“Time’s up, Don.”
Don took a deep breath, collapsed. “Go ahead,” he said dully. “Ask your questions.”
The lieutenant took a film spool from his desk, fed it into a projector which faced back toward him. “Your name, please.”
“Donald James Harvey.”
“And your Venerian name?”
Don whistled “Mist on the Waters.”
“Where were you born?”
“In the Outward Bound, in trajectory between Luna and Ganymede.” The questions went on and on. Don’s inquisitor appeared to have all the answers already displayed in front of him; once or twice he had Don elaborate or corrected him on some minor point. After reviewing his entire past life he required Don to give a detailed account of the events starting with his receiving the message from his parents to take passage on the Valkyrie for Mars.
The only thing Don left out was Dr. Jefferson’s remarks about the package. He waited nervously, expecting to be hauled up short about it. But if the security policeman knew of the package, he gave no sign of it. “Dr. Jefferson seemed to think that this so-called security operative was following you? Or him?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think he knew.”
” ‘The wicked flee when no man pursueth,’ ” the lieutenant quoted. “Tell me exactly what you did after you left The Back Room.”
“Was that man following me?” Don asked. “So help me, I had never laid eyes on that dragon before; I was just passing the time of day, being polite.”
“I’m sure you were. But I’ll ask the questions. Go ahead.”
“Well, we changed cabs twice—or maybe three times. I don’t know just where we went; I don’t know the city and was all turned around. But eventually we came back to Dr. Jefferson’s apartment.” He omitted mention of the call to the Caravansary; again, if his questioner was aware of the omission, he gave no sign of it.
The lieutenant said, “Well, that seems to bring us up to date.” He switched off the projector and sat staring at nothing for some minutes. “Son, there is no doubt in my mind but what you are potentially disloyal.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Never mind the guff. There’s nothing in your background to make you loyal. But that is nothing to get excited about; a person in my position has to be practical. You are planning to leave for Mars tomorrow morning?”
“I sure am.”
“Good. I don’t see haw you could have been up to much mischief at your age, isolated as you were out on that ranch. But you fell into bad company. Don’t miss that ship; if you are still here tomorrow I might have to revise my opinions.”
The lieutenant stood up and so did Don. “I’ll certainly catch it!” Don agreed, then stopped. “Unless—”
“Unless what?” the lieutenant said sharply.
“Well, they held up my ticket for security clearance,” Don blurted out.
“They did, eh? A routine matter; I’ll take care of it. You can leave now. Open sky!”
Don did not make the conventional answer. The man said, “Don’t be sulky. It would have been simpler to have beaten the living daylights out of you, then questioned you. But I didn’t; I have a son about your age myself. And I never intended to hurt your horse—happens I like horses; I’m a country boy originally. No hard feelings?”
“Uh, I guess not.”
The lieutenant put out his hand; Don found himself accepting it—he even found himself liking the man. He decided to chance one more question. “Could I say goodbye to Dr. Jefferson?”
The man’s expression changed. “I’m afraid not.”
“Why not? You’d be watching me, wouldn’t you?”
The officer hesitated. “There’s no reason why you shouldn’t know. Dr. Jefferson was a man in very poor health. He got excited, suffered an attack and died of heart failure, earlier tonight.”
Don simply stared. “Brace up!” the man said sharply. “It happens to all of us.” He pressed a button on his desk a guard came in and was told to take Don out. He was led out by another route but he was too bemused to notice it. Dr. Jefferson dead? It did not seem possible. A man so alive, so obviously in love with life—He was dumped out into a major public tunnel while still thinking about it.