Glawen rose to his feet; Kirdy did the same, somewhat more slowly. Glawen said: "For now, that is all we need. Perhaps you will hear no more from us, but that is for my superiors to decide."

"They knew you were coming to see me?"

"Of course."

"Where are they staying?"

"They are at Araminta Station."

"Oh! So now: what are your plans?"

"As I explained, our main concern is to identify the principals of Ogmo Enterprises. You do not seem inclined to help us, so we must continue our inquiries elsewhere."

Sir Mathor pulled thoughtfully at his chin.

"Really. And where is 'elsewhere'?"

"I can't undertake to answer your questions, sir."

"I suspect that you intend to inquire of the Ideationists as to the man who brought them their tickets."

"Certainly. Why not, if it will identify this man for us?"

"For several reasons," said Sir Mathor in a voice of sweet reason.

"First of all, I do not want him identified; I would be both embarrassed and inconvenienced. Secondly, I cannot trust your discretion, with the Synod coming up so soon." He pulled himself to his feet and turned his head.

"Eh, Lonas?

Am I not right? They shouldn't do this, should they?"

"I should certainly think not."

Sir Mathor said to Glawen and Kirdy: "Gentlemen, I feared from the very first that it might come to this. Mind you, I hoped and proposed possibilities to myself; I weighed this against that even as we

sat talking. Always I reverted to the bitter facts. Lonas, where ha | your thinking taken you?" "The facts are bitter."

"See to it, quickly and quietly, so as not to disturb our friends. Gentlemen, in an instant you will be wandering the land behind the stars. If only you could send back news of these blessed regions! But, no doubt you will be dazed by the beauty of it all." Sir Mathor's voice was soft and soothing. Sir Lonas came forward, one long stride, another.

Kirdy gave a sudden hoarse yell: a sound of choked raving fury. While Sir Maihor stood aghast, Kirdy struck with his massive fist; it hit with the impact of a club. Sir Mathor's face went queerly askew,:

his eyes rolling up to show only the whites. A metal object dropped from his hand: a small gun. Glawen scooped it up as Kirdy turned on the startled Sir Lonas, who stood a foot taller than himself and outweighed him a hundred pounds.

Kirdy seized Sir Lonas' coarse black hair, pulled the great head to one side and chopped at the neck. Sir Lonas stumbled into a chair and fell heavily backward, kicking out in a frenzy as Kirdy, moaning and keening, tried to find a way to jump on the thrashing body. Sir Lonas twined his legs around Kirdy's waist; Kirdy hammered at the stern handsome face, but now Sir Lonas bore Kirdy down to the floor and began to strangle him. Glawen stepped forward and fired a pellet into the back of Sir Lonas' head.

Kirdy jumped panting to his feet. Glawen looked out across the terrace. No one had heeded the events in the parlor. ;

Kirdy peered down at Sir Mathor.

"He's dead," he said in wonderment

"I broke open his head. My hand hurts."

"Quick," said Glawen.

"We must drag them over here, into this side room."

The strength of both was needed to pull Sir Lonas across the floor, each to an ankle. Glawen straightened the rumpled rug and picked up, an overturned chair.

"Let's go."

The two ran from the house, and climbed aboard the waiting vehicle. It spoke: "State the name in which this car is reserved." | Kirdy looked anxiously at Glawen.

"Do you remember? I've forgot ten. It was something odd."

For a terrible instant the name eluded Glawen as well. He cried out:

"Spanchettai" The vehicle took them back to the Halcyon airport, where they were forced to wait twenty nerve-racking minutes before the flyer departed for Poinciana.

As they flew above the Mirling, Glawen considered what had happened Neither he nor Kirdy had attracted attention on the route to the Borph estate; there could be no reason to associate them with the two deaths. Indeed, the Patrunes would be sure to blame a gang of Sanart terrorists. Still, on the day previously they had mentioned the names "Sir Mathor Borph" and "Sir Lonas Medlyn" to someone. Who? The manager at the Phlodoric Travel Agency. As soon as the news of Sir Mathor's death reached his ears, he would inevitably reach for the telephone and call the police.

"I have an incident to report, which may or may not be relevant to your case." So the conversation would begin, and within the hour the police would take Glawen Clattuc and Kirdy Wook, of Araminta Station, Cadwal, into custody. On Natrice, Patrunes defined the law and its application.

"IPCC affiliation" would be contemptuously ignored.

Another thought augmented Glawen's apprehensions. The police might well derive information from the hired vehicle. They would be informed that a pair of suspicious characters were in all likelihood on the flight to Poinciana, and Poinciana police might even now be waiting for the flight to arrive.

The flyer landed at the airport; the two passed unmolested through the terminal. Glawen saw no evidence of police activity.

Kirdy's thinking appeared to be running parellel to Glawen's. He touched Glawen's elbow and pointed.

"Look yonder."

Glawen turned. At the adjacent spaceport he discovered the familiar hulk of the Sagittarian Ray, from which they had alighted only the day before.

"Yes," said Glawen.

"Your instincts and my logic lead to the same conclusion."

"The passage yonder takes us into the space terminal," said Kirdy.

Without further deliberation, the two rode a slide way into the space terminal, and went to the counter of the ticket agency. Glawen asked the clerk: "When does the Sagittarian Ray depart?"

"In just about an hour, sir."

"And what is its next port of call?"

"Soumjiana on the planet Soum."