be a
serious mistake. Still, without even trying, he could feel mental waves
of hatred which must be coming from the Acruxian. He was sure they
weren't coming from the Regulusians or the Aldebaranese--he'd already
discovered that she had a natural shield to telepathy. That left only
Dtilla, unless--he quickly suppressed the thought for fear the Acruxian
might catch it.

"This," Dtilla continued, indicating the box, "contains many of the
rare, delicate perfumes of my home planet. I believe they are too
subtle for most other life-forms, but they help to make my stay away
from home more comfortable." His eye-stalks turned to survey the
Regulusians. "I don't believe that I ever offered the details to you,
my friends, having only told you that it was a custom of my people. I
am sorry if my previous reticence has offended you in any way."

"No, no," exclaimed several Regulusians.

"Well," Manning said, "we mustn't interrupt your conversation with your
friends any longer--"

"Think nothing of it," Dtilla Raishelle said, waving his tentacles. It
was obvious that he was still mildly curious about Manning. "I have not
seen many Terrans here. Are you on a business trip?"

Even as he was speaking, Manning decided to answer with part of the
truth. He believed that he had convinced the Acruxian that he was a
fairly ordinary Terran; now it was time to let him know that even so he
might be an enemy.

"In a way," Manning said. "I'm here for the elections. As an
observer--although I don't suppose there will be much to observe."

"An observer, eh? But not to interfere, I hope. I believe that is
illegal."

"I wouldn't think of interfering," Manning said. "I shall probably sit
on the sidelines and hope that the best man wins."

"Inasmuch as I am the only remaining candidate in the Senatorial
race," the Acruxian said, and his amusement was evident in the
agitation of his eye-stalks, "I believe the identity of the
best--er--man is a foregone conclusion."

"Maybe," Manning said. "But there's an old Terran proverb--which I just
invented--that says there's many an obstacle between the loot and the
tentacle. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to devote more of my time
to this young lady."

Pulling Velmar Shonda with him, Manning Draco walked away, conscious
that the Acruxian was watching him with renewed interest.

"I salute your going away," Dtilla Raishelle called after him.[6]

[Footnote 6: This was only an approximate translation of the Acruxian
expression Dtilla had in mind. In the original, it was one of those
double-meaning phrases so common to Acrux in which Dtilla was saying
goodby and at the same time implying that Manning was leaving because
he recognized his own inferior status. Dr. Homer Aybar, who has done
the only Dictionary of Acruxian Idioms, speaks of such phrases as "the
insult elegant."]

As they left the Acruxian, Xelia Zon joined another group of
Regulusians, while Manning and Velmar walked on and sat down beneath
one of the umbrella-like shrubs.

"You shouldn't have been so hard on Dtilla," Velmar said. "He's really
a fascinating creature and terribly brilliant and talented."

"I don't doubt it," Manning said. "Why are you defending him? Are you
his girl friend?"

"Goodness, no," Velmar Shonda said, laughing. "I admire creatures like
Dtilla and I confess I find his mind very stimulating. But that's
all. We Aldebaranese are--constructed very much like Terrans and when
it comes to the more intimate relationships in life, I much prefer a
handsome Terran--like you."

This was a new experience for Manning. In the past, he had always met
such advances more than half way. He knew what to do when a woman said
no; he'd never learned how to say no himself.

"I--I'm married," he said defensively.

"I like married men," Velmar Shonda declared. "Then, too, they are not
so apt to become all squishy if there's a slight accident, and insist
on marrying you."

"Er--" said Manning, which was not a brilliant beginning, but was all
he could think of at the moment. Fortunately, he didn't have to think
any further for Xelia Zon arrived at that moment.

"I'm sorry," he said politely, "but I think we'd better leave, Manning.
You remember you wanted to make one other stop before we returned to
the hotel."

"Of course," Manning exclaimed. He got to his feet, relieved, and his
aplomb returned with the rescue. He looked down and grinned at the
Aldebaranese. "I'm sorry, honey, but I have to run along. I'll see you
soon."

"Sooner than you expect," she answered, and it seemed that the strange
hunger in her eyes was stronger. "Goodby--for now."



                                  IV


At the offices of the Regulusian Central Security, Xelia Zon spoke to
an official who was also a friend of his and a few minutes later they
were in a small room with the complete reports on Dtilla Raishelle.
Manning read them rapidly, but thoroughly.

"What's this?" he asked, stopping with a finger pointing to one
paragraph. "Something about Dtilla and the missing Regulusians."

"It was a false lead," Xelia said. "For a time, they thought they had
something on the Acruxian, but it didn't work out."

"But what was it?" Manning insisted.

"A strange thing," said Xelia, frowning. "During the past six weeks
or so a number of Regulusians--ten of them to be exact--have vanished
mysteriously. No trace of them has been found at all. At first, it was
thought that perhaps the Acruxian had murdered them, but then some of
them vanished at times when he couldn't possibly have had anything to
do with them."

"Maybe they were just murdered," Manning murmured, going back to
reading the reports.

"Not unless they were murdered by outsiders," Xelia said. "We have no
crime of any sort on Regulus. There has never been a murder committed
by a Regulusian in the history of our race."

"Really?" Manning said, momentarily interested. "No wonder you have
trouble fitting into the Federation." He bent over the reports again.

There was nothing in them that Xelia hadn't already told him. Dtilla
Raishelle had made speeches and gone to political parties and he had
made three visits to the Achernarian Ambassador. The rest of the time
he had stayed in the house he'd purchased.

"I had hoped," Manning said as they handed the reports back, "that
I'd find some reference to that piece of luggage Dtilla had with him
tonight. I wonder if he carries it with him every time he goes out."

"He's had it every time I've seen him, but that doesn't cover all his
activities," Xelia said. He looked at his friend, the official.

"The ones who made these reports," the official said, "are not on duty
tonight. You might return tomorrow and ask them, if you like."

Manning nodded and turned away. Xelia Zon joined him and they left the
building.

"Why are you so interested in the Acruxian's luggage?" Xelia asked.

"Because he was lying about why he had it with him," Manning said. "I'm
sure of that. I think he offered a story which he thought I would be
willing to accept. Therefore, the luggage must in some way be important
to his scheme, whatever it is."

"If you think it important," Xelia said, "perhaps we could trick him
away from it long enough to let a Central Security locksmith get at
it. We have some clever ones."

"Pick the lock, Xelia? I thought you Regulusians knew nothing about
crime."

"It would be no crime, done by an official in the name of Security,"
Xelia explained. "Shall we try it?"

Manning shook his head. "It would only make him step up his schedule if
it failed--and I'm sure it would. I believe that your locksmiths are
clever, but I understand that Acruxians have a way with locks which is
unmatched in the universe. They have a small tendril on one tentacle
which permits them to read any lock. Not only can they pick locks
anywhere, but they are able to build such intricate locks that they
defy picking by anyone else."

Xelia was silent until they had almost reached the hotel. He seemed
embarrassed when he finally did speak.

"I like you, Manning," he said, "so I hesitate to mention this--but
aren't you exceeding your authority as a political observer? I
know there are stiff penalties for interfering in any way with an
election--which is what Dtilla Raishelle might claim--and I'd hate to
see you get in trouble."

"Thanks, Xelia," Manning said. "No, I'm not exceeding it yet. As of
this moment, I'm just curious and _that_ hasn't as yet been
outlawed. But I would like to know what our Acruxian is up to."

