IN ALL the many-colored worlds of the universe no single ethical code shows a universal force. The good citizen on Almanatz would be executed on Judith IV. Commonplace conduct of Medellin excites the wildest revulsion on Earth and on Moritaba a deft thief commands the highest respect. I am convinced that virtue is but a reflection of good intent. - Magnus Ridolph.

"THERE'S much wealth to be found here on Moritaba," said the purser wistfully. "There's wonderful leathers, there's rare hardwoods - and have you seen the coral? It's purple-red and it glows with the fires of the damned! But" - he jerked his head toward the port - "it's too tough. Nobody cares for anything but telex - and that's what they never find. Old Kanditter, the King of Thieves, is too smart for 'em."

Magnus Ridolph was reading about Moritaba in Guide to the Planets:

The climate is damp and unhealthy, the terrain is best described as the Amazon Basin superimposed on the Lunar Alps ...

He glanced down a list of native diseases, turned the page.

In the early days Moritaba served as a base and haven for Louie Joe, the freebooter. When at last the police ships closed in Louie Joe and his surviving followers fled into the jungles and there mingled with the natives, producing a hybrid race, the Men-men - this despite the protests of orthodox biologists that such a union is impossible.

In the course of years the Men-men have become a powerful tribe occupying the section of Moritaba known as Arcady Major, the rumored site of a large lode of telex crystals...

Magnus Ridolph yawned, tucked the book in his pocket. He rose to his feet, sauntered to the port, looked out across Moritaba.

Gollabolla, chief city of the planet, huddled between a mountain and a swamp. There were a Commonwealth Control office, a Uni-Culture Mission, a general store, a school, a number of dwellings, all built of corrugated metal on piles of native wood and connected by rickety catwalks.

Magnus Ridolph found the view picturesque in the abstract, oppressive in the immediate.

A voice at his elbow said, "Quarantine's lifted, sir. You may go ashore."

"Thank you," said Magnus Ridolph and turned toward the door. Ahead of him stood a short barrel-chested man of pugnacious aspect. He darted Magnus Ridolph a bright suspicious glance, then hunched a step closer to the door. The heavy jaw, the small fire-black eyes, the ruff of black hair were suggestive of the simian.

"If I were you, Mr. Mellish," said Magnus Ridolph affably, "I would not take any luggage ashore until I found adequate thief-proof lodgings."

Ellis B. Mellish gave his briefcase a quick jerk. "No thief will get anything from me, I'll guarantee you."

Magnus Ridolph pursed his lips reflectively. "I suppose your familiarity with the tricks is an advantage."

Mellish turned his back. There was a coolness between the two, stemming from the fact that Magnus Ridolph had sold Mellish half of a telex lode on the planet Ophir, whereupon Mellish had mined not only his own property but Magnus Ridolph's as well.

A bitter scene had ensued in Mellish's office, with an exchange of - threats and recriminations - the whole situation aggravated by the fact that the field was exhausted. Coincidentally both found themselves on the first packet for Moritaba, the only other known source of telex crystal.

Now the port opened and the pungent odor of Moritaba rolled into their faces - a smell of dank soil, exultant plant-life, organic decay. They descended the ladder, blinking in the hot yellow light of Pi Aquarii.

Four natives squatted on the ground nearby - slender wiry creatures, brownish-purple, more manlike than not. These were the Men-men - the hybrid race ruled by Kanditter, the King of Thieves. The ship's purser, standing at the foot of the gangplank, turned on them a sharp glance.

"Be careful of those boys," he told Magnus Ridolph and Mellish. "They'll take your eyeteeth if you open your mouth in front of them."

The four rose to their feet, came closer with long sliding steps.

"If I had my way," said the purser, "I'd run 'em off with a club. But - orders say 'treat 'em nice.' " He noticed Mellish's camera. "I wouldn't take that camera with me, sir. They'll make off with it sure as blazes."

Mellish thrust his chin forward. "If they get this camera, they'll deserve it."

"They'll get it," said the purser.

Mellish turned his head, gave the purser a challenging look. "If anyone or anything gets this camera away from me I'll give you another just like it."

The purser shrugged. A buzzing came from the sky. "Look," he said. "There's the copter from Challa."

It was the oddest contraption Magnus Ridolph had ever seen. An enormous hemisphere of wire mesh made a dome over the whole vehicle, an umbrella of close-mesh wire under which the supporting blades swung.

"That's just how fast these johnnies are," said the purser in grudging admiration. "That net is charged - high voltage - as soon as the copter lands. If it wasn't for that there wouldn't be a piece left of it an hour after it touched ground."

Mellish laughed shortly. "This is quite a place. I'd like to be in charge here for a couple of months." He glanced to where Magnus Ridolph stood, quietly watching the copter.

"How about you, Ridolph? Think you're going to leave with your shirt?" He laughed.

"I am usually able to adapt myself to circumstances," said Magnus Ridolph, observing Mellish with detached curiosity. "I hope your camera was not expensive?"

"What do you mean?" Mellish reached for the case. The lid hung loosely; the case was empty. He glanced at the purser, who had tactfully turned his back, then around the field. The four natives sat in a line about thirty feet distant, watching the three with alert amber eyes.

"Which one of them got it?" demanded Mellish, now suffused with a red flush.

"Easy, Mr. Mellish," said the purser, "if you hope to do business with the king."

Mellish whirled on Magnus Ridolph. "Did you see it? Which one - "

Magnus Ridolph permitted a faint smile to pull at his beard. He stepped forward, handed Mellish his camera. "I was merely testing your vigilance, Mr. Mellish. I'm afraid you are poorly equipped for conditions on Moritaba."

Mellish glared a moment, then grinned wolfishly. "Are you a gambling man, Ridolph?"

Magnus Ridolph shook his head. "I occasionally take calculated risks - but gamble? No, never."

Mellish said slowly, "I'll put you this proposition. Now - you're going to Challa?"

Magnus Ridolph nodded. "As you know. I have business with the king."

Mellish grinned his wide yellow-toothed smile. "Let us each take a number of small articles - watch, camera, micro-mac, pocket screen, energizer, shaver, cigarette case, cleanorator, a micro library. Then we shall see who is the more vigilant, the more alert." He raised his bushy black eyebrows.

"And the stakes?" inquired Magnus Ridolph coolly.

"Oh" - Mellish made an impatient gesture.

"You owe me a hundred thousand munits for the telex you filched from my property," said Magnus Ridolph. "Ill take double or nothing."

Mellish blinked. "In effect," he said, "I'd be placing two hundred thousand munits against nothing - since I don't recognize the debt as collectable. But I'll bet you fifty thousand munits cash to cash. If you have that much."

Magnus Ridolph did not actually sneer but the angle of his fine white eyebrows, the tilt of his thin distinguished nose, conveyed an equivalent impression. "I believe I can meet the figure you mention."

"Write me a check," said Mellish. "Ill write you one. The purser will hold the stakes."

"As you wish," said Magnus Ridolph.