"That's what I've been trying to tell mother," John Thomas said sullenly, "but she won't listen,"
"John Thomas, you keep quiet. Well, Mr. Greenberg? What have you to say for yourself?"
Greenberg did not have a good answer. He had tried to call Mr. Kiku as soon as he saw the news story and had been told by Mildred that the boss and Mr. Robbins were with, the Secretary and could not be disturbed. He told her that he would call later, realizing uneasily that trouble was not all at his end.
"Mrs. Stuart, surely you know that news reports are often distorted. There has been no talk of hostages and..."
"How can you say that when it says so right there! That's an interview with the Secretary of Space. Who knows more about it? You? Or the Secretary?"
Greenberg had his own opinion but did not dare express it. "Please, Mrs. Stuart. Newspaper stories should not be accepted at face value. This wild report has nothing to do with the case. I am simply asking you to come to Capital for a quiet talk with the Under Secretary."
"Not likely! If the Under Secretary wants to see me, let him come here."
"Madam, he will, if necessary. Mr. Kiku is an old fashioned gentleman who would not ask a lady to come to him were it not for the press of public affairs. You know that there is an interplanetary conference in progress?"
She answered smugly, "I make it a rule never to pay attention to politics."
He sighed. "Some of us must. Mr. Kiku is unable to come here today because of that conference. We had hoped that you, as a private citizen, would come to him."
"Mr. Greenberg, I reluctantly consented. Now I find that you have deceived me. How do I know but what this is a trick? A plot to turn my-son over to those monsters?"
"Ma'am, on my honor as an officer of the Federation I assure you..."
"Spare yourself, Mr. Greenberg. Now, if you will excuse me.. ."
"Mrs. Stuart, I beg you. If you will only..."
"Mr. Greenberg, do not force me to be rude to a guest. But I have nothing more to say."
Greenberg left. He looked around, intending to bring the boy into the argument, but John Thomas had quietly left. Greenberg went back to his hotel, with no intention of returning to Capital with mission incomplete but judging it useless to argue until she had time to simmer down.
He had his taxi driver drop him on the hotel roof in order to avoid reporters, but a man was waiting there, armed with an interview phone. "Half a mo', Mr. Commissioner. My name's Hovey. How about a few words on Secretary MacClure's announcement?"
"No comment."
"In other words you agree with it?"
"No comment."
"Then you disagree?"
"No comment. I'm in a hurry." This was true; he was anxious to call in and find out what in the name of blue blazing galaxies had happened.
"Just a second, please. Westville has a big local angle. I'd like to get a story before the main office sends heavyweights here to push me aside."
Greenberg relaxed a little... no sense in antagonizing the press and the fellow had a point; he knew how it felt to have someone senior sent to cope with a problem that had started as his. "Okay. But keep it brief; I really am in a hurry." He took out cigarettes. Got a light on you?"
"Sure." They lighted up, Hovey continued, "People are saying that this blast of the Secretary's is just a smoke screen and that you have come here to get the Stuart boy and turn him over to the Hroshii people. How about it?"
"No com... No, don't say that; say this and quote me. No citizen of the Federation ever has been or ever will be surrendered as a hostage to any power whatsoever."
"That's official?"
"That's official," Greenberg said firmly.
"Then what are you doing here? I understand you are trying to take the Stuart kid and his mother back to Capital. Capital Enclave isn't legally part of the North American Union, is it? If you got him there, our local and national officials couldn't protect him."
Greenberg shook his head angrily. "Any citizen of the Federation is on his home grounds in the Enclave. He has all rights there that he has at home."
"Why do you want him there?"
Greenberg lied fast and fluently. "John Thomas Stuart has knowledge of the psychology of the Hroshii held by no other human being. We want his help in dealing with them."
"That's more like it. 'Westville Boy Recruited as Diplomatic Aide.' How's that for a lead?"
"Sounds good," Greenberg agreed. "Got enough? I'm in a rush."
"Sure," agreed Hovey. 'I can pad this to a couple of thousand words. Thanks, Commissioner. See you later."
Greenberg went down and locked himself in, then turned to the phone, intending to call the department, but it came to life first. Chief Dreiser looked out at him. 'Mr. Commissioner Greenberg.
"How do you do, Chief?"
'Well enough, thank you. But Mr. Greenberg-I've just had a call from Mrs. Stuart."
"Yes?" Greenberg had a sudden wish for one of those pills the boss ate.
"Mr. Greenberg, we always try to cooperate with you gentlemen."
Greenberg attempted a stop thrust. "So? Were you cooperating when you attempted to kill the Hroshia without waiting for authority?"
Dreiser turned red. 'That was a mistake. It has nothing to do with what I must say now."
"Which is?"
"Mrs. Stuart's son is missing. She thinks he might be with you."
"So? She's mistaken. I don't know where he is."
"Is that true, Mr. Commissioner?"
"Chief, I do not tolerate being called a liar."
Dreiser went doggedly ahead. "Sorry. But I must add this. Mrs. Stuart does not want her son to leave town. The police department backs her up a hundred per cent."
"Naturally."
"Don't mistake me, Mr. Commissioner. You are a very important. official-but you are just another citizen if you get out of line. I read that news story and I didn't like it."
"Chief, if you find that I am doing anything illegal, I urge you to do your duty."
"I shall, sir. I certainly shall."
Greenberg switched off, started again to call in, and thought better of it. If the boss had new instructions, he would send them... and Kiku despied field agents who chased back to mama whenever there was a slight shift in the wind. He must change Mrs. Stuart's mind-or hole up here for the winter.
While he was thinking the phone again signaled; be answered and found himself looking at Betty Sorenson. She smiled and said, "This is Miss Smith speaking."
"Umm.. . how do you do, Miss Smith."
"Well, thank you. But busy. I have a client, a Mr. Brown. He is being urged to take a trip. What he wants to know is this: he has a friend at the city of his destination; if he makes this trip, will he be allowed to see his friend?"
Greenberg thought rapidly. The other Hroshii would be around Lummox as thick as flies; it might be dangerous to let the boy go where they were and he was sure Mr. Kiku had not so intended.
Oh, the police could throw a tanglefoot field over the whole space port if necessary! The Hroshii weren't superhuman. "Tell Mr. Brown that he will see his friend."
"Thank you. Uh, Mr. Jones, where could your pilot pick us up?"
Greenberg hesitated. "It would be better for Mr. Brown to make the trip by the commercial lines. Just a moment." He found the flight schedule folder provided in most hotel rooms. "There is a ship leaving Stateport in about an hour. Could he catch it?"
"Oh, yes. But... well, there is a matter of money."
"Oh. Suppose I make you a personal loan? You, not Mr. Brown."
She broke into a grin. "That would be lovely!"
"Have you any suggestion as to how to get it to you?" Betty did have-a snack shop called The Chocolate Bar across from Central High School. A few minutes later he was waiting in it, sipping a chocolate-and-milk mess. Betty showed up, he passed her an envelope and she left. He stayed there until he could no longer face the contents of his glass, then went back to the hotel.