Piercing eyes bored into his, and Koskelainen boomed: "Why, I know you by reputation, Dr. Lawrence!"
"Me?" Greg Lawrence had hardly thought of himself as yet having a reputation he could be known by.
"Certainly. Didn't you do that excellent report on the balance between earthworms and soil bacteria in the Philippine Islands?"
"Y-yes, I suppose so."
"Well, then?" Koskelainen clapped Lawrence lightly on the shoulder. "Of course I know all you fellows are geniuses or you couldn't get in here in the first place. Don't look cross; I'm not being sarcastic. I know a sound grasp of a subject when I see it, and why shouldn't you recognise your own worth? I envy you, you know; I'm no genius. I've just had a run of luck and the knack of handling men in tight places. How'd you like to go with me some time?" The visitor emphasised his points with graceful movements of his finger-tips.
A little overwhelmed by this flow of talk, Lawrence could only say: "Huh?"
"Sure. You know that project of mine? The thing I'm really here about? It's to persuade Dr. Ferreira and his colleagues to set up a complete biological survey of Ganesha. Never been done. We'd go in three or four teams, each of which would need at least one good ecologist. Sounds' to me as if you'd be the kind I'd want; young, healthy, good reflexes, devoted to the job, and with a solid grasp of his speciality. The pay would be right, too. Of course, there'd be some risk in a wild world like Ganesha, but I know a man of your type wouldn't let that deter him."
"Well—uh—I—"Lawrence felt himself torn several ways. Prepared to loathe this overpowering stranger, he felt himself succumbing to the man's extraordinary charm. The offer was most flattering, and just what he'd long dreamed of—though on the other hand it would take him away from Licia for several years at a stretch.
Koskelainen, as if reading his thoughts, said: "You can't answer now, of course, since nothing's settled yet. But bear it in mind; we'll talk about it some more." He turned to his host. "You know, Dr. Ferreira, you really have no business introducing me to such ravishingly beautiful daughters. First thing you know I'll be chucking the project in order to gaggle after them. Don't mind me, Senhorita; I just rattle on this way to hide my inferiority complex. Now, tell me about yourselves. Must get oriented, you know What does Miss Ferreira do? College?"
"What's—uh—what hit you?" asked Schmidt when Lawrence showed up at the laboratory next morning.
"You mean this vacant, lost look on my face?" said that young man. "I've just been given the double-whammy by Sir Erik Koskelainen, and the effect hasn't yet worn off."
"How d'you mean?"
Lawrence told of the explorer's arrival. "When I shoved off at twenty-two he was still at it. Boy, if I had that personality and those looks I wouldn't need any brains. He did most of the talking, but he was so danged amusing and flattering about it that nobody minded. When I got home I wrote down some of the funny stories he told so I can use 'em myself some time."
"A formidable type, huh?"
"I should say so. In theory I hate his viscera, but if he walked in here now, he could talk me into anything. I'd be putty in his hands."
Schmidt was digging at the bowl of his pipe. "Did he say what brought him to the Institute of Advanced Study?"
"Yeah, I was going to tell you." Lawrence described the explorer's project for a complete biological survey of the planet Ganesha.
"Hm," said Schmidt. "That would cost a bit. Let me think ...! Off-hand, I should say that it would absorb every nickel of the appropriation for new projects, and probably soak up some of the funds for old ones as well."
"You mean it might cut into ours, too?"
"Don't know yet, but it might. Think I'll look in on this shindy Saturday after all. Meanwhile, keep your eye on Sir Erik."
Next day, Lawrence told his superior: "Something's up all right. When I called up to arrange my usual session at the Ferreiras' last night, it turned out Koskelainen was taking the whole lot out to dinner; some fancy place in the city. And then when I asked about to-night, Licia told me she had a date with him. A date, mind you! This guy must have hypnotised Papa Ferreira or something, because he wouldn't violate his old Brazilian customs for anything less. Where does that leave me?"
"Uh—up a well-known tributary without adequate means of propulsion," said Schmidt. "It won't comfort you any, but you ought to know that nobody can get near this Sir Erik during the day, either. He's closeted with the Finance Committee from morning to night. It's what, in the military schools on Krishna, they call a lightning offensive."
"You been there?" Lawrence asked, for Schmidt, during the few months they had worked together, had been close-mouthed about his background.
Schmidt nodded briefly. "Once. A war-like lot, and crazy to get modern Earthly weapons. Good thing the Interplanetary Council made the Viagens Interplanetarias exclude all gadgets from the planet. By the way, where can I borrow a dinner-jacket with the fixings?"
"I've got an old one I outgrew some years ago."
"Not big enough for my purposes."
"Why, haven't you one of your own?"
"Yes, but this is for another guest."
"Who?"
"You'll see."
Schmidt had promised to drive Lawrence to the Princeton for the Institute dinner in honour of Sir Erik. Lawrence, however, was not prepared for having his boss drive up in a truck.
"What the devil, Reggie?" he cried. "That tux sure looks out of place in that van."
Schmidt puffed unperturbed on his pipe and jerked a thumb towards the rear. Got another guest with us."
"Who?"
"Uh—Magramen."
"What?"
"Yeah. He's eligible, since he's doing professional work on a project. And his table-manners can really be quite good when he takes the trouble."
"My gosh! You don't know what you're getting us into! If he thinks somebody's crossing him, he's apt to get mad and start slinging soup-bowls around the room, with the soup in them. Why did you ever ask him? I thought you had no particular use for Dzlieri."
"I had a particular use for him this time. And he'll behave."
At the hotel they got out and let down the tailgate. There was a scrambling sound from within, and the Dzlieri leaped lightly to the ground and brushed the sleeves of his dinner-jacket with his hands. Lawrence jerked in his breath when he saw the extra-terrestrial, who had his face shaved and the quasi-human part of his body clad in a dress shirt and a dinner-coat.
Schmidt said: "I thought of trying to get some sort of special pants with four legs to go over his horse part, but there wasn't time. I guess they'll consider him—ah—decent."
"Jeepers," said Lawrence, "I think he'll be spectacular enough as he is."
"Got plenty salad?" Plenty cocktail?" said Magramen. "I are hungry."
"You're always hungry, old horse," said Schmidt.
"Gotta have plenty cocktail to stand a sight of Earth-men eating meat," continued the Vishnuvan. "Disgusting species."
"That'll be taken care of," said Schmidt. "I'll even treat you, since I know you're the Galaxy's leading tightwad. Come on."
The big xenologist led the way into the hotel. He and Lawrence had to hold the folding front doors open to let Magramen pass through, since the extraterrestrial could not manage them himself because of his length of body. He went, grumbling about the stupidity of Earthly architects.
The people in the lobby showed only a mild interest in Magramen. After all, they knew about Dzlieri and other extraterrestrial species. Many of them had seen Magramen himself cantering about the town with Lawrence on his back, and finally they were hardened to the outlandish creatures that sometimes frequented the Institute of Advanced Study.