"So would I," murmured Xelia.

       *       *       *       *       *

They arrived at the hotel and started through the lobby. They were
almost to the elevator when they heard the desk clerk calling.

"Mr. Draco," the clerk said, "there was someone here to see you. It
was rather peculiar--he insisted on asking all sorts of questions as
to where you were and when you'd be back, but I could have sworn that
he wasn't really listening to my answers. Even so, I had quite a time
getting rid of him."

"Did he leave his name?" Manning asked.

The clerk nodded. "Chaun Cla, of this city. He said that he would call
again."

Manning looked at Xelia. The latter nodded. "I know the name. He is
one of those who has been supporting Dtilla Raishelle and was with him
there in the garden tonight."

Manning grinned. "I thought we might expect something. Dtilla doesn't
think I represent much of a threat, but he doesn't want to take any
chances. They're up to something."

"Should I call my friend at Central Security and ask him to keep a
check on Chaun Cla?"

"It might be a good idea," said Manning. "I'll go on up to the room.
Come up when you're through."

"I'll come _down_ when I'm through," Xelia said with a grin.

Manning laughed and went to the elevator. Arriving on his floor, he
went down the corridor keeping a careful watch, but he saw nothing out
of order. He listened at the door of his room for a minute, but heard
nothing. There was some faint exotic perfume in the corridor.

He unlocked his door and went in. Velmar Shonda, the Aldebaranese
beauty, was sitting in the room, amusement in her golden eyes.

"Hello, Manning," she said huskily. "I told you I'd see you sooner than
you expected."

"How did you get in here?" Manning asked.

She shrugged. "One of the bellhops. They are susceptible to feminine
wiles and money. I used both."

She stood up and came close to him. Her perfume washed over him like
waves of desire.

"Manning," she said softly, "I know that most Terran men like their
females to be receptive rather than aggressive. But I have no patience
for the tricks of Terran females. I like you--why shouldn't I say so? I
have been here two months without any male of my kind--"

She leaned closer to him, her breasts almost brushing his chest.
Her parted lips were a deep red and he could glimpse the white teeth
between them. Her eyes were like melting gold--plus that something else
which was almost familiar, but not quite.

"Manning--" she said, knowing that he understood and that the rest
didn't have to be said.

       *       *       *       *       *

Although he never admitted it to anyone but himself, it was a struggle.
If Xelia hadn't been coming to the room, Manning knew that he might not
have had the peculiar strength that it needed to shake his head at what
was being offered.

"Honey," he said as lightly as he could, "you're a beautiful hunk of
woman. Maybe you're in the right room, but it's the wrong time. My
friend will be here any minute."

"Send him away," she said.

"I can't," Manning answered and the regret in his voice wasn't all
pretended. "It's important. He and I have to talk."

She pouted and her yellow eyes seemd to get larger.

"There'll be other times, honey," he said. He didn't know whether he
meant it or not; he did know that he had a feeling that it would be a
mistake to make an enemy of her.

She straightened up and looked at him curiously. "There have not been
many men who shook their heads at Velmar Shonda," she said. Then she
shrugged and some part of the amusement returned to her eyes. "As you
say, for now. But do not keep me waiting too long, Manning."

She was gone, leaving the room so silently that he was almost unaware
of her going. But the air of the room was still heavy with her scent.
Manning dropped heavily into the chair and loosened the collar of his
one-piece suit.

"Whew," he said.

The scent was still strong in the room when Xelia Zon arrived. Manning
saw the fingers of his nose[7] twitch but he made no reference to the
perfume.

[Footnote 7: There was considerable misunderstanding between Terrans
and Regulusians when they first met. For a long time the Terrans
thought that every Regulusian they met was thumbing his nose at them.]

"My friend will see that the activities of Chaun Cla are checked," he
said.

Manning nodded. "Okay," he said. He grinned at the Regulusian. "I guess
I ought to make arrangements for you to chaperon me day and night while
I'm here. It might be safer."

Xelia Zon pretended to first notice the scent of perfume. "Velmar
Shonda?" he asked.

"In person," said Manning. "Just being in the same room with her is
like a post graduate course in seduction. If she's a fair example, no
wonder Aldebaran industry is so far behind the rest of the Federation."

"I am not familiar with the Aldebaran civilization," Xelia said
solemnly, but there was a discernible twinkle in his eyes.

"There's very little exchange between Aldebaran and the rest of the
Federation and I'm beginning to understand why," Manning said. His face
grew thoughtful. "You know, Xelia, the actions of Chaun Cla were like
a delaying tactic. Do you suppose it was to help her get into my room?
Could she be working for Dtilla Raishelle?"

"She might be. I believe that she has been very friendly with the
Acruxian. And they did arrive here at about the same time."

"I thought of that," Manning said. "Still, why go through all that
business with the desk clerk? She said that she bribed a bellhop to let
her in and I think she was telling the truth. Maybe she is working for
Dtilla, but Chaun Cla must have been covering up for something else."
He was silent a moment, then got to his feet.

"I've just thought of something," he said quietly. "Maybe it was a
three-way job. Velmar Shonda was in my room when I arrived. I assure
you that was enough to keep me from thinking about anything else. Maybe
that was the point."

"What do you mean?"

"Let's search the room. And be careful, Xelia. There are some nasty
species in the Galaxy and some of them may be concealed in here."

       *       *       *       *       *

They covered every inch of the room without finding anything that
shouldn't have been there. Although he hadn't been aware of working
faster than usual, Manning was breathing hard and there was a strange
ringing in his ears as he dropped into a chair.

"Nothing," he said. "I don't get it."

"Maybe--maybe--" Xelia Zon seemed to be having trouble getting his
words out and he was clawing at his neck.

As he watched the Regulusian, Manning realized that his own breath
was getting shorter instead of improving now that he was resting. He
struggled to his feet and crossed the room. The effort was almost too
much, but he made it to the door and flung it open. He could almost
feel the air pressure going up again.

There was something clinging to the other side of the door, but Manning
ignored it for the moment. He leaned against the wall of the room and
gratefully sucked air into his lungs. Across the room, Xelia Zon was
doing the same, his nose slowly turning to its normal color.

"That was a close one," Manning said, finally straightening up. "A
little more and I might not have been able to reach the door."

Xelia Zon's gaze was riveted on the door. "What's that?" he asked
pointing.

The thing on the door looked like a huge balloon covered with short
fur. It was perfectly round, perhaps two feet in diameter, and at first
glance seemed to have no appendages.

Manning looked at it with interest. "I never saw one before," he said,
"but I suddenly remember hearing about it on the encyclotape. Come over
here and look at it."

Xelia Zon joined him as he bent over to look at it. On closer
examination, they could see that there was a small mouth which was
glued to the keyhole. Even as they watched, the mouth muscles relaxed
and the ball dropped slowly. It bounced on the floor once and then
began floating out into the corridor. Manning reached out and grabbed
it. He held it by the short fur and the ball slowly revolved as though
the round, pursed mouth was searching.

"What is it?" Xelia asked again.

"An Acruxian pet," Manning said. "It's native to Acrux and every
Acruxian has at least one for a pet. Normally, they fill themselves
with just enough air to float around. But if they're removed from
Acrux, they become ravenous for air.[8] Only they can't suck up enough
unless they find some sort of container with a hole about the size of
its mouth. I guess these modern, air-tight rooms are perfect for them."

