«I was never much good at history.»

«It comes to this: I doubt if the planetary government can touch anything that belongs to the Museum without asking the British Parliament.»

«Why not? Treaty or no treaty, the planetary government is sovereign. That was established in the Brazilian Incident.»

«Yeah, sure. But it could cause questions to be asked in the House of Commons and that would lead to the one thing Beaumont wants to avoid at all costs – publicity.»

«Okay. What do you propose?»

«I'd say that Sance and I had better slide over to England and find out just how tight they have the 'Flower of Forgetfulness' nailed down – and who does the nailing and what his weaknesses are.»

Clare's eyes travelled past her to Francis, who was looking blank in the fashion that indicated assent to his intimates. «Okay,» agreed Clare, «it's your baby. Taking a special?»

«No, we've got time to get the midnight out of New York. By-by.»

«By. Call me tomorrow.»

When Grace screened the Chief the next day he took one look at her and exclaimed, «Good Grief, kid! What have you done to your hair?»

«We located the guy,» she explained succinctly. «His weakness is blondes.»

«You've had your skin bleached, too.»

«Of course. How do you like it?»

«It's stupendous – though I preferred you the way you were. But what does Sance think of it?»

«He doesn't mind – it's business. But to get down to cases, Chief, there isn't much to report. This will have to be a left-handed job. In the ordinary way, it would take an earthquake to get anything out of that tomb.»

«Don't do anything that can't be fixed!»

«You know me, Chief. I won't get you in trouble. But it will be expensive.»

«Of course.»

«That's all for now. I'll screen tomorrow.»

She was a brunette again the next day. «What is this?» asked Clare. «A masquerade?»

«I wasn't the blonde he was weak for,» she explained, «but I found the one he was interested in.»

«Did it work out?»

«I think it will. Sance is having a facsimile integrated now. With luck, we'll see you tomorrow.»

They showed up the next day, apparently empty handed. «Well?» said Clare, «well?»

«Seal the place up, Jay,» suggested Francis. «Then we'll talk.»

Clare flipped a switch controlling an interference shield which rendered his office somewhat more private than a coffin. «How about it?» he demanded. «Did you get it?»

«Show it to him, Grace.»

Grace turned her back, fumbled at her clothing for a moment, then turned around and placed it gently on the Chief's desk.

It was not that it was beautiful – it was beauty. Its subtle simple curve had no ornamentation, decoration would have sullied it. One spoke softly in its presence, for fear a sudden noise would shatter it.

Clare reached out to touch, then thought better of it and drew his hand back. But he bent his head over it and stared down into it. It was strangely hard to focus – to allocate – the bottom of the bowl. It seemed as if his sight sank deeper and ever deeper into it, as if he were drowning in a pool of light.

He jerked up his head and blinked. «God,» he whispered, «God – I didn't know such things existed.»

He looked at Grace and looked away to Francis. Francis had tears in his eyes, or perhaps his own were blurred.

«Look, Chief,» said Francis. «Look – couldn't we just keep it and call the whole thing off?»

«There's no use talking about it any longer,» said Francis wearily. «We can't keep it, Chief. I shouldn't have suggested it and you shouldn't have listened to me. Let's screen O'Neil.»

«We might just wait another day before we do anything about it,» Clare ventured. His eyes returned yet again to the «Flower of Forgetfulness.»

Grace shook her head. «No good. It will just be harder tomorrow. I know .» She walked decisively over to the stereo and manipulated the controls.

O'Neil was annoyed at being disturbed and twice annoyed that they had used the emergency signal to call him to his disconnected screen.

«What is this?» he demanded. «What do you mean by disturbing a private citizen when he has disconnected? Speak up – and it had better be good, or, so help me, I'll sue you!»

«We want you to do a little job of work for us, Doctor,» Clare began evenly.

«What!» O'Neil seemed almost too surprised to be angry. «Do you mean to stand there, sir, and tell me that you have invaded the privacy of my home to ask me to work for you ?»

«The pay will be satisfactory to you.»

O'Neil seemed to be counting up to ten before answering. «Sir,» he said carefully, «there are men in the world who seem to think they can buy anything, or anybody. I grant you that they have much to go on in that belief. But I am not for sale. Since you seem to be one of those persons, I will do my best to make this interview expensive for you. You will hear from my attorneys. Good night!»

«Wait a moment,» Clare said urgently. «I believe that you are interested in china – »

«What if I am?»

«Show it to him, Grace.» Grace brought the «Flower of Forgetfulness» up near the screen, handling it carefully, reverently.

O'Neil said nothing. He leaned forward and stared. He seemed to be about to climb through the screen. «Where did you get it?» he said at last.

«That doesn't matter.»

«I'll buy it from you – at your own price.»

«It's not for sale. But you may have it – if we can reach an agreement.»

O'Neil eyed him. «It's stolen property.»

«You're mistaken. Nor will you find anyone to take an interest in such a charge. Now about this job – »

O'Neil pulled his eyes away from the bowl. «What is it you wish me to do?»

Clare explained the problem to him. When he had concluded O'Neil shook his head. «That's ridiculous,» he said.

«We have reason to feel that it is theoretically possible.»

«Oh, certainly! It's theoretically possible to live forever, too. But no one has ever managed it.»

«We think you can do it.»

«Thank you for nothing. Say!» O'Neil stabbed a finger at him out of the screen. «You set that young pup Carson on me!»

«He was acting under my orders.»

«Then, sir, I do not like your manners.»

«How about the job? And this?» Clare indicated the bowl.

O'Neil gazed at it and chewed his whiskers. «Suppose,» he said, at last, «I make an honest attempt to the full extent of my ability, to supply what you want – and I fail.»

Clare shook his head. «We pay only for results. Oh, your salary, of course, but not this . This is a bonus in addition to your salary, If you are successful.»

O'Neil seemed about to agree, then said suddenly, «You may be fooling me with a colorgraph. I can't tell through this damned screen.»

Clare shrugged. «Come see for yourself.»

«I shall. I will. Stay where you are. Where are you? Damn it, sir, what's your name ?»

He came storming in two hours later. «You've tricked me! The 'Flower' is still in England. I've investigated. I'll ... I'll punish you, sir, with my own two hands.»

«See for yourself,» answered Clare. He stepped aside, so that his body no longer obscured O'Neil's view of Clare's desk top.

They let him look. They respected his need for quiet and let him look. After a long time he turned to them, but did not speak.

«Well?» asked Clare.

«I'll build your damned gadget,» he said huskily. «I figured out an approach on the way here.»

Beaumont came in person to call the day before the first session of the conference. «Just a social call, Mr. Clare,» he stated. «I simply wanted to express to you my personal appreciation for the work you have done. And to deliver this.»

«This» turned out to be a draft on the Bank Central for the agreed fee. Clare accepted it, glanced at it, nodded, and placed it on his desk.