Double Star

He inspected me. «I quite believe it — Chief. All right, I'll have Penny slip the answers to you right after the ceremonies. Then you can excuse yourself to go to the men's room and just stay there until you are sure of them.»

«That should work.»

«I think so. Uh, I must say I feel considerably better now that I've seen you. Is there anything I can do for you?»

«I think not, Rog. Yes, there is, too. Any word about — him?»

«Eh? Well, yes and no. He's still in Goddard City; we're sure of that. He hasn't been taken off Mars, or even out in the country. We blocked them on that, if that was their intention.»

«Eh? Goddard City is not a big place, is it? Not more than a hundred thousand? What's the hitch?»

«The hitch is that we don't dare admit that you — I mean that he — is missing. Once we have this adoption thing wrapped up, we can put you out of sight, then announce the kidnapping as if it had just taken place — and make them take the city apart rivet by rivet. The city authorities are all Humanity Party appointees, but they will have to co-operate — after the ceremony. It will be the most wholehearted co-operation you ever saw, for they will be deadly anxious to produce him before the whole Kkkahgral nest swarms over them and tears the city down around their ears.»

«Oh. I'm still learning about Martian psychology and customs.»

«Aren't we all!»

«Rog? Mmm ... What leads you to think that he is still alive? Wouldn't their purpose be better served — and with less risk — just by killing him?» I was thinking queasily how simple it had turned out to be to get rid of a body, if a man was ruthless enough.

«I see what you mean. But that, too, is tied up with Martian notions about “propriety.”» (He used the Martian word.) «Death is the one acceptable excuse for not carrying out an obligation. If he were simply killed, they would adopt him into the nest after his death — and then the whole nest and probably every nest on Mars would set out to avenge him. They would not mind in the least if the whole human race were to die or be killed — but to kill this one human being to keep him from being adopted, that's another kettle of fish entirely. Matter of obligation and propriety — in some ways a Martian's response to a situation is so automatic as to remind one of instinct. It is not, of course, since they are incredibly intelligent. But they do the damnedest things.» He frowned and added, «Sometimes I wish I had never left Sussex.»

The warning hooter broke up the discussion by forcing us to hurry to our bunks. Dak had cut it fine on purpose; the shuttle rocket from Goddard City was waiting for us when we settled into free fall. All five of us went down, which just filled the passenger couches — again a matter of planning, for the Resident Commissioner had expressed the intention of coming up to meet me and had been dissuaded only by Dak's message to him that our party would require all the space.

I tried to get a better look at the Martian surface as we went down, as I had had only one glimpse of it, from the control room of the Tom Paine — since I was supposed to have been there many times I could not show the normal curiosity of a tourist. I did not get much of a look; the shuttle pilot did not turn us so that we could see until he leveled off for his glide approach and I was busy then putting on my oxygen mask.

That pesky Mars-type mask almost finished us; I had never had a chance to practice with it — Dak did not think of it and I had not realized it would be a problem; I had worn both space suit and aqua lung on other occasions and I thought this would be about the same. It was not. The model Bonforte favored was a mouthfree type, a Mitsubushi «Sweet Winds» which pressurizes directly at the nostrils — a nose clamp, nostril plugs, tubes up each nostril which then run back under each ear to the supercharger on the back of your neck. I concede that it is a fine device, once you get used to it, since you can talk, eat, drink, etc., while wearing it. But I would rather have a dentist put both hands in my mouth.

The real difficulty is that you have to exercise conscious control on the muscles that close the back of your mouth, or you hiss like a teakettle, since the durn thing operates on a pressure difference. Fortunately the pilot equalized to Mars-surface pressure once we all had our masks on, which gave me twenty minutes or so to get used to it. But for a few moments I thought the jig was up, just over a silly piece of gadgetry. But I reminded myself that I had worn the thing hundreds of times before and that I was as used to it as I was to my toothbrush. Presently I believed it.

Dak had been able to avoid having the Resident Commissioner chit-chat with me for an hour on the way down but it had not been possible to miss him entirely; he met the shuttle at the sky field. The close timing did keep me from having to cope with other humans, since I had to go at once into the Martian city. It made sense, but it seemed strange that I would be safer among Martians than among my own kind.

It seemed even stranger to be on Mars.

Five

Mr. Commissioner Boothroyd was a Humanity Party appointee, of course, as were all of his staff except for civil service technical employees. But Dak had told me that it was at least sixty-forty that Boothroyd had not had a finger in the plot; Dak considered him honest but stupid. For that matter, neither Dak nor Rog Clifton believed that Supreme Minister Quiroga was in it; they attributed the thing to the clandestine terrorist group inside the Humanity Party who called themselves the «Actionists» — and they attributed them to some highly respectable big-money boys who stood to profit heavily.

Myself, I would not have known an Actionist from an auctioneer.

But the minute we landed something popped up that made me wonder whether friend Boothroyd was as honest and stupid as Dak thought he was. It was a minor thing but one of those little things that can punch holes in an impersonation. Since I was a Very Important Visitor the Commissioner met me; since I held no public office other than membership in the Grand Assembly and was traveling privately no official honors were offered. He was alone save for his aide — and a little girl about fifteen.

I knew him from photographs and I knew quite a bit about him; Rog and Penny had briefed me carefully. I shook hands, asked about his sinusitis, thanked him for the pleasant time I had had on my last visit, and spoke with his aide in that warm man-to-man fashion that Bonforte was so good at. Then I turned to the young lady. I knew Boothroyd had children and that one of them was about this age and sex; I did not know — perhaps Rog and Penny did not know — whether or not I had ever met her.

Boothroyd himself saved me. «You haven't met my daughter Deirdre, I believe. She insisted on coming along.»

Nothing in the pictures I had studied had shown Bonforte dealing with young girls — so I simply had to be Bonforte — a widower in his middle fifties who had no children of his own, no nieces, and probably little experience with teen-age girls — but with lots of experience in meeting strangers of every sort. So I treated her as if she were twice her real age; I did not quite kiss her hand. She blushed and looked pleased.

Boothroyd looked indulgent and said, «Well, ask him, my dear. You may not have another chance.»

She blushed deeper and said, «Sir, could I have your autograph? The girls in my school collect them. I have Mr. Quiroga's ... I ought to have yours.» She produced a little book which she had been holding behind her.

I felt like a copter driver asked for his license — which is home in his other pants. I had studied hard but I had not expected to have to forge Bonforte's signature. Damn it, you can't do everything in two and a half days!

But it was simply impossible for Bonforte to refuse such a request — and I was Bonforte. I smiled jovially and said, «You have Mr. Quiroga's already?»

«Yes, sir.»

«Just his autograph?»

«Yes. Er, he put “Best Wishes” on it.»

I winked at Boothroyd. «Just “Best Wishes” eh? To young ladies I never make it less than “Love.” Tell you what I'm going to do — » I took the little book from her, glanced through the pages.