[Footnote 8: The _Heliumitis Acruxa_ is a small animal indigenous
to the planets in the system of Acrux. It is a very simple organism,
deriving all of its nourishment from air. Normally it keeps itself
inflated to about a foot in diameter, constantly drawing in enough air
to feed itself and to maintain that size. But if it is removed from
Acrux, it immediately becomes obsessed with the desire to return and
spends all of its time trying to obtain enough air to increase its size
to the point where it can escape the gravity of whatever planet it is
on. One _Heliumitis_ has been known to create a complete vacuum
in a space ship within a period of three hours and the destruction of
at least one ship and its entire crew is known to have been so caused.
In the early days, when Acrux was first discovered, a number of these
creatures were taken to Terra. Immediately afterward there was an
epidemic of flat tires on surface-cars and it was two weeks before it
was discovered that the damage was due to the animals. Since that time,
their possession has been outlawed on Terra, although in every other
respect they are harmless.]

"A pet?" Xelia said. He shivered. "That's not my idea of a pet. It
could have killed us."

"I think that was the idea," Manning said. He bounced the
_Heliumitis_ on the floor like a basketball and caught it. "This,
however, is about the only circumstance under which it would try to
kill us, so we shouldn't blame it too much."

"Dtilla or Velmar Shonda?"

"Maybe both. No--it couldn't have been Velmar. The door was open when
she left and remained open until you arrived. Besides," he added dryly,
"she couldn't have been carrying it. She had no place of concealment
this large. It must have been Dtilla or one of his friends. Probably
hid on this floor, maybe in another room, and waited until we were in
here. And that's probably the explanation of Chaun Cla. He was giving
somebody the chance to sneak up here in advance."

"What about that thing?" asked Xelia, indicating the ball. "Hadn't we
better turn it over to Central Security?"

"Why?" Manning asked. "It's harmless enough. That mouth is the only
surface organ it has and it doesn't consume anything but air. You
Regulusians drive surface-cars--you must have places where you can put
air in your tires."

"Of course, but--"

"That's it, then," Manning said. "We'll take it down and attach it to
an air hose. When it's had enough air, it'll float away and we'll never
see it again."

"But if Dtilla did this thing, shouldn't he be arrested?"

"On what charge?"

"Attempted murder. You said yourself that he must have done this."

"I'm sure he did," Manning said, "but we wouldn't have a chance of
proving it. The most we could prove is that he was careless in letting
his pet get away. Since this is the sort of pet every Acruxian has, we
couldn't prove that he brought it to Regulus for a sinister purpose.
Even though a Federation court would lean on our side, Dtilla could
just laugh us off. And it would be a big mistake."

"How?"

"Since we couldn't prove anything, having him arrested would do nothing
except give Acrux an excuse for declaring war against the Federation.
If we handed Dtilla to the Federation, they'd drop him like a hot
rocket."

"But why?" persisted Xelia. "Surely the Federation could win any war
with Acrux and her satellites."

"Maybe," Manning said. "But I think the government is afraid that
there might not be any Federation. You yourself have spoken about how
the Achernarians feel about Regulusians. Well, you can multiply that
over and over. Capellans hate the Polluxians, the Procyonese hate the
Arcturusians, Vegans hate the Achernarians--and there are groups on
Terra who hate everyone except themselves. All of this could make some
little clambake.... Well, let's take bouncing-boy here downstairs for
his airing."



                                   V


Manning Draco was up early the following morning. After breakfast in
his room, he went to the lobby and arranged to hire a car and driver.
He knew that Xelia would have taken him anywhere he wanted to go, but
he had at least one visit to make which would be more successful if he
were alone.

When the rented car arrived, he directed the driver to take him to the
Achernarian Embassy.

It was considerably larger than any other building he had seen,
extending back from the street almost twice as far as the average
Regulusian building.

Having the driver wait, Manning stood in front of a viewing plate and
requested an interview with Seero Sna, Ambassador from Achernar. He
identified himself as a political observer from the government and
tried to imply that he was completely non-partisan. After a moment the
door clicked open and a voice invited him to take the elevator to the
lowest floor.

In terms of storeys, the building was also larger than the average.
Manning counted twelve floors before the elevator stopped. As he
stepped out, a voice asked him to walk through the house and into the
garden.

It was then that he discovered that in one respect the house was
smaller than he'd thought. From the street level it had seemed to be
twice as long as the ordinary house; actually it was narrow, extending
back the length of one room. Beyond that was the garden.

The garden was the biggest surprise of all. For a moment after stepping
into it he could have sworn he was on the Achernarian planet. It was
filled with the flowering shrubs and trees native to Achernar and
the air was heavy with the scent of the blossoms. Above, it extended
for the full twelve storeys. At the very top there was a transparent
container in which there was a small nuclear machine creating subatomic
energy. It was an exact duplicate of the Achernarian sun, built to
scale so that the heat from it felt the same as if he had been standing
under the real thing on Achernar. Although he could not look directly
at it, its appearance seemed to be in perfect scale, too. Small
artificial clouds floated lazily over the garden.

"Well, what do you want?" an irritable voice asked. This time there
was no evidence of amplification, so he knew it was coming directly
from the Ambassador. He looked around until he located the Achernarian
stretched out in a sort of hammock beneath one of the trees.

       *       *       *       *       *

Achernarians belong to the Hymenoptera order. That is to say that they
are bees, in much the same sense that Terrans are primates. But quite
different from any bees which Terrans had seen prior to space flight.
The average Achernarian--and the Ambassador was considered an average
political-type Achernarian[9]--was about two feet from end to end. He
could walk upright or in the manner usually expected of insect life,
being equipped with four feet, of which the two front feet could serve
as an extra pair of hands when he chose to walk upright. What had once
been the front feet, that is the third pair, had evolved into a pair
of small hands with double thumbs, so that the Achernarians were the
cleverest craftsmen in the Federation.

[Footnote 9: It is interesting to note that the type of Achernarian who
went in for political life consisted of those who in a more primitive
state would have been known as drones.]

He still had wings although they were no longer strong enough to
support his body. He wore a robe which bore the same gold and brown
markings as his body. It was difficult to tell when he was dressed and
when he was not.

The advantages which evolution had granted the Achernarians had been
accompanied by certain disadvantages. One had been a weakening of their
many-faceted eyes, so that the Ambassador, like most of those from his
planet, wore glasses. What had been gained in intelligence had been
lost in physical strength; in spite of this, they were among the most
ferocious of Federation citizens, the Achernarian soldiers wearing
atomic-powered armor which made them almost invincible.

"Hello," Manning Draco said when he finally located the Ambassador.
"May your day be filled with blossoms." It was a stock expression of
politeness.

"It might be if I weren't interrupted so often," the Ambassador
snapped. It was also normal for Achernarians to be irritable; if Seero
Sna exceeded the norm it was a result of having been sent to Regulus.
"What do you want, Terran?"

"I am here to observe the election," Manning said. "Consequently, I am
interested in the fact that an Acruxian is the sole candidate for the
Senate from here. I understand that this Dtilla Raishelle has called
upon you."

"Yes."

"Why did he come to see you?"

