"I see." She stood before a window, the light rendering her thin robe translucent so that he could see the silhouette of her figure, the same light shadowing her face. "And how does this news affect Security?"

"It doesn't. I used a pretense to gain admission."

"You are honest," she said. "If nothing else. Would you care for refreshment? I have some excellent tisane."

Her composure was remarkable. Dumarest watched as she prepared the beverage and then, excusing herself, went to dress. She returned wearing a simple gown falling to below her knees and belted around the waist, the neck high and the soft fabric cut to enhance her figure. Sitting so as to face him, she poured herself a cup of the steaming tisane.

"You will forgive me if I appear unaffected by the news you bring. My father and I were far from close. I am sorry that he is dead but all things must die. It is the way of the universe."

"You are a philosopher, my lady?"

"A realist."

And an opportunist, he thought. Her ability had been wasted on Loame. Here, in this society, it must have enabled her to gain rapid status and she had taken full advantage of it. But did she know what was happening on her home world?

"I know," she said when he asked the question. "You are not a native of Loame so perhaps you can't understand. But I hated the system. A daughter cannot inherit the lands of her father. They pass to the man she marries. And it may seem an ideal existence for those who live in the mansions but for those living in the huts it is a different matter. The majority of growers are kind enough according to their conception of kindness, but even the best of them regards his workers as little more than serfs. Education is limited and class distinctions rigid. Progress is resisted because of the turmoil it could bring. The thorge is a clean and painless way of breaking the status quo."

"And those who are chosen to fill the tribute quota? What happens to them? Wouldn't they be happier left alone?"

"Their happiness would be that of cattle in a field of succulent corn. Here they are educated. They are taught skills and put to useful work. Their lives are better than they had reason to suspect."

She didn't know, he decided. She was repeating what she had been told, but at least she did know of the tribute. That, apparently, put her in a minority.

"And now," she said, refilling both their cups, "tell me why you wanted to see me." She looked sharply at him as he obeyed. "Are you serious?"

Dumarest met her eyes. "Yes, my lady. Very serious. Can you help me?"

"I don't know." Her eyes were thoughtful. "It was so long ago and there were so many books."

"But you can remember?"

"I can never forget," she said with a trace of bitterness. "My ability is not wholly an advantage. Childhood is not a pleasant time and there is much I would prefer not to remember. But Earth?" She paused, thinking, the steam from her cup rising to wreathe her face with vapor. "Earth," she said again and added, "There is a rhyme I once read in an old book. It was incredibly ancient and I didn't understand it at the time. It was simply something I read to assauge loneliness but, somehow, I think it may have a bearing on what you ask."

Dumarest looked down at his hands. They were tight about his cup. Carefully he set it down. "And the rhyme, my lady?"

"A silly thing." She began to recite in a thin, little girl voice. "The Ram, the Bull, the Heavenly Twins, and next the Crab the Lion shines the Virgin and the Scales. The Scorpion, Archer and Sea Goat, the Man that holds the Watering Pot, the Fish with shining scales." She blinked and said in her normal voice. "Does that mean anything to you?"

"No, my lady."

"And yet it must have a meaning." Her eyes grew blank, withdrawn and he realized that she was again reading the ancient volume, recalling each word from the chambers of her perfect memory. "The signs of the zodiac!" she said triumphantly. "A mnemonic to put them in correct order."

"The zodiac?"

"Twelve symbols each representing a portion of a band of the sky in a complete circle. Twelve configurations of stars each representing one of the signs. If you can find a planet surrounded by those signs then that world could be the one you seek."

"Earth?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "It could be if such a planet exists but I simply don't know."

Dumarest hid his disappointment. "Thank you, my lady. There were no old charts or navigational tables?"

"None." Her voice softened as she read his eyes. "I'm sorry I haven't been of much help, but it's the best I can do."

He sat thinking. She had been of little help but the journey had not been wholly wasted. The stars would provide the answer, the constellations he had seen as a boy. Hypnosis would bring them to the surface and stellar charts would provide verification. He could hire the use of a planetarium and a computer together with the services of a skilled astronomer. It would only be a matter of time.

And he was positive that Earth must be very close. Certainly in this sector of the galaxy-so much, at least, he had learned.

She caught his arm as he rose to go.

"A moment, you can't leave like this. I must make you some more tisane, a special blend with a unique flavor which I am sure you will enjoy. And you must tell me about Loame. Grower Lemain, how is he?"

"Well, my lady."

"And his son?"

He answered as she made the drink, wondering at her sudden interest, discovering the reason as he sipped the beverage and realized too late that it was drugged.

* * *

A man stood outside the apartment, stocky, in civilian clothes but with the unmistakable stance of the military. He doubled as Dumarest hit him in the stomach, falling, retching, slumping unconscious as he hit him again. As he raced toward the elevators Dumarest tore open the envelope the chemist had given him, spilling the tablets into his hand, thrusting them into his mouth, swallowing the dry fragments. They were a stimulant and might combat the sedative the woman had put in the tisane.

One of the cages was rising. He pressed the button of the other which was descending from two floors above. It arrived and he jumped inside, slamming the doors and hitting the first floor button. A woman, over-dressed and no longer young, glared at him from where she stood at the back of the elevator.

"What are you doing, young man? I wanted the tenth floor."

The beauty shop, the restaurant, the dressmakers, perhaps. It didn't matter. She would have to wait.

"Did you hear me?" Her voice was sharp, acrimonious. "Who are you? A resident? I shall complain to the manager!"

He ignored her, watching the floors as they rose past. The man outside the apartment had been waiting and there would be others below. The drug? Elaine had wanted to render him harmless, but why? To capture him obviously, but he couldn't guess at her motives. To her he was a stranger and she had had no reason to suspect him. And how had she summoned the man in the passage? She had made no call while he was in the apartment.

The elevator halted and he left the cage. A door gave on to a flight of stairs but he passed them, they were wide and carpeted and would be watched. Somewhere there had to be another flight, service stairs for the use of maintenance workers and cleaners. A place like this would want to keep such people out of sight of the residents.

He staggered a little, fighting a sudden nausea, a beelike buzzing in his ears. Sweat dewed his face and body as his metabolism struggled against the diverse effects of the drugs. He reached a corner and ducked around it as someone called out from behind. A door yielded and he stared into a closet filled with cleaning material. Another held a row of meters. The third opened on a flight of narrow stairs.