Had there been functioning lungs within him, he would have chuckled. Instead, he moved forward and seated himself within the observation section of the _B Coli_. There, he watched the stars spin, as in a cosmic centrifuge, about him. A Gregorian chant provided the sound track as he hung and they wheeled, on his way to Cleech, Heidel von Hymack's last reported destination.
CHAPTER 3
It was late on a rainy night when she first saw him in the flesh.
Having no customers that evening, she had descended and visited the small newsstand off the lobby. She knew that the front door of the establishment had been opened because of the sudden draft and the amplification of noises from the street and the storm. Selecting her reading materials and depositing her coins, she took her papers and turned to cross the lobby.
That was when she saw him, and the papers fell from her hand. She took a step backward, confused. It was impossible that they should ever be this near to one another. She felt dizzy, and her face began to burn.
He was big, bigger even than she had imagined. His hair was mainly black--just a few light touches of gray at the temples--she noted; but then, of course, he would have had the S-S treatments and aged more slowly than other men. This pleased her, for she would have hated to see him in his decline. And those hawklike features and those blazing eyes! He was more impressive in person than on record or in tridee. He wore a black rain garment and bore two huge pieces of luggage--one a clothing case of sorts and the other a perforated box with a handle. The rain sparkled in his hair and eyebrows, glistened on his forehead and cheeks. She felt like running forward and offering her blouse as a facecloth.
She stooped and gathered the papers. Rising, she lowered her head and raised them before her, so that her face was partly hidden. Then she moved into the lobby, as though reading, and found a chair near to the main desk.
"Room and girl, sir?" she heard Horace saying.
"That will be fine," he said, lowering his luggage to the floor.
"There are many vacancies," said Horace, "because of the weather," as he pushed the album across the counter. "Let me know what strikes your fancy."
She heard him turning the pages of the big book and she counted, because she knew them by heart: ... _Four, five_. A pause... . _Six_.
He had stopped.
Oh no! she thought. That would be Jeanne or Synthe. Not either one of them, not for him! Meg, perhaps, or Kyla. But not that cow-eyed Jeanne, or Synthe, who was twenty pounds heavier than her photo indicated.
She ventured a glance and saw that Horace had moved away and was reading a paper.
Deciding quickly, she rose to her feet and approached him.
"Commander Malacar ..."
She tried to say it boldly, but her voice dropped to a whisper because of the dryness of her throat.
He turned and stared down at her. Glancing at Horace from the corner of his eye, he raised his right forefinger and crossed his lips with it.
"Hello. What is your name?"
"Jackara."
Her voice was better this time.
"You work here?"
She nodded.
"Occupied this evening?"
She shook her head.
"Clerk!" He turned.
Horace lowered the paper.
"Yes, Sir?"
He jerked a thumb at Jackara.
"Her," he said.
Horace swallowed and looked uncomfortable.
"Sir, there is something I had better tell you--" he began.
"Her," Malacar repeated. "Sign me in."
"Just as you say, sir," said Horace, producing a blank card and a writing stylus. "But--"
"The name is Rory Jimson, and I am from Miadod, on Camphor. Pay now, or pay later?"
"Pay now, sir. Eighteen units."
"How much is that in DYNAB dollars?"
"Fourteen and a half."
Malacar produced a roll of bills and paid him.
Horace opened his mouth, closed it, then said, "If everything is not satisfactory, please let me know immediately."
Malacar nodded and stooped for his bags.
"If you'll wait here, I'll ring you a rob."
"That won't be necessary."
"Very well. In that case, Jackara can show you to the room."
The clerk picked up the stylus, fidgeted with it, replaced it. Finally, he returned to his paper.
Malacar followed her toward the lift shaft, studying her form, her hair, trying to recall her face.
_Shind, prepare to transmit and relay_, he said, as they entered the shaft.
_Ready_.
--_Do not look startled, Jackara, or give any out-ward sign of hearing me. Tell me how it is that you know me_.
--_You are a telepath!_
--_Just answer the question, bearing in mind that I can destroy half this building by waving my arm in the proper way_.
"This is where we get off," she said aloud, and they left the lift and she turned to the right, leading him along a tigerstriped corridor where lights glowed only in the baseboards. The effect was tantalizing as well as stark. It gave a somewhat animal-like aura to the girl moving before him. He sniffed and detected faint narcotic fumes in the air. They were stronger near the ventilators.
--_I have seen your picture many times. I have read much about you. That is how I knew you. As a matter of fact, I have all your biographies--even the two CL ones_.
He laughed aloud and gave Shind the shorthand signal for "End transmission. Continue to receive," then, _Is she telling the truth, Shind?_ he inquired.
_Yes. She admires you considerably. She is quite excited and extremely nervous_.
_No trap, then?_
_No_.
She halted before a door, fumbled with her key for a time, unlocked it.
She pushed it open and instead of entering or stepping aside, moved to bar it, facing him. Her face twisted and untwisted and she looked as if she were about to cry.
"Do not laugh when you go in," she said. "Please. No matter what you see."
"I won't," he said.
Then she stepped aside.
He entered the room and looked about. His eyes fell first upon the whips, then moved to the picture above the bed. He lowered his luggage to the floor and continued to stare. He heard the door close. The room was a study in asceticism. Gray walls and gleaming fixtures. The one window was shuttered tight.
He began to understand.
_Yes_, said Shind.
_Prepare to transmit and receive_.
_Ready_.
--_Is this room monitored in any way?_ he inquired.
--_Not exactly. That would be illegal. There are ways that I can request assistance or activate monitors, though_.
--_Are any of them activated right now?_
--_No_.
--_Then no one will hear us if we speak_.
"No," she said aloud; and he turned to look at her where she stood with her back and palms pressed against the door, eyes wide, lips dry.
"Don't be afraid of me," he said. "You sleep with me every night, don't you?"
Feeling awkward when she did not reply, he removed his coat and looked around.
"Is there a place where I can hang this to dry out?"
She moved forward and seized the garment.
"I'll take it. I'll hang it in my shower."
She jerked it from his hands, passed quickly through a narrow door and closed it behind her. He heard its lock click. After a time he heard sounds of retching.
He took a step in that direction, about to rap and ask if she were all right.
_Do not_, said Shind. _Let her be_.
_All right. --Do you want to be let out?_