"Because he's an idiot," the Ambassador said waspishly.[10] "On his
first visit, he wanted to arrange a trade agreement with us. He seemed
to be rather proud of a type of blossom grown on his home planet and
thought he could sell them to us. He had a sample with him. It was
horrible. I told him so. Nobody can match the quality of Achernarian
blossoms."

[Footnote 10: It is believed that there was a strain of wasp somewhere
in Seero Sna's family line.]

"That's certainly true," Manning said. "What about his second and third
visits?"

"Same thing," grumbled the Achernarian. "He kept insisting that we
could learn to like their blossoms. I don't know when I've met anyone
so dense."

"Why didn't you report his visits to the Federation?"

"Why should I? If I reported every idiot who approaches me, I'd get
nothing else done."

"Didn't it occur to you that he might have been trying to get some
other information out of you? Perhaps something inimical to the
Federation or to Achernar?"

"Nonsense," snapped the Ambassador. "He was very nice. He was
especially sympathetic to my position on this accursed planet. He'll
probably make a very fine Senator."

"No doubt," Manning said dryly. "Did you happen to notice if he were
carrying some sort of luggage? A rather large box, in fact."

       *       *       *       *       *

The Ambassador thought a moment, crushing a handful of blossoms and
waving them near his face. "I believe he was carrying some sort of
covered box."

"Covered?"

"Yes."

"You're sure?"

"Of course, I'm sure. I'm always sure. What's so important about a
box?" He looked up at Manning with a shrewd expression in his eyes.
"You think, perhaps, he's carrying around a ballot box which he'll
switch for the official one on election day? If so, I trust you will
remember that this is a practice which was started on Terra and,
therefore, he could have learned none of the fine points of this art
from me."

"I'll remember," Manning said, grinning. "By the way, don't you have
any servants?"

"Certainly I have servants. Fifty of them, if you must know."

"Why don't they answer the door and conduct visitors to you?"

"Do you think I would endanger their lives?" demanded the Ambassador.
"Do you realize that these Regulusians are barbarians? Why, they've
always eaten my kind and we Achernarians are not fooled by their
claim that they've given up this horrible practice. They should never
have been admitted to the Federation and I'm warning you--you may
report this to Terra--that my planet is fully prepared to protect its
citizens. An act of aggression will not go unanswered."

"Sure," Manning said soothingly. "Say, do you have a visiscreen here?"

"Of course, I do. Do you think I'm a primitive? I'm tired of your
questions, Terran. Go away. But don't forget to tell your Regulusian
friends what I've said. Not a single act of aggression will go
unanswered. Any attack on me, or my staff, will mean war."

"I'll tell them," Manning said. He turned and walked back across the
garden.

"Be sure the door locks after you," the Achernarian called after him.
"These Regulusian hoodlums would love to find me vulnerable."

Manning nodded and continued on his way without answering. He knew from
experience that there was no point in arguing with an Achernarian. Once
one of them got an idea, it took more than words to change it.

Out on the street again, he climbed into the car and asked the driver
to take him to the spot where he and Xelia had come below the surface
on the day before.

Again he had the driver wait and he took the elevator up to the kiosk.
A moment later, he was in his ship.

First, he put through a visicall to his office on Terra. After finding
out that business was going on as usual, he told his secretary some
things he wanted her to send him immediately by carrier-jet. He turned
on the receiver-beam in his ship and then put through a call to J.
Barnaby Cruikshank over a tight-beam.

"Well, Manning, my boy," J. Barnaby said when the connection was made.
"Everything all settled, eh? I knew you--"

"Everything isn't all settled," Manning interrupted. He quickly
sketched in what he had learned, leaving out his guesses. He also left
out any mention of Velmar Shonda.

"Then why are you wasting time calling me?" demanded J. Barnaby. "Don't
you realize that tomorrow is election day? Get on the ball, boy."

"I want you on it with me," Manning said dryly. "There are a couple of
little things I want you to do."

"What?"

"I suppose you want this Acruxian handled with soft gloves?"

"Absolutely," J. Barnaby said. "I don't care what you do to him, you
understand, as long as nothing can be proved against us. But it's
imperative that the government not be involved."

"Sure," Manning said. "I suppose it would be all right if I went to
prison, or something like that, as long as you're in the clear. Some
day, J. Barnaby, I'm going to let you stew in the juice you're always
cooking up for me.... What if I can have the Acruxian arrested?"

"No," J. Barnaby said explosively. "Unless he's caught red-handed in
the commission of a very serious crime, he must not be arrested. It
would have to be something so serious that the Acruxian government
would have to refuse to recognize him. Any intent will not be enough."

"Okay, then. I want you to send a complete visicast crew here at
once. They should be here in time to be set up and ready to make a
Federation-wide visicast by eight tonight. Then you'll have to clear
the time and see to it there are a number of spot announcements
concerning a special visicast. We want as wide an audience as possible,
especially on Achernar."

"I guess that can be done. But it better be worth it. There'll be hell
to pay if all that preparation is made and nothing comes of it."

"Something will come of it," Manning promised. "Oh, another thing, J.
Barnaby. You have any objections to me running for the Senate?"

"What? What kind of a hold-up is this? You know very well that the
party has made all of its nominations long ago. The elections take
place tomorrow--"

"Watch your blood pressure," Manning said with a grin. "I meant if I
become a candidate for the Senate from Regulus."

"What about Xelia Zon?" J. Barnaby asked.

"He's no longer in the race. This is part of my plan."

J. Barnaby's face was still flushed with suspicion. "All right," he
said. "But don't get any ideas--"

"How you talk," Manning said and cut the connection.

       *       *       *       *       *

Next he put in a call to Vega. He had her hold young Barnaby up to the
screen and listened in delight to the gurgling sounds which seemed
perfectly intelligible to him. Then he told her that he'd probably be
home some time the following day.

"That'll be wonderful, darling," Vega said. "We miss you.... Manning?"

"Mmmm?"

"No girls?"

"No girls," he said, feeling a twinge of guilt about the Aldebaranese.

She blew him a kiss and the connection was broken.

Manning knew that he would have to wait almost two hours before the
carrier-jet would arrive. He dug through his library and found an
encyclotape on Aldebaran. He put it on and turned the switch, adjusting
the tape so as to skip the physical description of the system.

"... The people of Aldebaran Three are evolved from one of the two
thousand known forms of the order of Chiroptera. Unlike those found in
other parts of the Federation, however, they have become completely
humanoid in the process of evolution. They have retained none of the
physical characteristics of their order or genus, although many of
their habits are still related to those of their primitive ancestors.
It is believed that the Aldebaranese of the third planet are descended
from the genus _Phyllostomatidae_ since they are almost entirely
fruit eaters. Judged by human standards, they are quite attractive, the
females being especially beautiful. They seem to be sexually attracted
to humans and other humanoid races and there are records of a number of
mutually satisfactory unions. The Aldebaranese of the fourth planet are
quite different in--"

Manning cut off the switch. He had been curious about Velmar Shonda,
but she came from the third planet and there was no point in listening
to the dry, academic description of her cousins on the other planets.
He replaced the encyclotape with a musictape and settled back to wait
for the carrier-jet.



