But I can't understand why. He had no reason to hate me."

Floreste sat looking at his flower.

"After he called Pogan's Point it spilled out of him like vomit. He held nothing back. It seems that all his life, you took everything he wanted: without effort or strain. He was mad for Sessily Veder; he craved her so badly it made him sick to look at her. She avoided him as if he were deformed, but she went gladly to you. You won school honors and Bureau B rank, and all without apparent effort. At Yipton he tried his best to implicate you but the Oomps wouldn't listen and placed him under arrest. He told i me that thereafter he hated you so much that whenever he saw you ;

his knees went weak."

"It makes me a bit sick to hear of it."

"It is sickening stuff. At last you left him alone at Fexelburg, and with great gladness Kirdy knew that the time had come. The telephone call to Pogan's Point was his moment to even the score. In all candor, I was appalled by so much ferocity."

Glawen sighed.

"All this is interesting, in a horrid way, but not what I wanted to know."

"And what was that?"

"Where is my father?"

"Now? I am not sure that I know."

"But he is alive?"

Floreste blinked, irritated that he had revealed even a glimmer of information.

"If my suppositions are correct: it is possible."

"Tell me what you know."

"What do you offer in return? My life and freedom?"

"I can't do that. I have power only over your money."

Floreste, wincing, poured himself wine.

"That is an idea not to be contemplated."

"Tell me what you know. If I am able to find my father, your money will be safe from me."

"Obviously, I cannot trust you."

"Of course you can trust me! I would give all your money and my money and everything else to bring my father home! Why should you not trust me? It is your only chance!"

"I will consider the matter. When is my trial?"

"You have refused defending counsel, so there is no reason for delay. The trial will take place two days from now. When will you have an answer for me?"

"See me after the trial," said Floreste, pouring out the last of the wine.

The Court of High Justice sat in the Moot Hall of the Old Agency:

a wide circular chamber under a high dome of green and blue glass, with rosewood panels and a floor laid in a checker of gray marble streaked with green and dense white quartz. To one side the court conducted its business; to the other, a semicircular three-tiered gallery allowed the entire population of Araminta Station, if it so chose, to observe proceedings.

At the stroke of noon the three High Judges entered the hall and took their places: Dame Melba Veder, Rowan Clattuc and Conservator Egon Tamm, who presided at the trial. The judges seated themselves and the Nunciator called out: "Attention, all! The court is now in session! Let the gentleman under accusation be brought to his place of judgment!"

Stumbling and looking angrily over his shoulder as if to discover who had pushed him forward, Floreste entered the chamber.

"The accused may take his place in the dock," called the Nunciator.

"Bailiff, be good enough to escort Sir Floreste to his place."

"This way, sir."

"Don't hurry me!" snapped Floreste.

"Nothing will start until I arrive; you may be sure of that."

"Yes, sir. This is your place."

Floreste at last was properly seated. The Nunciator uttered a sonorous command: "Sir, you are here to answer grave charges! Raise your right hand on high and state your name, so that all present shall know who sits in the dock."

Floreste showed the Nunciator a sneer of pure contempt.

"Are you serious? I am well-known! Call out your own name and let us inquire into your crimes. It will suit me just as well, and it may prove amusing."

Egon Tamm spoke gravely: "The formalities seem to impede our work, and we shall forgo them, if Sir Floreste will agree."

"I agree to anything which will expedite this farce. I have already been adjudged guilty and condemned. I accept this, and I will deny nothing; it would only mean confusion and aggravation for everyone. As for my forthcoming death, what of that? I have long suffered that incurable disease known as life. So now I meet my end with neither regrets nor shame. Yes! I acknowledge my mistakes, but if I explained them I would seem to make excuses, so I will keep a dignified tongue in my head. But I will say this much: my motives were those of grandeur! I rode like a god on dreams of glory! And now these visions will dwindle' and wither and lapse into dust. My going is a great tragedy for all of us.

Look upon me well, you folk of Araminta! You shall not see my like again!" Floreste turned to the judges.

"So far as I am concerned, the trial is over. Make your dreary utterance, and also I would suggest a sentence of six months at hard labor for the Nunciator, on sheer suspicion, since everything about him suggests venality."

"Three days hence, at sundown, you shall be terminated," said Egon Tamm.

"As for the Nunciator, this time he shall escape with a warning." ' Floreste rose to his feet and started to leave the dock. The Conservator called him back: "One moment, sir! We must deal with peripheral matters, where your testimony may be needed."

With poor grace Floreste resumed his seat. The Nunciator called:

"Namour Clattuc! Approach the bench!"

Namour came slowly forward, showing a face of smiling bewilderment

"Did I hear correctly? You called me?"

Egon Tamm said: "Quite right, sir. We have a few questions to ask of you. You are well-acquainted with both Floreste and Titus Pompo. Did you know of the Thurben Island excursions?"

Namour considered carefully before speaking. Then he said: