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Good evening, my friends, and I thank you for your presence at the feast. The boy, on the other screen, slumped back in his chair, his face relaxing into its customary expression of vacancy. "Will you accept my offer of service, Lady Dallona?" Dirzed asked. "It's as Garnon said; you've made enemies." Dallona smiled at him. "I've not been too deep in my work to know that.
Unlike the others, he was armed, with a knife and pistol on his belt, and on the breast of his black tunic he wore a scarlet oval patch on which a pair of black wings, with a tapering silver object between them had been superimposed. "Yes, Lady Dallona; the Lord Garnon and I discussed this, oh, two years ago at the least. Really, I'm surprised that you seem to shrink from it, now.
As he rejoined the group in front of the now dark visiplates, he raised his voice, addressing them all generally. "My butler found the notches, just as the communication described," he said. "This settles it! Garnon, if you're where you can hear me, you've won. I can't believe in the Statisticalist doctrines after this, or in the political program based upon them.
The languages, character, and customs of these islanders must also receive special and careful attention." The naval doctors, Garnon and Lesson, were placed in charge of the natural history department, whilst the staff was composed of officers most remarkable for their scientific attainments, among whom may be mentioned MM. Lesage, Jacquinot, Bérard, Lottin, De Blois, and De Blosseville.
Harnosh's arm for guidance, concentrating her mind upon a single question. The others went on as though Garnon of Roxor were still walking among them. "Look!" Harnosh of Hosh cried, pointing to the image in the visiplate ahead. "He's under control!" They all stopped short, and Dirzed, holstering his pistol, hurried forward to join them.
The old man at whose right she sat noticed, and reached out to lay his hand on hers. "My dear, you're worried," he said softly. "You, of all people, shouldn't be, you know." "The theory isn't complete," she replied. "And I could wish for more positive verification. I'd hate to think I'd got you into this " Garnon of Roxor laughed. "No, no!" he assured her.
"The family of Starpha use him for work they couldn't hire an Assassin to do at any price. I've been here often, when I was with the Lord Garnon; I've always thought he had something on Prince Jirzyn." He knocked sharply on the closed door with the butt of his pistol. In a moment, it slid open, and a young Assassin with a narrow mustache and a tuft of chin beard looked out. "Ah, Dirzed."
Her alleged Venusian origin was probably accepted as the explanation of that, as of so many other things. As she was about to reply, a man in dark gray, one of the upper-servants who were accepted as social equals by the Akor-Neb nobles, approached the table. He nodded respectfully to Garnon of Roxor. "I hate to seem to hurry things, sir, but the boy's ready.
But he could not have picked up enough data, in that way, to make a connected and coherent communication. It takes a sensitive with a powerful mind of his own to practice telesthesia, and that boy's almost an idiot." He turned to Dallona. "You asked a question, mentally, after Garnon was discarnate, and got an answer that could have been contained only in Garnon's mind.
Harnosh of Hosh would believe it the first time; he's been talking to himself ever since the Lady Dallona started her experimental work here. Lord Virzal, I'm going to take a chance on you. The Lady Dallona is still carnate, or was four days ago, and the same for Dirzed. They both went into hiding after the discarnation feast of Garnon of Roxor, to escape the enmity of the Statisticalists.
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