                                  VI


Two hours later, a light glowed on the instrument panel of the _Alpha
Actuary_, indicating that the carrier had come to rest in the
receiver-lock. Manning waited a few minutes, then opened the inner
door to the lock. He opened the carrier and took the two small packages
it contained. One was a completely sealed canister which buzzed when
he held it up to his ear. The other was a large bouquet of flowers,
fresh-sealed so that they would keep indefinitely.

Putting the two packages in a hand-pack, Manning left the ship and went
back to the kiosk. When he reached the underground level, he ordered
the driver back to the hotel.

There were two people waiting in the lobby for him. One of them was
Velmar Shonda. Her yellow eyes lighted up at the sight of him.

"Manning," she exclaimed, coming to meet him. She put her hand over
his and the touch of her fingers was enough to make a man forget his
good intentions. "I came to ask you to take me to a party. Afterward, I
thought we could drive out in the country. There's a wonderful little
place I've found and I'd like to share it with you."

Manning was acutely aware of her nearness, of the warm scent washing
over him. He was also aware of Xelia Zon waiting in the background and
the Memory of a voice saying, "No girls." A small part of him wanted to
go with the Aldebaranese, while a greater part of him knew it would be
trading larger happiness for a desire of the moment. He shook his head.

"Sorry, honey," he said, feeling as if he'd been saying nothing else.
"Xelia Zon is waiting for me."

For a brief minute a new and harder expression crept into her golden
eyes. "You're a strange man, Manning--" she said--"or a strong one."

"What do you mean?"

"I meant it as a challenge," she said provocatively.

When her meaning penetrated, Manning laughed. "I got news for you,
sweetheart," he said, "but it'll have to wait. Run along now."

He watched the provocative swing of her hips as she walked away. Then
he turned and joined Xelia Zon.

"You seem to be very popular," Xelia said dryly. "I, too, have been
waiting for you. You have been busy?"

"I went up to the ship to call my wife." Manning grinned. "To assure
her that I was resisting temptation. Now, I'd like to go talk to the
Security officers who have been trailing Dtilla Raishelle."

Xelia Zon's tail twitched questioningly, but he said nothing as he
led the way to his car. They drove directly to the Central Security
offices, where Manning spent the next hour talking to the two officials
who had followed the Acruxian since he landed on the planet. After
considerable prodding, they did remember that his box had been covered
each time he'd called on the Achernarian Ambassador. They couldn't
remember having seen it covered at any other time.

       *       *       *       *       *

When they left Central Security, Manning asked Xelia to take him to the
nearest Regulusian real estate office. After listening patiently to a
long sales talk on the advantages of the better residential sections,
Manning bought a house. He gave the agent a certified credit-draft and
they left.

"How long," he asked Xelia, "will it be before the purchase of the
house will be officially registered?"

"Probably within a few minutes. He'll make an official deposit of the
transfer as quickly as he can for fear you'll change your mind--since
he charged you about twenty per cent more than the property is worth.
As soon as the deposit is made, the registry is flashed in all realty
offices throughout the planet and you'll be recognized as a resident of
Regulus. But why?"

"I want to become a candidate for the Regulusian Senate seat," Manning
said. "How do I go about this?"

"Why?" asked the astonished Xelia. "Tomorrow is election day. Even
if you could overcome my people's antipathy to Terrans, there isn't
enough time to reach all the voters. You forget that we have no
visicasting system."

"I could get enough votes if I were the only candidate."

"You're going to challenge Dtilla Raishelle?"

"Something like that," Manning admitted. "Actually, whether I'm elected
or not is only a by-product. How do I become a candidate?"

"Well," Xelia said, "there are several ways. Let's see...." He raised
one hand to glance at the finger-time. "One method is to have a
supporter declare your intention at any organized political meeting.
There is one being held very shortly at the home of Brono Pia."

"Do you think Dtilla Raishelle will be there?"

"Probably. Brono Pia is one of his supporters. But--but, Manning, you
can't be serious about this. You must know that no Terran has a chance
against an Acruxian. Do you have a plan?"

"Of sorts," Manning said. "I think I know what is in Dtilla's precious
box and it isn't perfume even though it smells. And I think I know his
plan."

"What?"

"It's simply a matter of knowing the value of _p_ to the _k_
power," Manning said, grinning.[11] Obviously he was not going to say
any more. "Now, let's go to the party. Will you be my supporter and
declare my intentions?"

[Footnote 11: Manning Draco had arrived at his conclusions by applying
the well-known Pascal and Fermat equation concerning probabilities.
This, you will remember, runs:

p^k = n!/(n-k)! k! p^k q^{n-k}

For ordinary purposes, this equation is quite easy to use, but it is
another matter to use it to discover the contents of a mysterious box
and the purpose for which it is intended. Figuring _n!_ (not to
mention (_n-k_) and _k!_) is quite a chore even for Manning
Draco.]

"All right," Xelia said glumly, turning his car around.

To Manning's unpracticed eye, the house to which they went looked
exactly like the one they had gone to the day before. Again they were
met by a butler who escorted them to an elevator and when they reached
the lower floor they were met by another servant who led them to a
garden with piped-in sunlight. There seemed to be the same crowd there,
clustered in little groups. He caught a glimpse of Velmar Shonda, who
interrupted her conversation to stare at him with her searching golden
eyes, and at one end there was Dtilla Raishelle, surrounded by admiring
Regulusians.

The Acruxian caught sight of them as they entered the garden and
waved a tentacle in their direction. There was nothing in his manner
to indicate that he had made an attempt to eliminate Manning and had
failed.

"He seems to have taken last night's failure calmly," Xelia said,
keeping his voice down. "You know, I was sure that he'd try again
before this."

       *       *       *       *       *

Manning shook his head. "According to the encyclotape, Acruxian
psychology doesn't work that way. They're very apt to make some clever
attempt at assassination over the slightest suspicion that you're an
enemy, but if that fails--and it doesn't very often--they believe it
constitutes a judgment from their gods and then they sit back and wait
for you to make the next move. When you do, they're usually more than
ready and they seldom fail on the second try--which then proves that
the gods have changed their mind. So Dtilla is waiting to see what I
intend to do. If you'll go make the announcement, I'll stroll over and
try to oblige him."

Leaving Xelia, Manning strolled across the garden, being sure to give
wide berth to Velmar. He moved leisurely, trying to time his movements
according to Xelia's progress.

"May your day be fulfilled," the Acruxian called out as Manning drew
near.

"And yours," Manning returned politely. Glancing around, he saw Xelia
and another Regulusian, who was obviously the host, going to a small
stand in the garden. Manning thrust his way through the group that
stood around Dtilla Raishelle. As he offered his hand, he glanced
down and made sure that the same box reposed on the ground beside the
Acruxian.

Dtilla reached out and coiled a tentacle about Manning's hand. "It is
a pleasure to meet a political observer so astute," he said. There was
no doubt that he was referring to the night before. If there could have
been he soon removed it. "I shall miss my little pet, but the gods have
truly noted your greatness."

"Thanks," Manning said. Then, still holding Dtilla's tentacle,
he kicked as hard as he could against the side of the box on the
ground.[12]

[Footnote 12: On Acrux, the supreme insult that can be offered an
individual is to strike or in any way attack his personal property,
since Acruxians consider material possessions immeasurably superior to
the person.]

Manning couldn't be certain, but it seemed to him that the box almost
tipped over and that the tipping started even before his foot reached
it. He also thought that the top of the box started to rise just before
two of the Acruxian's tentacles clamped down on it. But whether he was
right or not wasn't important; the reaction of Dtilla Raishelle was.

