Caradine told her. “Recommended by Harriet Lafonde.”
Both the Koangas’ faces remained polite and smiling and friendly. But the expressions were frozen in those smiles.
Caradine perked up. Perhaps here might be the key…
“She’s the permit visa official for Gamma,” he said casually. “There appears some chance, odd though it may be, that I may be allowed to visit Alpha.”
“But no outworlder goes there,” Allura said quickly. Too quickly.
“So I’m told.” Caradine drank thoughtfully. “I’d more or less decided not to bother about Alpha. The usual system seems to be to sell to Gamma and let them worry after that. But, of course, if they really do let me visit Alpha, then I’ll go.”
“Of course.” Koanga set his drink down carefully. His expression, so overlaid with fine wrinkles, was hard to read. “I think you are very privileged, Mr. Carter.”
“Well, if I am I have no knowledge why.”
“Perhaps Mr. Carter has connections of which we are completely unaware,” Allura said gaily, with a toss of her head.
She didn’t fool Caradine a single little bit.
“Sorry, Miss Koanga. I can’t claim a single contact on this planet yet.”
“You sound as though you and the Lafonde woman got on well?”
“Oh, yes, in a purely formal way. The people of Horakah are mighty proud of their stellar grouping. They talk to us out of charity, I’d say.”
“One day—” Koanga started to say, in an ugly tone. His niece cut his words off with a fight laugh.
“One day well also have better than a thousand suns, is that it, Uncle? Well, so maybe we will.”
“No reason why we shouldn’t,” Caradine said. “One thing, you can’t run too many solar systems efficiently. Sheer size eventually breaks down the best of modern administration.”
Greg Rawson and Sharon Ogilvie walked into the bar and sat in a booth. They saw Caradine and waved across as the robot brought their order.
“You know them?” Koanga asked.
“Met them casually. That’s Greg Rawson. I was introduced to the girl at breakfast. Sharon Ogilvie.”
“Interesting people,” Allura said, a trifle sharply.
Oh, well, Caradine chuckled to himself. One beautiful woman saw another and the sparks flew for a bit. They’d sort it out eventually. Might be interesting to see who came out on top. At the moment, on current performance, it would be Allura by a parsec.
The heat of the afternoon wore on. Allura suggested a swim and they set off in a cab for the pool, situated about six miles out of town. The day was perfect for swimming and for lazing about on the edge, under a striped umbrella, while the busy robots scurried with cooling drinks. The sun was throwing long shadows when at last Allura was persuaded to leave the water, dress and head back to town for dinner.
Caradine had spent a lazily instructive afternoon watching a perfect female form in a brief bathing costume, and he felt quite confident that the swim and briefness of the bathing costume and the warmth of her smile had all been laid on for his particular benefit.
Wondering why was amusing. Not very profitable, but amusing.
V
The robot made no announcement. Caradine was sitting in his dressing gown before the window of his room, smoking a last contemplative cigar and admiring the lights of the night time city. Strange how the culture of a race could be derived from their use of light. Gamma-Horakah went in for gaudy displays and clumps of light where they could be seen for miles. He had heard from Koanga of the miles of badly lit streets sprawling and festering on the outskirts of town.
The robot must have been shorted out. The door opened silently and Allura Koanga walked swiftly in, shutting the door firmly behind her.
Caradine said, “Wrong room, Miss Koanga?”
“No. Very much the right room, Mr. Carter. Well, we might as well make it John and Allura. We have plenty of work to do together.”
She was wearing a transparent negligee that showed most of the tilings a man might want to see. As Caradine had seen them all before, many times, he could ignore them—with a slight struggle—and concentrate on the reason for their flaunting.
“What can I do for you?”
“First of all, listen.” Obligingly, he remained silent.
She walked with her graceful swaying motion over to the bed and sank down upon it. Caradine swiveled in his chair but remained by the windows. He blew a careful puff of smoke.
“We are from Shanstar,” Allura Koanga said with an emphasis on the from. “We are here upon another planet, a planet that as a member of a thousand-strong confederation of worlds, considers itself so high and mighty that it denies to peaceful citizens of the galaxy free ingress to the central world. Well, enough of that. Harriet Lafonde will grant you that permit, John.”
“What makes you so certain?”
Allura laughed, a little embarrassedly, a litde unsteadily. Her large dark eyes fastened on Caradine, sitting there by the window, smiling across at her. His very poise in face of her intrusion and her negligee must, he thought with dry humor, have unsetded her a trifle. Her eyes told what she thought of his last remark.
“I’m certain. Women know about these things.”
“All right, I’ll accept that women know and therefore, that you know too. But what do you want? I’m tired. I need sleep.”
The situation and the hour, he felt, had warranted excision of the word bed.
“Once you are on Alpha, there is much you can do for Shanstar, John. There are many things we need to know. I’m sure you understand.”
Caradine said with heavy emphasis, “No. Sorry, Allura, but that sort of stupidity is not for me. I am a plain businessman. I know nothing of, and I care even less, if that is possible, for military matters now. You’ll have to find someone else to do your spying for you.”
She rose from the bed and crossed to him, the negligee pressing against her figure. She was intense, on fire, demanding.
“You are of Shanstar, John Carter. Surely that means something to you?”
“It does. I like Shanstar. I don’t want to get myself caught and executed as a spy and put Shanstar in an embarrassing political situation. Oh, yes. I’d be caught.”
“But—” she protested fiercely.
“I’ve said no; I mean no. I want to hear nothing more about it.” He flicked ash into the disposal in the arm of the chair. “Have you thought that this room is almost certainly tapped?”
She laughed. “It was.”
“I see. Well, then, the answer is still no.”
She was kneeling by the chair now, clutching the arm. Her face was inches from his own. He wondered when she’d moved into phase two of the operation.
Well, it was a temptation all right. A hellish temptation. But as he had no intention of spying whilst on Alpha, assuming he reached there, he couldn’t take the payment and default on delivering the goods.
My God I Even in this he was starting to think like a businessman!
She gave him a long, hard, calculating look. He endured it emotionlessly, knowing the crucial moment was here.
Then she sat back on her heels. Her face showed weariness and defeat. Slowly she stood up and put one hand through her aubum hair.
“Sorry to have troubled you, John. I see that I am wasting my time. I just thought that with Shanstar being lined up by Horakah as their next victim, their next conquest, you’d want to help fight back. Evidently I was wrong.”
She went limply to the door.
“Allura!”
She turned. “Yes?”
“I’ve given my word that I won’t spy on Alpha.”
“Oh.”
“And I thought that there were smaller combines lying between Horakah and Ahansic next on the list of aggression.”