It scraped the marrow in his bones, that queer voice. He saw a big tunnel, and at the far end of it, barely discernible in the dim light, was Relegar. Grant stared, chilled. His eyes became used to the queer light, and then he began to make out details. The tunnel was round and big enough so that a man could have walked into it, and at the far end the big Uranian seemed to be standing on his side, with his sixteen huge jointed legs supporting him, half of them on the floor and half on the ceiling. His purple, hairy body was supported in the middle almost as from a web. His two semi-globular eyes, seemingly opaque, were surrounded by six smaller ones. Grant knew the smaller ones could detect infrared, and now he felt his face growing warm and knew they had on infra spot on him.
“What did you find in the swamp?” asked that dissonant voice.
Grant swallowed and licked his lips. “Nothing,” he said finally.
The great maw of the spider, rimmed in red, opened wide as if the Uranian was yawning. It showed long, curving white fangs. Then Relegar said, “You found stones of the echindul.”
“I have only one,” said Grant, and held it out fearfully.
A curious red began to creep over Relegar’s body. His next words were deadly: “One is no good. You found many. What did you do with them?”
Grant watched the great, gray poison-mandibles lift, and he was terrified. He wanted to speak but he could not.
“You’ve hidden them somewhere,” said the horrible voice. “You intended to go back after them. Well, I am going to let you do that. But I shall be after you. I, in person, shall be on your trail. How will you like that?”
“I—I haven’t got them. I don’t know where they are,” Grant insisted, which, in a manner of speaking, was true.
Relegar’s two big bulbous eyes seemed to grow bigger and bigger, but still the light was reflected only from their surface. Grant took a step backward. Relegar swayed his body toward him, but the legs did not move. “Go get your stones,” he said. “But whenever you do, I’ll be right behind you. And don’t try to go to Aphrodite.”
The lights went out. The giant Neptunian was at Grant’s side. Grant felt the leathery skin against his hand. They took him up and kicked him out on the street.
Grant got dazedly to his feet. He had to see Netse the Jovian, quick. Netse would exact a steep price as soon as he found out that Relegar had threatened, but even one-third of the money would be better than nothing. And he knew what it meant to be trailed by Relegar. No being from any planet had ever come back sane from being hunted by Relegar. Most of them didn’t come back.
He stopped at the big jewelry house over on Curium Avenue. He saw that it was now nearly one o’clock in the morning, and of course the jewelry store was closed, but he knew that Netse seldom slept and that the Jovian probably did more business at night than during the day. He pressed the night button and waited.
The square of sidewalk dropped. Grant walked between X-ray scanners and remembered to deposit his heat-gun. He was met by an Earthman who took him up a long escalator. They went into a well-lighted room hung with rich tapestries and golden drapes. The man escorted Grant to a pedestal in the center of the room. The lights went out and it was inky black.
Then suddenly there sprang into sight on the pedestal a transparent dome the size of a small goldfish bowl. It was lighted by ultraviolet from the bottom. In the center of the dome a small golden ball hung by a platinum wire, and on the ball was a tiny butterfly—Netse the Jovian. Netse’s wings moved slowly as he walked around the ball, and the violet light brought out the delicate green luminous tracery in his wings. Grant involuntarily stepped back.
There were whistling words and Grant was aware that they came through a speaker and amplification system. He knew the dome that protected the Jovian was almost indestructible. “You wished to see me?” The wings moved slowly back and forth. Each one had a purple spot in the center like an eye.
Grant gulped. “Yes. I—I have something to show you. I need your help.” He wondered if the purple spots actually were eyes.
“Most people do,” said Netse dryly.
Grant, inordinately ill at ease, fumbled in his watch-pocket. It was incredible that this tiny butterfly that would hardly outweigh a cigarette paper should have the brain to conduct a ramified business such as this one, and it was even more incredible that men and everything else—except perhaps Relegar—would yield to its will. Will, of course, was the key factor. Will was dominant and men obeyed.
Grant held out the echindul stone. “This is one of a pair,” he said. “I found the other one too.”
“You have just come back from the Red Lava Range,” said the whistling voice. “How many pairs did you find?”
Grant stared at the butterfly. Some thought the Jovians could read minds. Grant wondered. Then he decided to be honest. “Sixteen.”
Netse’s wings quit moving for a minute. “What do you want me to do?”
“I want you to assure me safe passage to your office. I will give you three-fourths of them,” Grant blurted. He had not meant to make an offer like that. He had intended to let Netse ask but the delicacy of his situation hit him abruptly and fully and he was weighed down with sudden desperation.
“How can you find the others?” asked Netse.
“I—” Grant got cautious. “I have provided for that.”
The butterfly fluttered to the top of the dome and
