It was impossible to tell in just what section of the car Iron Thoughts had been lurking. The carpeting near the rear passenger seats seemed to blur for an instant. Then he was there, camouflage dropped, sitting on the floorboards five feet from the naturalist and Halet.
Halet’s mouth opened wide; she tried to scream but fainted instead. Dr. Droon’s right hand started out quickly towards the big stungun device beside his seat. Then he checked himself and sat still, ashen-faced.
Telzey didn’t blame him for changing his mind. She felt he must be a remarkably brave man to have moved at all. Iron Thoughts, twice as broad across the back as Tick-Tock, twice as massively muscled, looked like a devil-beast even to her. His dark-green marbled hide was criss-crossed with old scar patterns; half his tossing crimson crest appeared to have been ripped away. He reached out now in a fluid, silent motion, hooked a paw under the stungun and flicked upwards. The big instrument rose in an incredibly swift, steep arc eighty feet into the air, various parts flying away from it, before it started curving down towards the treetops below the car. Iron Thoughts lazily swung his head around and looked at Telzey with yellow fire-eyes.
“Miss Telzey! Miss Telzey!” Delquos was muttering behind her. “You’re sure it won’t . . .”
Telzey swallowed. At the moment, she felt barely mouse-sized again. “Just relax!” she told Delquos in a shaky voice. “He’s really quite t-t-t-tame.”
Iron Thoughts produced a harsh but not unamiable chuckle in her mind.
* * *
The pearl-gray sportscar, covered now by its streamlining canopy, drifted down presently to a parking platform outside the suite of offices of Jontarou’s Planetary Moderator, on the fourteenth floor of the Shikaris’ Club Tower. An attendant waved it on into a vacant slot.
Inside the car, Delquos set the brakes, switched off the engine, asked, “Now what?”
“I think,” Telzey said reflectively, “we’d better lock you in the trunk compartment with my aunt and Dr. Droon while I talk to the Moderator.”
The chauffeur shrugged. He’d regained most of his aplomb during the unhurried trip across the parklands. Iron Thoughts had done nothing but sit in the center of the car, eyes half shut, looking like instant death enjoying a dignified nap and occasionally emitting a ripsawing noise which might have been either his style of purring or a snore. And Tick-Tock, when Delquos peeled the paralysis belts off her legs at Telzey’s direction, had greeted him with her usual reserved affability. What the chauffeur was suffering from at the moment was intense curiosity, which Telzey had done nothing to relieve.
“Just as you say, Miss Telzey,” he agreed. “I hate to miss whatever you’re going to be doing here, but if you don’t lock me up now, Miss Halet will figure I was helping you and fire me as soon as you let her out.”
Telzey nodded, then cocked her head in the direction of the rear compartment. Faint sounds coming through the door indicated that Halet had regained consciousness and was having hysterics.
“You might tell her,” Telzey suggested, “that there’ll be a grown-up crest cat sitting outside the compartment door.” This wasn’t true, but neither Delquos nor Halet could know it. “If there’s too much racket before I get back, it’s likely to irritate him . . .”
A minute later, she set both car doors on lock and went outside, wishing she were less informally clothed. Sunbriefs and sandals tended to make her look juvenile.
* * *
The parking attendant appeared startled when she approached him with Tick-Tock striding alongside.
“They’ll never let you into the offices with that thing, miss,” he informed her. “Why, it doesn’t even have a collar!”
“Don’t worry about it,” Telzey told him aloofly.
She dropped a two-credit piece she’d taken from Halet’s purse into his hand, and continued on towards the building entrance. The attendant squinted after her, trying unsuccessfully to dispel an odd impression that the big catlike animal with the girl was throwing a double shadow.
The Moderator’s chief receptionist also had some doubts about TT, and possibly about the sunbriefs, though she seemed impressed when Telzey’s identification tag informed her she was speaking to the daughter of Federation Councilwoman Jessamine Amberdon.
“You feel you can discuss this . . . emergency . . . only with the Moderator himself, Miss Amberdon?” she repeated.