"_Dtona grooush!_" he shouted angrily. No one there could
understand the shout, since it was not in Acruxian but in some obscure
dialect, but it was obviously either a curse or a command. At the same
moment, the tentacle which still held Manning's hand tightened in an
almost bone-crushing grip. There was an expression of murderous anger
in the eye-stalks as they inclined toward Manning.

"You--" he began.

"Your attention please," another voice called out, interrupting the
Acruxian. It was the Regulusian host and he seemed amused. "Our
good friend, Xelia Zon, wishes to make a declaration of political
importance. You will kindly give him your attention." He stepped down
from the small stand and Xelia Zon took his place.

"My friends," said Xelia, "I have come before you this afternoon
to place in nomination for the office of Regulusian Senator to the
Assembly of Stars of the Federation the name of that stalwart son of
Terra, that friend of the people, that intrepid defender of Regulusian
rights--Manning Draco!"

"Hear, hear!" a number of Regulusians murmured politely.

"So," exclaimed Dtilla Raishelle, once more bending his angry
eye-stalks toward Manning, "not only have you insulted me in a more
despicable fashion than I have ever been insulted before, but you
also dare to oppose my election. It will give me great pleasure to
challenge you to a duel which must be held before the election. You are
challenged to meet me tonight in the central Arena."

"I accept," said Manning, disentangling his hand from the tentacle
which still grasped it. "As the challenged party, I believe I have the
right to name the method by which the duel will be fought."

"That is correct," the Acruxian said. He waved his tentacles angrily.
"But understand, Terran, in regard to the political aspects of our
duel, almost any of the legal tests of Regulus will do, but since a
personal insult is also involved I warn you that the duel must be such
as to satisfy my honor."

"I'll satisfy your honor," Manning said dryly. "I suggest a duel by
tri-blast." He indicated the three-barrelled weapon in the holster
attached to the Acruxian's skirt as the surrounding Regulusians gasped.
"I trust you have a spare weapon with you so that I may be accommodated
in the duel?"

"I have a spare tri-blast," Dtilla said. There was speculation mixed
with the anger in his eyes.

"I trust this will satisfy your honor," Manning said formally.

"As you must know, the tri-blast is the best method of satisfying
honor," Dtilla said. "Are you familiar with the weapon?"

"No, but I imagine I can become so. Sufficiently for the purpose. Shall
we say at eight o'clock tonight?"

       *       *       *       *       *

The Acruxian nodded. Both the speculation and the anger had melted
before the pleasure of his anticipation. It was evident in his
eye-stalks and the slight trembling of his tentacles. "That will be
fine," he said. "You understand that should you survive, defeat still
forces you to withdraw as a candidate?"

"Oh, I understand it," Manning said cheerfully. "Do you?" Without
waiting for an answer, he turned on his heel and marched toward the
house. Xelia joined him when he was about half way across the garden.
Out of the corner of his eye, Manning saw Velmar Shonda leave the group
she was with.

"Can you walk a little faster?" he said to Xelia in an undertone. "I
don't feel up to facing that wench just now."

They reached the elevator ahead of her and as the door closed Manning
saw that she was giving up the chase.

"Do you really intend to go through with this?" Xelia asked as they
reached the street.

Manning nodded. "I was pretty sure earlier that I knew what Dtilla was
up to," he said. "Now, I'm positive. I think this is about the only way
to stop him safely."

"But do you know what you're getting into?" persisted Xelia. "If those
blade-guns can amputate all three legs of an Acruxian at one shot, you
can imagine what it will do to you. You don't even know how to use the
weapon!"

"No, but I can learn tonight."

"Do you really think," Xelia asked in amazement, "that you can kill him
or cripple him first?"

"I don't think anyone will be killed or crippled," Manning said
lightly. "As near as I can understand, Acruxian honor is a very tricky
affair, but there is one out. I'm going to time it to give Dtilla a
chance to take that out and I think under the circumstances he will.
Now, I want you to do a couple more things for me, if you will, Xelia."

"Of course. What?"

"There's a visicast crew on its way here. They'll probably land in
the next hour or so. Will you meet them and help them to make any
necessary arrangements so that the duel between Dtilla and myself can
be visicast? Is there any way we can make sure of having a large crowd
there tonight?"

"There are always large crowds at challenges. It'll be especially
large tonight because of the nature of the duel. You can be sure that
everyone will know about it.

"Good. Now, one more thing. Get in touch with your friend at Central
Security and have him call off the two officers who have been trailing
Dtilla."

"Why?"

"I'm sure Dtilla knows about them and I want him to feel particularly
free tonight. Will you do it?"

"If you say so, Manning," Xelia said doubtfully. He looked as if he
weren't sure that Manning hadn't blown a jet.

"No, I haven't gone crazy," Manning said, grinning. "You see, you
Regulusians aren't the only ones who can read expressions. Now, run
along. You can pick me up at the hotel in time for the duel."

"What are you going to do?" Xelia asked.

Manning grinned again. "I'm going to double-lock my door against
visiting Aldebaranese females and get some rest."



                                  VII


It was a little before seven-thirty when Xelia Zon picked up Manning
Draco. He assured him that the visicast crew was all set up in the
Arena and everything was ready. They climbed into Xelia's car and drove
to the Arena.

It was a huge place with a seating capacity of several hundred
thousand.[13] It was already packed with Regulusians when Manning
arrived. The center of the Arena, perhaps four or five hundred yards in
diameter, was brilliantly lighted with the portable floods brought in
by the visicast crew and the cameras were already focused and waiting
for the signal from the emergency booth established in the first tier
of seats.

[Footnote 13: Each seat in the Regulusian Arena was equipped with a
viewer and a built-in receiver so that each individual could see and
hear as if he were within a few feet of the contestants.]

Dtilla Raishelle, still carrying his large box, was already there, his
green skirt bearing the ceremonial feathers worn by every Acruxian
when dueling. He was not exactly pleased to learn that the duel was to
be visicast over the Federation network, but there was nothing in the
dueling code to prevent this and he accepted it with ill grace.

He carried his pair of tri-blasts in a handsome case and according to
tradition offered Manning first choice. Manning carelessly took one of
them and examined it until he was sure that he knew how it operated.
Then he thrust it in his belt.

Taking the remaining blade-gun, Dtilla Raishelle picked up his box and
moved stolidly into the center of the Arena. Manning Draco waited until
he caught a nod from the man in the emergency booth, then he picked up
his small hand-pack and walked to the center of the Arena, stopping
a few yards away from Dtilla. He knew that the visicast had already
started and that an announcer in the booth was explaining the scene to
the billions of viewers.

As soon as Manning reached the center of the space, Dtilla Raishelle
placed his box on the ground. He lifted the tri-blast and saluted
Manning, then began a complicated dance, his tentacles weaving.
It was a performance dedicated to the Acruxian gods and preceded
every Acruxian duel to death. Manning had heard it described on the
encyclotape, but it was fascinating to see it. He knew it would last
about three minutes and that no Acruxian could honorably kill or maim
until the dance was finished. Once it was completed, however, there
was no way an Acruxian could withdraw from a duel; until it was over
there were a number of proscribed emergencies which would permit him to
honorably quit the field.

