He waited but Komeitk Lelianr said nothing. Her thoughts were unreadable.
Barch qualified. "I should say, the spirit of our section of the world. On other continents people live differently, and their music is different. The Chinese consider all our music marching music-jazz, chamber music, hymns, dirges, all of it."
A waitress approached. "Order, please?"
"Tom Collins, a pair," said Barch. He said to Komeitk Lelianr, "But we are the dominant force, the leaders-or were, until the Lekthwans came."
She laughed. "You forgot that for a few moments."
"Yes. So I did."
"Why do you tell me all this?"
Barch hesitated, then took the plunge. "Because I don't consider myself a barbarian. I'm your equal, whether you like it or not. And-"
The waitress placed a pair of tall glasses in front of them. "Dollar twenty, please."
Barch dropped money on the tray.
Komeitk Lelianr touched the glass, smelled it gingerly, "What is this?"
"Fruit juice, carbonated water, ethyl alcohol, sugar."
"Living matter?"
"What if it is?" snapped Barch. "Basically, it's carbon, oxygen, hydrogen; what difference does it make where it came from? The fruit is dead now."
She screwed up her face, sipped. "It's not unpleasant. Are these glasses sterile?"
"Probably not. That's why they put the alcohol in-to sterilize the glasses."
"Oh."
They sat in silence. The band returned to the stand and Barch felt Komeitk Lelianr's dispassionate observation of the music, then an equally dispassionate study of the dancers.
He set his shoulders, leaned forward. "I'm sorry I brought you out under false pretenses."
She said wistfully, "Then there really are none of the ceremonies you described?"
"Perhaps in the middle of Africa."
"One of the remoter districts?"
"Yes, quite remote," said Barch sardonically. "A different race of people entirely, as different from us as-" He was about to add, as we are from you, then stopped short. He drank from the tall green glass.
He pointed to a Negro sitting at a table nearby. "That man is of African stock."
"Oh? He seems no different from you except in skin coloring. Does he practice the ceremonies you speak of?"
"No, of course not. He's been born into our society. He does however, sometimes run into unpleasant discrimination." And he added maliciously, "Much, I suspect, as Earthers on Lekthwa experience."
Komeitk Lelianr pursed her lips, turned the tall glass between her fingers. Barch noticed that she had barely tasted the drink. "Don't you like it?"
She looked down indifferently, sipped at the straws. "Should I now feel exhilarated?"
"Not unless you drink two or three more."
She shook her head. "That's not likely." She rose to her feet. "Now we will go."
Sullenly Barch followed her out to the street, and back to the air-boat. Fighting to keep control of his voice he said, "If you are interested in sordid spectacles, I could take you to a prize fight or a wrestling match-although I'd prefer not."
She looked at him reflectively. "It would embarrass you?"
"Yes. It would embarrass me."
She shrugged. "Then we will return to the dome." She stepped through the hull, into the air-boat.
CHAPTER III
The boat rose into the night, automatically turned back toward Markel's dome, far to the south. San Pablo Avenue became a bright artery, flowing with twinkling headlight corpuscles. Overhead, the sky was luminous, dusted with the glow from a million lights.
The boat flew south across the great central valley. The cities became blurs of lights astern; the sky was dark and bright with stars.
Komeitk Lelianr said softly, "I can see my native sun, up by that bright star…"
"That's Spica."
"Up and to the left is a fainter star-Skyl, our sun."
Barch contemplated the star without interest. "You sound as if you're homesick."
She nodded. "It's very lonely on a strange planet with none of my friends; therefore I seek to bury myself in study."
Barch lapsed into moody silence.
Suddenly, low ahead, an intense green flash appeared in the sky. Komietk Lelianr jerked up in her seat. A frightened sound came from her throat.
Barch sat up. "What's the matter?"
"I don't know…" She drove home the speed button.
Shadows fled across the altimeter band. Komeitk Lelianr sat tense, clutching her knees; Barch looked uneasily ahead. Snowy peaks gleamed below; a few moments later Markel's dome appeared, faintly luminescent, peaceful.
The air-boat slowed, dropped, settled into its bay.
Komeitk Lelianr stepped quickly out. Barch followed. On the terrace she froze into a statue. Barch asked anxiously, "What's the trouble?"
"I don't know. I feel something-bad."
Barch started around the dark terrace. Fibers of green light glowed in the blue glass under his feet.
Ahead lay something dark. Barch ran forward, the muscles of his throat tight and stiff. He knelt slowly. Claude Darran. Barch stared in astonishment. Cold, dead-unthinkable!
A shape stood behind him: Komeitk Lelianr. Barch rose numbly to his feet. He walked forward; two paces, four- another dark shape. It was small, sprawled carelessly. Behind him he heard horrified gasping sounds. Barch's neck was cold as ice. He bent beside the pitiful object that had been Sia Spedz; then, rising quickly, drew Komeitk Lelianr to the balustrade.
She said in an agonized whisper, "The Klau-they have come to Earth. They have been here…"
Barch peered into the darkness, feeling ineffectual, indecisive. He had no real desire to investigate, to confront a set of other-world murderers. From the inside of the dome came a sudden thud. Komeitk Lelianr whimpered, jerked forward.
Spasmodic strength came to Barch's legs; he shoved ahead of her, moved toward the dim-glowing portal. Cautiously he looked within: nothing but an article or two of furniture. Komeitk Lelianr pressed against his back, breathing in soft sobs. He ducked inside; Komeitk Lelianr ran ahead, thrust aside a curtain of green smoke. She froze, arms and legs at grotesque angles.
Barch looked over her shoulder, down at two golden bodies.
There was a great deal of blood, puddled and netted along the floor. Barch drew the dazed girl back.
She said, "I must communicate…" She walked awkwardly across the room, waved open a portal. Two more corpses-Markel's guests. And at the communication table sat a great black creature. Stiff black bristles framed his face; his eyes gleamed tike polished jet, with red four-pronged centers.
The Klau stared at Barch; Barch's legs were numb, wooden. Grumbling, mumbling, the Klau rose, clutching a heavy black dagger.
Barch backed sweating against the wall; the Klau hacked. Barch caught the black wrist, planted a foot in the belly, kicked. The Klau lurched, toppled, fell with a dull roar of rage.
Barch, grinning like a wolf, planted his foot in the pulpy neck. Thick hands seized his ankle; Barch swayed.
He heard a hiss, a grunt. The hands clenched, the four-pronged red stars widened, slowly folded in on themselves.
Komeitk Lelianr arose from the dagger in the black chest.
"Come, we must go," she panted. "There are others!"
She ran to the portal. Barch paused to wrench at the dagger. He heard a thin scream, looked up, saw a flurrying black shape. Something heavy, furry, enveloped him. His legs were swept out from under him and he was carried off like a swaddled child.