the Zambendorfs would long ago have been put out of business.
“Miami Beach,” Seltzman was saying to Giraud on one of the local frequencies.
“Just imagine it, Charles—liquid water, all blue; a real, full-disk, golden sun;
palm trees; and a hundred degrees in the shade, without an EV suit. What would
you give for that?”
“Hmm, it sounds wonderful,” Giraud’s voice answered. “But if it’s all the same
to you, Konrad, I think I’d take Cannes or St. Tropez.”
“Aw, okay. Who cares? From this distance it’s all the same place anyhow.”
“What do you think the Taloids would say to it?”
“Not much. Did you know that some parts of them are made from solid mercury?
They’d melt in your refrigerator back home.”
“No, I didn’t. Would they really? That’s amazing!”
Lang’s voice added itself to the conversation suddenly. “Charles, this is
Caspar. I’m inside the forward-bay lock now—be back out there in a few seconds.
Has anything new been happening?”
“No. We decided to take a break too,” Giraud answered. “What did Dan want?”
The outer door of the airlock at the front end of the bay slid open, and Lang
emerged. Even in his bulky suit, his step seemed brisk and jubilant as he came
over to the table. At the same time Henry, who had been standing at the cargo
doors, staring out at whatever Taloids saw in the darkness, turned and came back
to rejoin the group. “It’s all over with Zambendorf!” Lang announced. “His
messiah was arrested in Padua city about two hours ago. Zambendorf didn’t appear
anywhere.” He grinned through the faceplate of his helmet. “Maybe something
happened that made him nervous about flying all of a sudden.”
“Well, that’s just great, Caspar!” Seltzman said enthusiastically. “So you
really did have it all figured, huh.”
“Congratulations.” Giraud sounded pleased. “Zambendorf bought the story, then.”
“Looks like it,” Lang agreed, lowering himself ponderously back onto the seat he
had been occupying earlier. “So let’s give Henry and the others the news. It
should make things a lot easier all round.”
“Ready to go again, Sharon?” Giraud asked, looking at her through his faceplate.
“Ready.” She nodded and cleared the screen of the transmogrifier. Lang’s news
had obviously signified something to the others that was lost on her. Perhaps
that was why she had been assigned this duty stint. If so, big deal.
“Can we resume, please?” Giraud said, switching his speech channel into the
transmogrifier’s input channel. Sharon verified the interpretation on her
screen, and the machine produced its Taloid equivalent at the correct pitch and
speed. The Taloids took up their previous positions opposite, with Henry in the
middle; Giraud nodded at Lang to commence.
“My apologies for having to leave,” Lang said. “I was called because we have
received important news.” He paused while Sharon monitored the conversion of his
phrases into Taloid substitutions. Machiavelli, who seemed to be Henry’s
principal adviser at all the talks, indicated with a gesture that the Taloids
had understood. Lang continued, “The pretender whom you seek has been found. We
have delivered him to your city and placed him in the hands of your authorities
to be dealt with by Taloid law.” He paused again while Sharon restructured his
words into shorter sentences. “Our criminals have not yet been located. When
they are found, they will be taken to our city above the sky and dealt with by
Terran law. So Taloid justice will have taken its course, and Terran justice
will have taken its course. We trust that this action will be accepted as proof
of our good faith.”
“They have found him!” Streyfoch exclaimed as he listened to the Lumian plant’s
strangled utterances. “They have found the Enlightener, who tricked our
soldiers.”
“We shall see a public execution before this bright is through,” Eskenderom
promised grimly.
“He was handed over fairly and without protest to our own authorities,” Mormorel
observed. He looked at Eskenderom. “Perchance we have judged these aliens
hastily, for deeds such as they have described would constitute a most unusual
form of treachery.”
A new light of hope had come into Eskenderom’s eyes suddenly. If the Lumian king
had handed the imposter over in Pergassos, then perhaps the rout of the Kroaxian