"Why do you want him there?"
Greenberg lied fast and fluently. "John Thomas Stuart has knowledge of the psychology of the Hroshii held by no other human being. We want his help in dealing with them."
"That's more like it. 'Westville Boy Recruited as Diplomatic Aide.' How's that for a lead?"
"Sounds good," Greenberg agreed. "Got enough? I'm in a rush."
"Sure," agreed Hovey. 'I can pad this to a couple of thousand words. Thanks, Commissioner. See you later."
Greenberg went down and locked himself in, then turned to the phone, intending to call the department, but it came to life first. Chief Dreiser looked out at him. 'Mr. Commissioner Greenberg.
"How do you do, Chief?"
'Well enough, thank you. But Mr. Greenberg-I've just had a call from Mrs. Stuart."
"Yes?" Greenberg had a sudden wish for one of those pills the boss ate.
"Mr. Greenberg, we always try to cooperate with you gentlemen."
Greenberg attempted a stop thrust. "So? Were you cooperating when you attempted to kill the Hroshia without waiting for authority?"
Dreiser turned red. 'That was a mistake. It has nothing to do with what I must say now."
"Which is?"
"Mrs. Stuart's son is missing. She thinks he might be with you."
"So? She's mistaken. I don't know where he is."
"Is that true, Mr. Commissioner?"
"Chief, I do not tolerate being called a liar."
Dreiser went doggedly ahead. "Sorry. But I must add this. Mrs. Stuart does not want her son to leave town. The police department backs her up a hundred per cent."
"Naturally."
"Don't mistake me, Mr. Commissioner. You are a very important. official-but you are just another citizen if you get out of line. I read that news story and I didn't like it."
"Chief, if you find that I am doing anything illegal, I urge you to do your duty."
"I shall, sir. I certainly shall."
Greenberg switched off, started again to call in, and thought better of it. If the boss had new instructions, he would send them... and Kiku despied field agents who chased back to mama whenever there was a slight shift in the wind. He must change Mrs. Stuart's mind-or hole up here for the winter.
While he was thinking the phone again signaled; be answered and found himself looking at Betty Sorenson. She smiled and said, "This is Miss Smith speaking."
"Umm.. . how do you do, Miss Smith."
"Well, thank you. But busy. I have a client, a Mr. Brown. He is being urged to take a trip. What he wants to know is this: he has a friend at the city of his destination; if he makes this trip, will he be allowed to see his friend?"
Greenberg thought rapidly. The other Hroshii would be around Lummox as thick as flies; it might be dangerous to let the boy go where they were and he was sure Mr. Kiku had not so intended.
Oh, the police could throw a tanglefoot field over the whole space port if necessary! The Hroshii weren't superhuman. "Tell Mr. Brown that he will see his friend."
"Thank you. Uh, Mr. Jones, where could your pilot pick us up?"
Greenberg hesitated. "It would be better for Mr. Brown to make the trip by the commercial lines. Just a moment." He found the flight schedule folder provided in most hotel rooms. "There is a ship leaving Stateport in about an hour. Could he catch it?"
"Oh, yes. But... well, there is a matter of money."
"Oh. Suppose I make you a personal loan? You, not Mr. Brown."
She broke into a grin. "That would be lovely!"
"Have you any suggestion as to how to get it to you?" Betty did have-a snack shop called The Chocolate Bar across from Central High School. A few minutes later he was waiting in it, sipping a chocolate-and-milk mess. Betty showed up, he passed her an envelope and she left. He stayed there until he could no longer face the contents of his glass, then went back to the hotel.
He waited two hours, then called Mrs. Stuart. "I have just heard that your son left for Capital on his own."
He waited for her to quiet down, then added, "Mrs. Stuart, I'm still in Westville but am about to fly back to Capital. Would you care to come with me? My ship is faster than the commercial liners."
Half an hour later they left for Capital.
Mr. Kiku saw John Thomas Stuart first. Old enough to be John Thomas's grandfather, he treated John Thomas as an equal, thanking him for coming, offering refreshment. He explained briefly that Lummox was unwilling to return home unless John Thomas went along. "It is extremely important to the Hroshii that Lummox return. To us it is important for other reasons."
"You mean," John Thomas said bluntly, "that they are going to fight us if I don't? That's what the papers say."
Mr. Kiku hesitated briefly. "They may. But that is not the reason I have consulted you. I doubt if the Hroshii would attempt anything if your friend Lummox opposed it-which I think Lummox would if it was something dangerous to you, such as an attack on this planet."
"Oh, I'm sure of that, if Lummie has anything to say about it. But why should they listen to him? Uh, is he royal, or something?"
"Perhaps 'royal' will do, since we don't understand their customs. But Lummox's wishes are important."
John Thomas shook his head in wonder. "Seems funny. The way I used to boss him around."
"In any case I am not asking you to save us from a possible war. I am thinking of positive benefits, not negative ones; we want to establish friendly relations with these people. I asked you here to find out your own wishes. If I make it possible for you to go with Lummox to their planet-Hroshijud it is called-what would your answer be? Think it over, you need not answer now."
John Thomas gulped. "I don't need to think it over. I'd go, of course."
"Don't be hasty."
"I'm not being hasty. Lummie will need me. He's never happy with strangers. Anyhow, he wants me to. You don't think I'd let him down, do you?"
"No. But this is a serious decision. You'll be going almost a thousand light-years from home."
John Thomas shrugged. "My great grandfather went there. Why shouldn't I?"
"Mmm... yes. I keep forgetting your ancestry. But aren't you interested in knowing what other human beings are going with you? Or even if there are to be any?"
"Huh?" John Thomas thought about it. "Oh, those details will work themselves out. It's not my business."
'They will be worked out," Mr. Kiku answered. He stood up. "Thank you for coming."
'Not at all, sir. Uh... when do I get to see Lummox?"
Mr. Kiku pursed his lips. "Not right away; I have matters to settle first. In the meantime, enjoy yourself. I'm assigning a man to guide you around and pay your expenses. He will act as bodyguard, too."
"A bodyguard? What for? I'm grown up."
"So you are. But, if for no other reason, I don't want you talking to reporters. Do you mind? I have no authority to tell you not to."
"Oh no, Mr. Kiku... if it will help."
"It will help."
Mr. Kiku had received John Thomas at his desk, Mrs. Stuart he received in a lavish room, one without a conference table and which had been designed by subtle psychologists to impress visitors. Mr. Kiku knew that he was in for a bad time.
He fended her off with tea and formality, forced the talk to trivia. "So good of you to come, madame. Sugar? Lemon?"
"Uh, neither, thank you. Mr. Kiku, I must make clear firstoff that..."
"Try these little puffs. Did Mr. Greenberg make you comfortable?"
"What? Oh, yes, a nice suite, overlooking the Gardens of Heaven. But Mr. Kiku..."
"I was sorry to ask you to come to me. But I am the prisoner of my job. You understand?" He spread his hands helplessly. "I can't leave Capital at certain times."
"That's understandable, I suppose. Now..."
"Your kindness is appreciated. You must remain, as an official guest, as long as you see fit. Capital is worth seeing, even if one has seen it often... which no doubt you have. I understand that the shopping is excellent, too."