Manning knew he had no more than about two and a half minutes in which
to act--and he'd really be out of luck if his guess was wrong. Manning
began a peculiar dancing motion of his own and suppressed a grin as he
caught sight of the announcer's face in the emergency booth. Manning
was doing a rough imitation of an ancient Terran tribal dance he had
once seen on an ancestor-film. He knew that the announcer had been
gaily explaining the ceremonial dance of the Acruxian, but was being
completely baffled by the prancing of his fellow Terran.

He saw Dtilla glance curiously at him once, but that was all from him.
Manning had gambled on the chance that the Acruxian had never before
duelled a Terran and so would be willing to believe that they too had
ceremonial dances.

As he danced around, drawing ever nearer to the box on the ground,
Manning Draco unfastened the opening of his hand-pack and took from
it the fresh-sealed flowers. He broke the seal and began to strew the
flowers around. Seemingly by accident, when he'd finished, the flowers
formed a circle around the box that belonged to the Acruxian.

Manning removed the second package, broke the seal and threw it on the
ground near the flowers. As it struck the ground, the canister split
into two sections.

At that moment, Manning motioned to those in the booth and a super-spot
was thrown on the circle of flowers as one of the overhead cameras
swung in for a close-up. It was just in time to catch the sight of
a number of tiny objects rising swiftly from the two halves of the
canister. They hovered there a moment, then spread out and approached
the flowers. The microphones picked up the steady buzzing sound.

Manning Draco cast aside the hand-pack as he moved backward. Then he
drew the tri-blast and waited.

       *       *       *       *       *

Although no one in the Arena, or among the billions viewing it at home,
knew what was happening, a tense hush fell over them. There was such an
air of suspense that the Acruxian felt it and faltered in his dance.

So slowly that at first no one believed it was happening the top half
of the big box in the center of the flowers began swinging upward. The
first one who was sure of what he saw was the Acruxian.

"_Dtona grooush_," he shouted. He shouted something else in the
same tongue; he had started to run toward the box, then halted as he
realized that his dance had carried him too far away.

The top of the box continued to rise, slowly as though someone, or
something, didn't want to attract attention.

Then the top was all the way up and there was a wind-like sound as
thousands of Regulusians released their pent-up breath. Many light
years away, other viewers tensed in front of their visiscreens.

What came out of the box was undoubtedly a bird, but unlike one ever
seen in the Federation. From head to tail it was a good three feet long
and, standing, it was about two feet tall. Its feathers were brown
and white, with a black stripe running across its eyes like a mask.
What had once been wings were now wing-like arms ending in a pair of
three-fingered hands. There was an intelligent cruelty in its yellow
eyes. A strange-looking harness was strapped around its body and in it
there was a needle-sharp weapon.

As the bird came out of the box, it had eyes only for the small objects
which buzzed around the flowers. Its head shot out again and again and
each time its beak closed on one of the buzzing objects.

Manning Draco shouted and the bird glanced up. It looked at the man who
stood before it and its beak yawned widely. There was a brief glimpse
of a double row of teeth. Then it moved toward him, its eyes bright
with intent. One hand crept toward the weapon in its harness.

Manning Draco fired the tri-blast. There was a sharp energy recoil and
then the three blades struck the bird. It cried out something in the
strange dialect the Acruxian had used and tried to dodge at the last
moment, but it was too late. Feathers swirled in the air and then it
went down, neatly sliced into four parts.

[Illustration: Feathers swirled in the air and then it went down....]

The cameras followed Manning Draco as he walked over to the dead bird
and they moved in for a close-up. Off to one side, Dtilla Raishelle,
reduced from co-star to extra, was ignored.

Manning scooped up one of the small objects, wincing slightly as it
stung him. Then he held up the brown and gold bumblebee so that it
could be seen.

"Citizens of the Federation," he said, "the creature which I just
killed in self defense was a Denebian, probably evolved from something
very similar to the Terran Shrike, or Butcher Bird. Although the
dominant form in their system, the Denebians are a completely ruthless
life form, especially destructive towards all form of insects. This
Denebian was brought to Regulus by an Acruxian agent and kept concealed
in that box. During the past few days, the Denebian was permitted no
food. It was planned to turn the Denebian loose in the Achernarian
Embassy here, believing that inevitably the killing of the Achernarians
would be blamed on the Regulusians and cause civil war in the
Federation. This--"

       *       *       *       *       *

Suddenly there was an interruption which Manning Draco had not planned.
Velmar Shonda came running out into the Arena and threw her arms around
Manning.

"My hero," she exclaimed. Her mouth pressed hotly against his.

Up in the emergency booth, the announcer quickly began an excited
commentary on what they had just seen, while the cameras swung around
to focus on the Acruxian. But he was no longer in the Arena.

In the meantime, with the aid of a couple of attendants, Manning
succeeded in prying the Aldebaranese away from him. His mouth stung and
wiping his hand across it, he discovered it was bleeding. Velmar Shonda
had bitten his lip.

The announcer in his booth finished his comments and the visicast was
switched back to the home studios where another announcer was ready to
more clearly tie this incident in with the galactic situation.

"Visicast over," the directer shouted over the Arena audio system.

At that moment, a Vegan, in the uniform of the Federation Patrol, came
running onto the field. As he neared them, there was a shrill scream
from Velmar Shonda. She broke away from the attendants and started to
run. But she didn't get far.

The Vegan patrolman drew a large-barrelled gun from his holster and
fired. Velmar Shonda threshed around inside a force-net that held her
prisoner.

"Boy," exclaimed the young patrolman, "am I glad I saw that!"

"Saw what?" Manning asked.

"I was on patrol just above this planet," the Vegan explained, "and
I was watching the visicast from here when she ran out and attacked
you. I blasted down and got here as fast as I could, but I don't mind
admitting I was scared she'd get away."

"Attacked me?" Manning said. "I'm afraid you've made a mistake,
officer. All she did was kiss me."

The Vegan shook his head. "Your lip is bleeding isn't it?" Manning
nodded and the Patrolman went on: "It was an attack, sir. I know this
one. She's Velmar Shonda from Aldebaran Four. We've been looking for
her for two months."

Manning was dazed. "Did you say Aldebaran Four? She said she was from
the third planet."

"She's from the fourth one, sir. Oh, they look a lot like the
Aldebaranese on Three--except for the golden eyes. You can always tell
them by that."

"But--but," stammered Manning, remembering, "the encyclotape said that
the inhabitants on the fourth planet are very different...."

"They are--in their habits," the Patrolman said grimly. "This baby eats
nothing but blood and she could drain you in about an hour."[14]

[Footnote 14: As Manning would have learned if he hadn't been so
impatient to turn off the encyclotape, the inhabitants of Aldebaran
Four, while also belonging to the order of _Chiroptera_, are
evolved from the genus _Desmodus rotundus_, vulgarly known on
Terra as the Vampire Bat. They are exclusively blood eaters, preferring
the blood of primates and in modern times having a special preference
for the blood of humans. For this reason, their planet had been in
strict quarantine, but Velmar Shonda had somehow escaped and hid out
on Regulus. Having maintained the feeding habits of their primitive
ancestors while they had physically evolved along humanoid lines, it
was little wonder that the females like Velmar were known as Vampires
in every sense of the word.]

"If that's true," Xelia Zon said excitedly, "then that must account for
the Regulusians who have been vanishing."

