“That’s right”

“What’re they doing here?”

“He’s top-level,” said Lee. “Who is on Freiland and not here for your party?”

Donal frowned again. He had almost managed to forget that it was in his honor these several hundred well-known people would be gathered here tonight. Oh — not that he would be expected to place himself on show. The social rules of the day and this particular world made lionizing impolite. Direct lionizing, that is. You honored a man by accepting his hospitality, that was the theory. And since Donal had little in the way of means to provide hospitality for the offering, the marshal had stepped into the breach. Nevertheless, this was the sort of occasion that went against Donal’s instinctive grain.

He put that matter aside and returned to that of William. If the man happened to be visiting Freiland it would be unthinkable that he should not be invited, and hardly thinkable that he should decline to come. It could be just that. Perhaps, thought Donal with a weariness beyond his years, I’m starting at shadows. But even as his mind framed the thought, he knew it was not true. It was that oddness in him, now more pronounced than ever since the psychic shaking-up of the Newtonian battle, with its multiple phase shifts. Things seen only dimly before were now beginning to take on shape and substance for him. A pattern was beginning to form, with William as its center, and Donal did not like what he saw of the pattern.

“Let me know what you can find out about William,” he said.

“Right,” replied Lee. “And the Newton man?”

“And the girl from the Exotics.” Donal finished dressing and took a back slipway down to the marshal’s office. Elvine was there, and with her and the marshal, as guests, were William and Anea.

“Come in, Donal!” called Galt, as Donal hesitated in the entrance. “You remember William and Anea, here!”

“I’d be unlikely to forget.” Donal came in and shook hands. William’s smile was warm, his handclasp firm; but the hand of Anea was cool and quickly withdrawn from Donal’s grasp, and her smile perfunctory. Donal caught Elvine watching them closely; and a faint finger of warning stirred the surface of Donal’s mind.

“I’ve looked forward to seeing you again,” said William. “I owe you an apology, Donal. Indeed I do. I’ve underestimated your genius considerably.”

“Not genius,” said Donal.

“Genius,” insisted William. “Modesty’s for little men.” He smiled frankly. “Surely you realize this affair with Newton’s made you the newest nova on our military horizon?”

“I’ll have to watch out your flattery doesn’t go to my head. Prince.” Donal could deal in double meaning, too. William’s first remark had put him almost at his ease. It was not the wolves among people who embarrassed and confused him; but the sheep dogs gone wrong. Those, in fact, who were equipped by nature and instinct to be one thing and through chance and wrongheadedness found themselves acting contrary to their own natures. Possibly, he had thought, that was the reason he found men so much easier to deal with than women — they were less prone to self-deception. Now, however, a small intake of breath drew his attention to Anea.

“You’re modest,” she said; but two touches of color high on the cheek-bones of her otherwise slightly pale face, and her unfriendly eyes, did not agree with her.

“Maybe,” he said, as lightly as he could, “that’s because I don’t really believe I’ve got anything to be modest about. Anyone could have done what I did above Newton — and, in fact, several hundred other men did. Those that were there with me.”

“Oh, but it was your idea,” put in Elvine.

Donal laughed.

“All right,” he said. “For the idea, I’ll take credit.”

“Please do,” said Anea.

“Well,” put in Galt, seeing that things were getting out of hand. “We were just about to go in and join the party, Donal. Will you come along?”

“I’m looking forward to it,” answered Donal, smoothly.

They proceeded, a small knot of people, out through the big doors of the office and into the main hall of the mansion. It was already full of guests interspersed with drifting floats laden with food and drinks. Into this larger body of people, their small group melted like one drop of coloring matter into a glass of water. Their individual members were recognized, captured and dispersed by other guests; and in a few seconds they were all separated — all but Donal and Elvine, who had taken his arm possessively, as they had come out of the office.

She pulled him into the privacy of a small alcove.

“So that’s what you’ve been mooning over!” she said fiercely. “It’s her!”

“Her?” he pulled his arm loose. “What’s wrong with you, Ev?”

“You know who I mean!” she snapped. “That Select girl. It’s her you’re after — though why, I don’t know. She’s certainly nothing special to look at. And she’s hardly even grown up yet.”

He chilled suddenly. And she — abruptly realizing that this time she had gone too far, took a sudden, frightened step back from him. He fought to control himself; but this was the authentic article, one of the real Dorsai rages that was his by inheritance. His limbs were cold, he saw everything with an unwonted clarity, and his mind ticked away like some detached machine in the far depths of his being. There was murder in him at the moment. He hung balanced on the knife edge of it.

“Good-by, Ev,” he said. She took another, stiff-legged step back from him, then another, and then she turned and fled. He turned about to see the shocked faces of those nearby upon him.

His glance went among them like a scythe, and they fell away before it. He walked forward through them and out of the hall as if he had been alone in the room.

He was pacing back and forth in the bare isolation of the marshal’s office, walking off the charge of adrenalin that had surged through him on the heels of his emotion, when the door opened. He turned like a wolf; but it was only Lee. “You need me?” asked Lee. The three words broke the spell. The tension in him snapped suddenly; and he burst out laughing. He laughed so long and loud that the Cobyman’s eyes became shadowed first with puzzlement, and then with a sort of fear.

“No… no… it’s all right,” he gasped at last. He had a fastidiousness about casually touching people; but now he clapped Lee on the shoulder to reassure him, so unhappy did the lean man look. “See if you can find me a drink — some Dorsai whisky.”

Lee turned and left the room. He was back in seconds with a tulip-shaped glass holding perhaps a deciliter of the bronze whisky. Donal drank it down, grateful for the burn in his throat.

“Learn anything about William?” He handed the glass back to Lee.

Lee shook his head.

“Not surprised,” murmured Donal. He frowned. “Have you seen ArDell Montor around — that Newtonian that came with William?”

Lee nodded.

“Can you show me where I can find him?”

Lee nodded again. He led Donal out onto the terrace, down a short distance, and in through an open wall to the library. There, in one of the little separate reading cubicles, he found ArDell alone with a bottle and some books.

“Thanks, Lee,” said Donal. Lee vanished. Donal came forward and sat down at the small table in the cubicle opposite ArDell and his bottle.

“Greetings,” said ArDell, looking up. He was not more than slightly drunk by his own standards. “Hoping to talk to you.”

“Why didn’t you come up to my room?” asked Donal.

“Not done,” ArDell refilled his glass, glanced about the table for another and saw only a vase with some small native variform lilies in it. He dumped these on the floor, filled the vase and passed it politely to Donal.

“No thanks,” said Donal.

“Hold it anyway,” ArDell said. “Makes me uncomfortable, drinking with a man who won’t drink. No, besides, better to just bump into each other.” He looked at Donal suddenly with one of his unexpected flashes of soberness and shrewdness. “He’s at it again.”