“That is true,” said Farr shortly. “I am immensely flattered by your attention, but I could have wished for its manifestation in less emphatic terms. Everyone at the hotel is certain I have been arrested by the Szecr for the crime of house-stealing.”
Usimr Adislj gave an uninterested shrug. “This craving for morbid sensation is a general trait of those hominids of simian descent. It is an emotion I believe may best be countered by lofty contempt.”
“Indeed,” said Farr. “I agree. But was it necessary to send four Szecr with your invitation? It was less than discreet.”
“No matter. Men of our stature cannot be bothered with such trifles. Now tell me of your background and your special interests.”
For four hours he and Usimr Adislj discussed Iszm, Earth, the universe, the variations of man and the direction of the future. When the Szecr, their number and quality now reduced to a pair of underlings, finally escorted Fair back to the hotel, he felt that he had passed a highly rewarding evening.
The next morning, when he appeared on the terrace for breakfast, he was greeted with something like awe. Mrs. Anderview, the pretty young wife of the missionary, said, “We thought for sure you’d been taken away— to jail. Or even the Mad House. And we wondered if we shouldn’t arouse the Administrator immediately.”
“It was unimportant,” said Farr. “Just a mistake. But thank you for your interest.”
The Monagi also questioned him. “Is it a fact that you and the Thord have completely outwitted the Szecr? Because if so, we can make you a very handsome offer for any female tree of which you chance to find yourself in possession.”
“I am capable of outwitting no one,” declared Farr. “I own no female tree, by chance or otherwise.”
The Monagi nodded and winked knowingly. “Naturally, naturally, not on Iszm where even the grass has ears.”
The next day the SS Andrei Simic dropped down from the sky, and departure hour was posted precisely: nine o’clock of the morning two days hence. During these final two days Farr found the Szecr possibly even more assiduous in their watchfulness. The night before departure one of them approached and with great punctilio delivered a message. “If Farr Sainh can spare the time, he is asked to call at the embarkation office.”
“Very well,” said Farr, resigning himself to the worst. He dispatched his luggage to the space-terminal, and presented himself at the embarkation office, expecting an examination to end all examinations.
The Szecr completely confounded him. He was conducted into the pod of the Szecr sub-commandant, who spoke bluntly and to the point.
“Farr Sainh—you may have sensed our interest during the last few weeks.”
Farr expressed agreement.
“I may not divulge the background to the case,” said the Szecr. “The surveillance was motivated by concern for your safety.”
“My safety?”
“We suspect that you are in danger.”
“Danger? Ridiculous.”
“Not so. Quite the contrary. On the night of the musicale, we removed a poisoned thorn from your seat. On yet another occasion, while you drank on the terrace, poison was introduced into your goblet.”
Farr’s mouth dropped in astonishment. Somewhere, somehow, a terrible mistake was being made. “How can you be sure of all this? It seems—incredible!”
The Iszic flickered the filament dividing his double eyes in amusement. “You remember formalities connected with arrival at Iszm. They allow us to maintain a quarantine upon the import of weapons. Poison is a different matter. A speck of dust can be infected with ten million virulent bacteria, and can be concealed without difficulty. Hence, any out-worlder planning murder must employ strangulation or poison. The vigilance of the Szecr prohibits acts of physical violence, so we must only be alert for poison. What are the vehicles? Food, drink, injection. When we classify the various means and devices to achieve these ends, we find one of the subdivisions to read: ‘Poisoned thorn, splinter or barb, calculated to penetrate or puncture the thigh, haunch, or buttock, through vertical impingement under force of gravity.’ Hence, our surveillance at all times includes the chair or benches where you are likely to sit.”
“I see,” said Farr in a subdued voice.
“Poison in your drink we detect by means of a reagent which darkens when a change of any sort is made in the mother solution. When one of your Scotch-and-sodas became unusually murky, we removed it and provided a substitute.”
“This is extremely bewildering,” said Farr. “Who would want to poison me? For what reason?”
“I have been authorized to communicate only this warning.”
“But—what are you warning me against?”
“The details will contribute nothing to your safety.”
“But—I’ve done nothing!”
The Szecr sub-commandant twirled his viewer. “The universe is eight billion years old, the last two billion of which have produced intelligent life. During this time not one hour of absolute equity has prevailed. It should be no surprise to find this basic condition applying to your personal affairs.”
“In other words—”
“In other words—tread soundlessly, look around corners, follow enticing females into no dark chambers.”
He plucked a taut string; a young Szecr appeared. “Conduct Aile Farr Sainh aboard the Andrei Simic. We are waiving all further examinations.”
Farr stared in disbelief.
“Yes, Farr Sainh,” said the Szecr. “We feel you have demonstrated your honesty.”
Farr left the pod in a daze of perplexity. Something was wrong. The Iszic waived examination of no one and nothing.
Alone in his cubicle aboard the Andrei Simic, he eased himself down on the elastic panel that served as his bed. He was in danger. The Szecr had said so. It was an unsettling idea. Farr had a normal quota of courage. In fighting tangible enemies he would not disgrace himself. But to learn that his life might be taken, to be ignorant of the hows and whys and wherefores—it brought a queasy turmoil to his stomach… Of course, thought Farr, the Szecr sub-commandant might be in error; or he might have used the mysterious threat to speed Farr away from Iszm.
He rose to his feet and searched his cabin. He found no overt mechanisms, no spy-cells. He arranged his possessions in such a way that he would notice a disturbance. Then, sliding aside the fiber panel, he looked out upon the catwalk. It was a ribbon of striated gray glass—empty. Farr stepped out and walked hurriedly to the lounge.
He examined the roster. There were twenty-eight passengers including himself. Some of the names he recognized: Mr. and Mrs. Anderview, Jonas Ralf, Wilfred Willeran and Omon Bozhd; others, approximate renderings of alien phonemes, meant nothing.
Farr returned to his cabin, locked the door, and lay down on the bed.
VII
Not till the Andrei Simic was space-borne and the captain came to the lounge for the routine reading of the ship’s regulations did Farr see his fellow passengers. There were seven Iszic, nine Earthers, the three Monagi savants, three Codain monks performing a ritual pilgrimage around the worlds, five others of assorted worlds, most of whom had arrived at Iszm with the ship. Except for Omon Bozhd, the Iszic wore the gold and black stripes of planter’s agents, high-caste austere men, more or less of a type. Farr presumed that two or perhaps three were Szecr. The Earthers included a pair of talkative young students, a grizzled sanitary engineer on leave to Earth, the Anderviews, Ralf and Willeran, and Carto and Maudel Wlewska, a young couple on tour.
Farr assessed the group, trying to picture each in the role of a potential assassin and finally admitted himself at a loss. Those who had already been aboard the ship seemed automatically eliminated from suspicion, as did the Codain monks and the cherubic Monagi. It was wildly unreasonable to suspect the Iszics, which more or less left the Earthers—but why should any of these seek to harm him? Why should he expect harm from anyone? He scratched his head in perplexity, disturbing the scab he still carried from his slide down the Tjiere root-tube.