“Exactly,” Telzey said firmly. A buzzer sounded as she spoke. The receptionist excused herself and picked up an earphone. She listened a moment, said blandly, “Yes . . . Of course . . . Yes, I understand,” replaced the earphone and stood up, smiling at Telzey.
“Would you come with me, Miss Amberdon?” she said. “I think the Moderator will see you immediately . . .”
Telzey followed her, chewing thoughtfully at her lip. This was easier than she’d expected—in fact, too easy! Halet’s work? Probably. A few comments to the effect of “A highly imaginative child . . . overexcitable,” while Halet was arranging to have the Moderator’s office authorize Tick-Tock’s transfer to the Life Banks, along with the implication that Jessamine Amberdon would appreciate a discreet handling of any disturbance Telzey might create as a result.
It was the sort of notion that would appeal to Halet—
* * *
They passed through a series of elegantly equipped offices and hallways, Telzey grasping TT’s neck-fur in lieu of a leash, their appearance creating a tactfully restrained wave of surprise among secretaries and clerks. And if somebody here and there was troubled by a fleeting, uncanny impression that not one large beast but two seemed to be trailing the Moderator’s visitor down the aisles, no mention was made of what could have been only a momentary visual distortion. Finally, a pair of sliding doors opened ahead, and the receptionist ushered Telzey into a large, cool balcony garden on the shaded side of the great building. A tall, gray-haired man stood up from the desk at which he was working, and bowed to Telzey. The receptionist withdrew again.
“My pleasure, Miss Amberdon,” Jontarou’s Planetary Moderator said, “Be seated, please.” He studied Tick-Tock with more than casual interest while Telzey was settling herself into a chair, added, “And what may I and my office do for you?”
Telzey hesitated. She’d observed his type on Orado in her mother’s circle of acquaintances—a senior diplomat, a man not easy to impress. It was a safe bet that he’d had her brought out to his balcony office only to keep her occupied while Halet was quietly informed where the Amberdon problem child was and requested to come over and take charge.
What she had to tell him now would have sounded rather wild even if presented by a presumably responsible adult. She could provide proof, but until the Moderator was already nearly sold on her story, that would be a very unsafe thing to do. Old Iron Thoughts was backing her up, but if it didn’t look as if her plans were likely to succeed, he would be willing to ride herd on his devil’s pack just so long . . .
Better start the ball rolling without any preliminaries, Telzey decided. The Moderator’s picture of her must be that of a spoiled, neurotic brat in a stew about the threatened loss of a pet animal. He expected her to start arguing with him immediately about Tick-Tock.
She said, “Do you have a personal interest in keeping the Baluit crest cats from becoming extinct?”
Surprise flickered in his eyes for an instant. Then he smiled.
“I admit I do, Miss Amberdon,” he said pleasantly. “I should like to see the species re-established. I count myself almost uniquely fortunate in having had the opportunity to bag two of the magnificent brutes before disease wiped them out on the planet.”
The last seemed a less than fortunate statement just now. Telzey felt a sharp tingle of alarm, then sensed that in the minds which were drawing the meaning of the Moderator’s speech from her mind there had been only a brief stir of interest.
She cleared her throat, said, “The point is that they weren’t wiped out by disease.”
He considered her quizzically, seemed to wonder what she was trying to lead up to. Telzey gathered her courage, plunged on, “Would you like to hear what did happen?”
“I should be much interested, Miss Amberdon,” the Moderator said without change of expression. “But first, if you’ll excuse me a moment . . .”
There had been some signal from his desk which Telzey hadn’t noticed, because he picked up a small communicator now, said, “Yes?” After a few seconds, he resumed, “That’s rather curious, isn’t it? . . . Yes, I’d try that . . . No, that shouldn’t be necessary . . . Yes, please do. Thank you.” He replaced the communicator, his face very sober; then, his eyes flicking for an instant to TT, he drew one of the upper desk drawers open a few inches, and turned back to Telzey.