Dear Dad:
I'm over at the Jemadaris' seeing Egbert. When are you two going to make up your minds? The suspense is killing me. Know what I'd like for Christmas? A mother!
Alister
Reith smiled as he thoughtfully folded the missive and put it away in his wallet. He asked Kardir: "Where's Minyev?"
"He said you owed him some leave, sir; so he went forth, soon after you departed."
"That's odd. Did he, too, leave a written message?"
"Nay, sir. Two men—of our kind—rode up one day and asked for you. After I explained your absence, they were fain to speak with your secretary. Minyev came forth, and the three walked away to the aya corral to talk beyond my hearing. Then Minyev came back, saying he would take his leave now. Soon he carried out his gear in a big sack and rode off on his own beast with the other two. I have not seen him since."
Reith's suspicions stirred, like a snake uncoiling. With half an ear he heard the cook ask: "Wilt have company for dinner, sir?"
"Hmm—tomorrow, perhaps. What can you tell me about the persons who took Minyev away?"
The cook shrugged. "They wore common shaihan-herd's garb and spoke Mikardandou."
"That could mean they came from Mikardand, Qirib, Suruskand, or the city of Majbur. Or it might not be their native tongue. Could you learn anything from their accents?"
"Nay, sir; how could I, who have never studied such matters?"
Reith spent the evening in his office, recording expenses and straightening up his files, which Minyev, surprisingly, had left in considerable confusion. The following morning he saw to the management of his modest ranch; then drove his gig to Novorecife. He spent an hour picking up his mail, reading the latest issue of the Novo News, consulting the space-ship schedule in the Space Control center, and discussing with Castanhoso the rumors of wars and upheavals in the nearby Krishnan countries. He also sought the security officer's opinion of Minyev's sudden departure.
"Can't think of a reason for his taking off like that," mused Reith.
"Is there anything missing—silver or pictures, for example?"
"Not so far as I can tell, except that my personal papers were in something of a mess. Could it have anything to do with these rumors of a Qaathian invasion?"
Castanhoso shrugged. "Não sei. Fallon tells me the Kamoran has spies out; but I have heard nothing to implicate your secretary."
Reith then visited the room occupied by White and Ordway, saying: "The São Paolo, with your shooting crew, won't arrive for several days. What do you want me to do in the meantime?"
Ordway looked up from a paper-littered desk. "Matter of fact, old boy, Jack and I shall be so busy calculating times, costs, and distances that we really shan't have anything for you to do."
"Any objection if Alicia and I stay out at my ranch until the ship comes in?"
"Can't think of any. In fact, you might use the time to make up your shilly-shallying mind—if 'mind' is the word I want. You must be one of those prooks I've heard about."
"I beg your pardon?" said Reith, puzzled.
"Hey, what are you apologizing to me for?"
"I mean, Cyril, what's a prook?"
"You know, a prooks—a cavalier. One of those Johnnies who used to gallop around in stove piping, to save fair maidens from dragons and enchanters; like in that old flick, Three Hearts and Three Lions."
Reith laughed, forgetting the sharp retort he had meant to make to Ordway's all-too-accurate gibe. "Oh, you mean preux. It's French for 'gallant.' "
"Oh? What I'm trying to say is, you remind me of those old plays by that Russian chap with a name like Check-out. In his scripts there's always some bloke who most frightfully wants to get his gel between sheets; but every time he gets the beazel steamed up, the silly ass loses his nerve and backs away."
Reith grinned. "There may be something in what you say. But none of Chekhov's characters was ever in exactly our position."
"And why on earth do you call the gel 'Wart Hog'? If there's anything she's not, it's ugly."
"Just a private joke between us, like her calling me 'Fearless'."
Ordway sighed. "When a couple start calling each other pet names, it means the cement's nearly set. Go on with your mating dance, and try not to be like the heroes in that fellow Checkout's plays. Cheer-o!"
"So long! If you want us, send someone after us."
Musing on Ordway's whimsical words of encouragement, Reith crossed the compound and found Alicia in her room. "Hey, Wart Hog! Ordway and White won't need us for a few days, until the São Paolo comes in with its load of nameless creeping things."
"You mean the Cosmic crew? Actually, some are almost human. So?"
"So why not come out to my place?"
"Well—ah—I might be needed ..."
"Oh, come on! Let me be your conscience. Then if anything happens, you can pin the blame on me. We can swim, play tennis, and fence; and you won't have our demon newsperson in your hair, trying to pry out a story about the star-crossed Reiths."
"Meilung will draw all the inferences she needs from my absence," said Alicia primly.
"So what? She'll draw them anyway. Under that hardbitten exterior, she's a romantic little soul. Besides, at the ranch you won't have our own nameless creeping thing making passes all the time."
Alicia snorted. "That pimple on the face of mankind can think of more subtle little sexual suggestions ..."
"Maybe I should take lessons—"
"You wouldn't need ... Anyway, I'll come, if we can have the same arrangements as before."
"Whatever you say."
The following morning, as Reith bent to pick up tennis balls, Alicia said: "Your accuracy is coming up fast. You just need more practice."
"Huh! I was lucky to take one set out of ten. Trouble is, if I play with you only, you'll improve as fast as I. I'll never catch up."
Alicia laughed. "You'll get even at our fencing match this afternoon." She blew a puff of air at the golden bang that overlay her damp forehead. "Bákh! I've never seen it so hot and muggy. I'm drowning in sweat!"
"My dear Lish," said Reith, "men sweat; ladies glow. You glow, like a luminous Krishnan arthropod. Tell you what! I'll get Kardir to put us up a lunch, and we'll ride out into the country."
"Divine! Maybe we could try that swimming hole you—"
She broke off at the sound of hoofbeats. A mounted Krishnan trotted up the driveway, drew rein before the ranchhouse entry, and leaped out of the saddle. He wore a divided kilt and, about his upper body, a simple square of cloth pinned over one shoulder and passed beneath the other arm. Both garments bore a checkered pattern of emerald-green-and-purple squares. Reith said, "That—by Bákh! That's King Vizman's livery! What's he up to ..."
The Krishnan approached, bowed, and said in the Qiribo dialect of Mikardandou: "Have I the honor of addressing Doctor Alicia Dyckman?"
"Yes," said Alicia.
"I bear an epistle from my master, the great Dour of Balhib, to the noble Mistress Dyckman." He proffered a letter.
Alicia turned the envelope over. "Thank you, good-man." When the messenger did not move, she added, "Is there aught else?"
"My master hath commanded me to await your reply."
Alicia fingered the letter as if it might explode. "Fergus, may I borrow your knife?"
She pried off the seal and read. Reith said, "Well?"
"He's heard I'm back on Krishna and begs me to come visit him. He practically offers me all three moons if I'll come. Says he's carried out his promise about the slaves."
"That's true," said Reith. "But what's your answer?" Alicia looked about like an animal caught in a trap. "I ought to think it over ..."To the messenger she said, "Speak you English, goodman?"