Calvin M. Knox (15 page)

Catton told her that it was, and she arranged
a round trip for him which allowed him five days on Vyom. He would depart from
Skorg on the Tharrimar bound ship in three days; the agent subradioed ahead to
reserve accommodations for him at the various stopover points, and within an
hour the packet of tickets and reservations was completed. The cost of the trip
was three thousand normits, or twenty-seven hundred thrones in Morilaru
currency. He paid out of the funds he had drawn from the local office of the
Interworld Commission on Crime.

The
arrangements complete, Catton headed across the hotel lobby to the dining room,
for lunch. A Skorg bellhop neady stepped in front of him and said, "Are
you the Earthman, Catton?"

"That's right."

"A
woman from Morilar wishes to see you. She's waiting in the front of the
lobby."

Frowning,
Catton gave the boy a coin and went forward.
A woman from
Morilar?
Who—

It was Nuuri Gryain.

She was sitting in the lounge chair nearest
the lobby door. As he came into view she rose and walked toward him.

"Hello, Catton. I
figured I'd find you here."

"Nuuri—what—how come
you're on Skorg."

She
shrugged. "I took a little trip. There was a reward for the bit of
informing I did, and I put my money into a round trip ticket to Skorg. But I'm
hungry and thirsty now. Have you eaten?"

"No," Catton
said. "I was just about to."

He
escorted her toward the hotel dining room. They found an empty table for two.

Catton said, "How did
you know I was here?"

"I
knew you were on Skorg because it was splashed all over the news-sheets that
you'd survived the
Silver
Spear
explosion, had been
rescued from a jungle world after weeks and weeks, and had come to Skorg. So I
called a few hotels when I landed in Skorgaar, starting at the most expensive
and working down. You were registered at the third one I called."

Catton
smiled politely at her, but behind the smile was a more cautious expression. He
did not know how far to trust the Morilaru girl. He still suspected that she
betrayed him to Pouin Beryaal. And a girl who lived on the other side of the
river in Dyelleran did not waste her money on pleasure jaunts to Skorg. There
had to be a deeper motive for her trip.

A waiter hovered behind his" shoulder.
Nuuri said, "Order some wine first,
yes?"

"All right.
Get us a bottle of something good, waiter. Make it a six-normit
bottle."

The waiter bowed low and glided away. A few
moments later the wine steward appeared with a faceted green bottle. The
sommelier showed the label to Catton for approval. It was in a language he did
not know. "Where's it from?" he asked.

"Jammir," said the wine steward
with faint supercilious undertones.
"One of our finest
light wines."

"Very well,"
Catton said. "Well try it."

Following
the ancient custom of his trade, the sommelier unstoppered the decanter, poured
a bit of wine into Cartons glass, and waited for a verdict. Catton tasted it.
The wine was dry, with a curious flavor of fresh wood smoking over a fire. He
liked it. He nodded to the wine steward, who poured out a glass for each of
them and restoppered the decanter.

Catton
reached for his glass; at the same moment Nuuri, going for hers, knocked her
purse to the floor. Automatically Catton bent and scooped it up. Then,
cautiously, he thought of glancing at his wineglass. The clear surface of the
wine seemed momentarily roiled and clouded; after an instant it returned to its
transparent state.

Catton nodded. It was all very neat, very
slick
, he thought.
The accidental
knoeking-over of the purse, giving her a moment to drop something in his wine
while he bent.

"On
Earth," he said in a quiet voice, "it's traditional that when a man
and woman dine together, they exchange their wine glasses before drinking. The
tradition goes back to the dim past of Terran civilization—it's a symbol of the
trust that a man and a woman should have when they share food."

Nuuri's eyes glimmered uneasily. "I
don't think it's a very sensible custom."

"But
it's a touching one. Let me have your glass, Nuuri, and you take mine."

"Don't be foolish, Catton. Earthman
customs don't interest me. Drink your wine."

"Please. It's a particular custom of
mine."

"I
didn't notice you asking me for my glass when we drank together at the Five
Planets," she said.

"We didn't eat afterward," Catton
improvised.

"Drink your wine and don't trouble me
with your Earthman customs." She raised her glass to her lips. Catton
reached across the table, caught her slender wrist between his thumb and middle
finger, and forced her hand back to the table. She let go of the wineglass. He
did not release his grip on her wrist.

"What's
the matter, Nuuri? Are you afraid to drink my wine?"

"You're being silly."

"Answer
me.
Are you afraid to
drink my wine?"

"Of course not.
Do you take me for a poisoner? Let go of my arm. I don't intend to sit
here and let you accuse me of-"

"You
don't think I'll let you storm out of here and escape, do you? Drink the wine.
And don't try to spill the drink intentionally." He dug his middle finger
into the network of blood vessels that lay just below the skin of her wrist.
She gasped involuntarily as the pressure tightened.

"Let go. You're hurting me."

"Tell me why you won't drink my wine,
Nuuri." "You're making a scene. I could have the waiter throw you
out."

He
dug his finger deeper into her wrist. Her fingers were quivering from the pain.
"Don't try to raise your voice, Nuuri, or I'll break your wrist," he
warned in a level voice. "You put something in my drink while I bent over
to pick up your purse."

