The girl had obviously been waiting in the lobby for Alston to come
from psycho. She intercepted him purposefully, but with odd hesitation.
"You're Alston."
It was statement, not question. For a nasty moment Alston was afraid
that she belonged to his blanked-out memories. Eyes like cloudy gray
ice stopped him with a shock like recognition, and there was something
familiar about her voice. The momentary hesitation was a clue that
she was not sure of him, and everything but the eyes and voice was a
stranger. Relief made him weak.
Six years ago she would have been too young for his notice, and
nothing since then could be important. She was tall, slender but
shapely, with an angular face and creamy tan skin coloring no one
ever gets on eternally overcast Venus. Honey-blonde hair draped
bare shoulders in a long bob, and the expensive gown of turquoise
metal-cloth molded her body as if sprayed on. It was cut scant enough
to show a lot of her skin, and a length of nyloned leg which might have
stirred biological impulses in a man with less on his mind.
"People usually just point at me," he observed bitterly. "Yes, I'm
Alston."
Tourists were always startled by the apparent freedom of the convict
parolees on Venus. But this was no staring, curious tourist. She was
somebody's spoiled darling, and her manner of casual arrogance grated
on him. Rising irritation made him belligerent.
"Somebody just did, by request. I didn't want to miss you."
"All right," he snapped. "I'm one of the sights. Now that you've seen
me, go away."
She stiffened, and the turquoise gown stiffened with her, but she
deliberately ignored his rudeness. "Animals in cages don't interest
me," she observed. "I'm Kial Nasron, if the name means anything to you."
Alston explored the temporarily limited range of his memory, drew
blank. Until the hypnotic amnesia wore off, he was outclassed in
guessing games. "Should it?" he asked cautiously.
"Perhaps not. Maybe it's better if you prefer to forget everything. Is
there some place we can talk?"
Panic nagged Alston with the fleeting minutes. Just now any delay might
be fatal to his plans. If he were nasty enough she might let him go.
"Right here," he said viciously. "It's public enough so we won't run
out of conversation too quickly."
She paled and sparks flickered in her eyes, but Kial Nasron controlled
her anger and spoke swiftly. "Six years is not long enough for a man
to forget my sister Annelle. They just don't. No matter. We'll talk
about you. Director Hailard says you know more about the Tihar Forest
than anyone else. He says you can help us, if you will. And I'm not
asking favors for old times' sake. Whatever your personal feelings may
be, you've got to help us. We'll be very grateful. My father is more
important now than he was before. He can do you a lot of good, and I
know he'll do anything in his power."