"Dusting the books, your lordship."

"There's no dust here. These books are sacred, forbidden to your touch."

"Well, I thought I'd better make sure. I didn't want your lordships sneezing for my neglect."

"What book did you take from the shelf?"

"Book, sir?"

"Give it to me."

Paddy twitched, leaned forward, leaned back. Two Badaus -short but burly, hardened to the gravity of the planet, while he was under the strain of the added weight. They could handle him as easily as he might best a six-year-old child.

"Oh, the book! Well, your lordships, it was just a bit of reading for my spare time. Thanking you for your attention, but I'd better be about my duties or the steward will be calling me to account."

Paddy started to sidle away. Two arms seized him, the book was taken from his pouch.

The Badau glanced at the title. " 'The Foolish Man's Inclination'-well-selected, I must say. Hmm." He looked back at Paddy. "Strange interests for a porter. And you can read Badaic?"

"It was a whim of the moment, sir, and I but meant to look at the pictures."

The second Badau said, "Better call Intelligence, have them put the man through investigation."

The Councillor hesitated. "They're occupied with that off-planet business, all working for the reward." He grunted. "Now it's a million marks a year for life, amnesty for all crimes past and future. If it gets much better I'll be out looking for the fellow myself."

He released Paddy. "I suppose an Earther stealing a book is no world-shaking event."

The Councillor shoved Paddy roughly toward the door. "See that you mind your duties."

Paddy said, "Please may I have the book, your lordship?"

The Badau's face became rigid with sudden rage, Paddy ran off as nimbly as the gravity would permit. As he left the room he caught a glimpse of the Badau glancing at the book curiously.

In fury, fear, frustration, Paddy returned to the servants' quarters. He doffed the porter's garb, found his way to the barracks. The Chief Steward was standing by his sleep-tub.

"So there you are! This way, hurry! There's been an opening and I'll put you on now. Get your equipment."

"Just a deck of cards," said Paddy wearily. How would he tell Fay? She, who depended on his resource and cleverness… They must leave. If the Councillor came to page 100 he'd call for the Chief Steward, and inquire about the strangely literate porter.

Paddy said to the Steward, "I think I'd better see my wife a moment."

"Get in there!" screeched the Steward. "Before I cudgel you! You'll see your wife at the proper time."

The exit was barred. Paddy dispiritedly followed the steward. Any minute now the furor would ring out. Ah well, shrugged Paddy, death came to all men. Perhaps the Councillor had merely replaced the book.

More hopefully he followed the Steward up a ramp into an antechamber off the performance platform. The Steward turned him over to a Badau in a red and green tunic. "Here he is-the magician. I've had to search the entire building for him."

The Badau in uniform inspected Paddy sharply. "Where's your equipment?"

"Just let me have a deck of cards," said Paddy. "That's all I need for now."

"On that shelf then. Now attend carefully. You're on after the present act. Step up on the stage, bow to the diners.

See that your humor, if you make use of such, is of a refined nature, the Lords are at their eating. Bow when you leave the stage. Conduct yourself with the utmost respect. This is not some greasy tavern on Earth."

Paddy nodded, went to stand by the entrance to the stage, where an Earther woman was performing an exotic dance. Music came from a band of mesh around the stage, the music of a climate as warm and enchanting as the dance.

The Badau audience was attentive, watchful. Damned satyrs, thought Paddy, and turned his own attention to the dance, a writhing, posturing slow gyration. The girl wore a gilded G-string over hips slender but ripe, a shoulder blouse of gauze, a high pagodalike headdress. She was sinuous as running water. Her movements were pulse-stirring promises of joy.

The music waxed, waned, became melodious, piquant, soft, increased in beat toward a climax. The dancer followed like shadows after a cloud. Twine of arms, heave of smooth lithe torso, twist of round legs, collapse in a curtsy and off the stage.

"Phew!" said Paddy, eyes glittering. "There'd be a good shipmate for me and I'd even forget the Maeve women."

"The Magician Black unveils the ancient arcana and the mysteries of Earth," said a voice to the audience.

"Go on," said the stage manager. "Perform. Make it good."

Paddy halted, backed up like a skittish horse. The time had come. This was reality. There was a room full of Badau lords to be entertained. They were dull, unsympathetic, hostile. Of course he could jolly them a bit, get them in a good humor.

The stage manager jostled him forward. "Go on, get out there," he said, "and don't forget my instructions."

Paddy felt naked on the stage. "Ladies and gentlemen, now you're to see marvels such as you've never suspected. So sit tight. I have here a deck of fifty-two cards-the oldest playing device known to man, other than the chessboard. And I'm proud to say there's none that's more a master of the pack than me, Harry Black, the Miracle Magician of the Age."

Behind his back he covertly split the deck. "Now I'll read you the cards in a way you'll talk about for years to come."

He held the cards before his face. "This first one doesn't count. I only want to show you the deck." Behind his back, out again. "Now this is the jack of spades-trey of clubs-five of diamonds-" The audience seemed apathetic. He heard a muffled hiss.

"Enough of that, you say? Very well then, 'twas only a warm-up. Now here's the jumping aces. Just a minute, I'll turn my back on you to count the cards. Now, see here, that the ace of clubs, the ace of spades and in the middle the ace of diamonds. You can tell by the point.

"Now see-I put one on top, one in the middle, one on the bottom. I cut the cards. That's mixing them thoroughly. Now we look through the deck and there! What do we see! They're all together again!"

Ssss… ssss…!

"And now," said Paddy genially, "if some kind gentleman would come forward, take a card… Please someone?… Someone to draw a card?… All a little bashful, eh?… Very well, then, I'll draw one myself but it's you that'll see it and not Harry Black.

"Ah, and this little item it is-can you all see it now?-and I put it on the bottom and now I'll cut the cards, thus burying the card inextricably in the deck. And now here we go. Harry Black, with his trained glance, looks along the faces and with his eyesight keen as the fox of the Wicklows he spots the card and whisht! It's the nine of hearts! And isn't that a marvel now?"

Paddy ducked. It was the rind of a fruit buzzing past his ears. Paddy bowed. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen, that'll be all for now."

He backed off the stage. "Cold audience," he remarked to the silent stage manager. "Ah, where's my wife?"

The manager said in a crisp voice, "If it weren't for her I'd have you thrown out of the hotel."

Paddy said stupidly, "And how do you mean if it weren't for her?"

The stage manager said contemptuously, "You saw her dance. The Lords seemed to like her. I advise you to stay in your bed tonight."

A great light burnt into Paddy's brain. "Dance? You mean that she was… You mean…" He beat at his brows. "And that was… Ah well, never mind. Where is the little deceiver?"

"She's in the dressing room, waiting for the next series."

"I've got to see her." Paddy ran down the ramp, bumped into Fay coming around the corner.

"We've got to leave," whispered Paddy. "They'll be after us at any time."