"No! It isn't so!"

"It
must be so. Otherwise you wouldn't have made a fuss about exchanging the
drinks."

He tightened his grip. His own fingers were
beginning to hurt from the constant pressure; her arm, he thought, was probably
numb to the elbow by now. But still he intensified his grasp. She bit her lips
to keep from crying out.

"Please
...
let go of me."

"I want an answer. You came here to
poison me, didn't you? Tell me the truthl
Isn't
that
why you're here? Who sent you?"

"Please."
Her voice was a strangled whisper. "My wrist— you're crushing it—"

From
a distance, in the crowded dining room, they gave the appearance of an
affectionate mixed couple, the man leaning forward and holding the woman's arm.
Closer, the picture was different. Catton forced his fingers to contact even
further.

"All right," Nuuri gasped finally.
"Pouin Beryaal sent me. He was furious when he heard you had survived the
ship explosion. He sent me to Skorg to kill youl"

XIV.

Catton
casually knocked the glass of poisoned wine
to the floor. A moment later Skorg attendants came bustling up to mop the
parquet, remove the broken glass, and to assure Catton that they were terribly
sorry about the accident.

He
and Nuuri finished the meal in silence, Catton never taking his eyes off her.
After he signed the check he said quietly, "Okay. Let's go up to my room.
We can talk there."

They
rode up in the gravshaft together. Catton let her into the room first, locked
the door, and said, "Give me your purse." He took it from her and
tossed it into the closet, which opened only to the thumbprint of the room's occupant.
"You can have it back when you leave," he told her. "I'm not
taking any chances with whatever artillery you might have in there."

"How
do you know I'm not concealing a blaster in my clothes?"

"I don't. Suppose you
strip and let me search them."

She glared at him, more in annoyance than in
outrage; Morilaru did not feel modesty about displaying their bodies. She
peeled her clothes off sullenly. Her body was like that of the two Morilaru
women he had been marooned with: lean, practically without fatty deposits
anywhere. He examined her clothing, found no concealed weapons, and told her
to dress.

"Are you satisfied?" she asked him.

"Satisfied
that there's no way you can kill me right this moment, anyway." He sat
down facing her. On Skorg there was no prohibition about non-residents carrying
weapons, and he was armed with a small blaster in case she tried anything
violent. "So you're working for Pouin Beryaal," he said reflectively.
"And-he sent you here to kill me, eh?"

She did not speak.

Catton said, "I suppose you were the one
who told Beryaal that my real motive for coming to the outworlds had nothing to
do with hypnojewels, too. You told him I was investigating the plot against
Earth. And he saw to it that the spaceliner I was taking blew up. You informed
on me, didn't you? You were in Beryaal's pay?"

"You're
remarkably wise," she said acidly. "But I don't have to listen to you
talk. Kill me and be done with it, Catton!"

"Kill you? Not till you've told me what
I want to know, Nuuri. Perhaps, if you tell me enough, I'll release you."
"I'm not telling you anything."

He steepled his fingers.
"One aspect of this tangle puzzles me. You worked for Beryaal. So
did Doveril. But you offered to betray him to the crime-detection people, and
only the fact that he had run away the night before kept him from being picked
up with the others. How come one minion of Beryaal would try to sell another
one out? Did the wires get crossed?"

Astonishment registered on Nuuri's face.
After a frozen pause she said, "Doveril was working for
Beryaal?"
"Does this come as news to you?"

"I
never knew it. Beryaal must have been furious with me! I offered to betray his
underling Doveril to you out of personal motives of revenge."

"Because Doveril
jilted you?"

"We
lived together for a while. We were planning to take out a permanent residence
permit. Then, suddenly, he told me that it was all off, that there was someone
else, that I would have to leave. I resolved to punish him for that. I was
acting on my own, not Beryaal's designs, when I informed on Doveril."

Catton shook his head slowly. "Doveril
was a kingpin in the hypnojewel business, but he was also doing some very
important—and illegal—work for Beryaal. And Beryaal was employing you to spy on
me."

Nuuri's
spiked shoulders slumped. "So it didn't matter that Doveril escaped
capture. As head of the Commission, Beryaal would simply have freed him if he
had been caught with the others."

"I'm afraid so," Catton said.

"But
how do you know so much about Doveril? Where is he? Have you seen him?"

"No.
But I've seen the girl he jilted you for. Doveril dumped her too."

"She is here?
On Skorg?"

Catton
nodded. "The night before I first met you, Doveril eloped with her to
Skorg. But he dropped her after a few weeks. She's still living on Skorg, here
in Skorgaar."

Anger glinted in Nuuri's
eyes. "Who is this woman?"

"Estil
Seeman.
The daughter of the Terran Ambassador to Morilar.
Doveril talked her into running away with him when he saw trouble shaping up
for himself. She's living in a cheap hotel on the other side of town, and
playing the gondran in a restaurant so she can pay her rent."

Nuuri
laughed harshly. "Of coursel He was her music teacher, and she disappeared
the same night he ran awayl
But
I was too stupid to
connect them. He's left her, you say? Where is he?
On Skorg,
too?"