"If any of you have been vanishing," the Patrolman said, "then this
baby is probably the reason for it. She's got a big appetite. Boy, am I
glad I found her. Well--"

Another Regulusian came rushing up. "The Acruxian," he exclaimed. "He's
escaped!"

"He can't get far," Xelia said grimly. "He didn't have a ship here.
Unless he steals your ship, Manning."

"If he tried that he'd be in for a surprise," Manning said.

"An Acruxian?" the patrolman asked. "I saw one on the surface as I came
in. There was another ship coming in from one of the satellites of
Regulus. Come to think of it, it looked as if it might be under remote
control."

"I thought he'd have a ship hidden somewhere," Manning said. "He's
gone, then." He sounded cheerful.

"You want this Acruxian for something?" the patrolman asked.

"No," Manning said quickly before anyone else could answer.

"Okay. I'll be getting in with my prisoner. She ought to get me a
promotion. And thanks, chum, for letting her bite your lip, so I could
see her."

"Think nothing of it," Manning said, rubbing his lip, as the patrolman
went away, dragging Velmar still in the force-net.

When it was all over, Manning realized that he was tired. He didn't
feel like the trip back to Terra, so he went to the hotel and went to
bed. He slept the sleep of the just and by the time he awakened the
following morning, he was the duly elected Senator of Regulus. There
was quite an official party to see him off.



                                 VIII


It was midday when Manning Draco landed back on Terra. He took an
air-cab to his pent-estate and went eagerly into the house. He wondered
why Vega hadn't come to meet him, but then he thought she hadn't heard
the cab arrive.

She was in the sun room. Manning bounded into the room and threw out
his arms. "Hi, honey," he said.

She didn't answer.

"Hey," he said. "What's the matter? I'm home. Is there something wrong
with Barnaby, or what?"

Vega finally consented to look up. "My hero!" she said scornfully.

Ouch! He'd forgotten that Velmar's capture hadn't been visicast; he'd
even forgotten that Vega might have been watching the 'cast.

"Wait a minute," he said indignantly. "You got me all wrong. I couldn't
stop her from running out and kissing me like that when I didn't even
know she was coming. Besides, she wasn't kissing me--she was biting me."

"A big difference!"

"You bet it was. A Federal Patrolman arrived right afterwards to arrest
her. She'd escaped from Aldebaran Four. Hey, don't you understand. She
was a vampire from that quarantined planet. All she was out for was
blood--not me."

"So you invited her up to your room to see your veins," Vega said.
"Etchings--veins--what's the difference?"

"I got witnesses," Manning said desperately.

"I'll say you have," Vega said bitterly. "Billions of them. Do you know
how many women called up to see if I'd been watching the visicast? And
to think that I had to be holding little Barnaby up to look at the
screen at that very moment."

"Look, honey, that dame--hell, you couldn't even call her a dame--was
really dangerous. She was helping Dtilla Raishelle, but on the side
she'd already helped herself to ten Regulusians. I was next on the
list--"

Just then the door-announcer chimed. Before either of them could go to
answer it, they heard the door open.

"Anybody home?" a voice called. It was J. Barnaby Cruikshank.

"Come in here," Manning yelled.

J. Barnaby appeared a moment later, his face beaming and his clothes
looking so well-groomed he was hardly recognizable. "Manning, my boy,"
he said expansively, "you did it."

"I'll say he did," muttered Vega.

"You were magnificent," J. Barnaby continued before Manning could say
anything. "I've read all the reports and you were never better. The way
you reasoned that Dtilla Raishelle visited the Achernarian Ambassador
three times in order to familiarize himself with the lock so he'd have
no trouble picking it when he returned to toss that Denebian inside--it
was superb."

"J. Barnaby--" began Manning.

"And," interrupted J. Barnaby, "I will never know how you managed
to figure out that the Acruxian was carrying a Denebian in that
box, or how you knew the Denebian could see through the box. It was
superlative!"

"Oh, it wasn't much," said Manning, caught off-guard for the moment.
"I knew that the Acruxians had used Denebians before and the fact that
Dtilla covered the box when he went to the Achernarian Embassy made it
easy to guess the box was made with one-way-vision plastic. After that,
it was only a matter of learning the value of (_n-k_)! and--to
hell with (_n-k_)!! J. Barnaby, you've got--"

"My boy," interrupted J. Barnaby, "we owe you more than we can ever pay
you. Not only did you handle the matter so that the Acruxians can't
make any complaint, since Dtilla escaped, but the Achernarians were so
impressed by the visicast that most of them voted for our party instead
of their own. It was a Republocrat victory by a landslide."

"That's nice," Manning said hurriedly. "Now, will you tell--"

"I knew the minute I heard of the problem," J. Barnaby said
expansively, "that Manning Draco was the boy who would soon have the
situation well in hand."

"He had it well in hand, all right," Vega said.

"J. Barnaby," Manning said desperately, "you've got to tell Vega about
that Aldebaranese. She refuses to believe me and--"

"All I know," J. Barnaby said blandly, "is what I seen on the
visiscreen."

"Ha!" said Vega.

       *       *       *       *       *

Manning Draco stared at his father-in-law in amazement. Then anger took
over. "So," he said, "you owe me more than you can ever pay me, do you,
you old, double-crossing Spican termite. I've put up with a lot from
you, J. Barnaby Cruikshank, but I'll get you for this where it hurts
if it's the last thing I do. I'm a member of the Senate now and when
I take office I'm going to start a campaign to get a new Secretary of
Planets."

"That's what I dropped in about," J. Barnaby said. "It seems that you
are no longer a Senator."

"What?"

"My boy," J. Barnaby said paternally, "while you were on Regulus, you
should have paid more attention to the--er--sexual habits of the
Regulusians."

"What's that got to do with it?"

"Everything. Regulusians consider sex as a very serious game, sort
of a battle of the sexes as it were, just as they do everything
else. It is not a separate part of their lives. Therefore, a sexual
challenge is judged just the same as any other challenge. It is known
all over Regulus that this Aldebaranese--Velmar Shonda, or some such
name--constantly challenged you in a sexual way and that you just as
constantly refused to accept the challenge. Why, you even blatantly
shoved her away from you in the Arena--calling on two attendants to
help you in this unmasculine action--in full view of several hundred
thousand Regulusians."

"What of it?" Manning demanded harshly.

"Unfortunately, my boy, as a result of refusing a challenge--you may
recall the laws about a political candidate refusing challenges--your
election was questioned. The Regulusian Lower Court--the highest
in the land, by the way--ruled against you. They couldn't have done
otherwise considering the evidence. Luckily, by the use of a little
influence, we were able to have a good Republocrat, Xelia Zon,
appointed to finish your term."

But neither Manning nor Vega heard his last sentence. They had turned
to look at each other as they realized the meaning of what he was
saying.

"Oh, darling," said Vega as she came into his arms, "I'm so sorry. How
could I have ever doubted you?"

For once, Manning was smart. He didn't even try to answer that
question. Instead, he bent his head and kissed her.

When they came up for air, several minutes later, neither of them
spoke. They stared deeply into each other's eyes, then, moved by a
common thought, they turned and walked in the direction of their
bedroom.

They didn't even hear J. Barnaby Cruikshank chortling happily as he let
himself out of the house.



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