IX

The question was, what had the death of Kenneth Glamis accomplished,

besides removing him from the scene? If blackmail had been afoot, then

that was stopped. Was there anything else?

Roy Auckland looked into the deadly box, and remembered that it had

not yet been established that the needle set inside it had really been

the cause of death. Shirley would have to examine it, under Edholm's

supervision.

The train of thought halted abruptly and he turned around.

"Ekem-ve...?" he started to say, then stopped as he realized that the

room was empty. Why had he thought a Vaec had entered?

What else had the murder accomplished? Well, the digging had been

stopped and the expedition was virtually at an end. The supply ship was

due soon, and it was almost certain that Edholm would insist that they

leave if the mystery hadn't been cleared up. Everyone wanted it cleared

up, but someone was promoting a false solution.

Anything else? He had been planning to spend some time with the Vaec.

Could that have any connection?

He snapped his fingers suddenly as Shirley came in. "I was just going

to look you up," he said. "There's something you can help me with."

She nodded listlessly and followed him to Glamis's room, which he had

sealed with a special lock of his own. He produced the key and ushered

her inside. It was as he had left it earlier.

"I want you to look around and see if anything appears to be missing."

As she hesitated, he added softly, "Don't pretend you're not familiar

with this room. You have spent quite a bit of time here."

There was a pleading look in her eyes as she said tiredly, "It's not

what you think, Roy."

"How do you know what I think? I didn't say you went to him willingly.

He had something on you, didn't he? That's what I think."

She sat down on the bed and buried her face in her hands, and he knew

she was crying soundlessly. "You don't have to tell me what it was," he

said. "Although you may have to tell someone else." He sat down beside

her and put his arm around her slim shoulders. She didn't flinch; her

body relaxed against him. "Think now, Shirl. Could anyone else have

discovered what it was?"

She raised her face, tear-stained. "Thanks, Roy. He wasn't like that;

he would have demanded to know everything."

"You don't have to tell me," Auckland repeated.

"But I want to," she said. "I've been afraid too long."

"Something to do with your resignation from the space service?" he

asked.

She nodded, and the story came out between bursts of tears. She hadn't

tried to save the passenger in the space-wreck. She had been in the

sick man's room when disaster struck, had panicked and started to run.

She'd struck her head, knocked herself out. By sheer coincidence, when

the others found her, it looked as if she had hurt herself in the

attempt to get him to safety.

No one suspected at the time, but accepting a citation was too much.

Yet, she hadn't the courage to tell the truth. She didn't think that

anyone save Glamis had found it out.

"How he knew, I'll never be able to figure out," she finished. "And the

worst of it was that he didn't really care. He never liked his brother,

and the inheritance came at a very convenient time for Kenneth Glamis.

I guess I must have given myself away when he called on me to thank me

for trying to save his bother--to thank me for failing, really. I knew

then I would have to do whatever he wanted me to do."

It was not an unpleasant task, comforting blonde Shirley Mason.

Eventually, they got back to the situation at hand. "He was untidy, yet

he always knew where everything here was," she said. "Have you any idea

of what it is you're looking for?"

Then it wasn't Glamis who had been seen leaving James's quarters, going

to his own, and searching. It was merely a man wearing a protective

suit, walking in Carolinian twilight. Could either of the two women

have dressed in such a way as to conceal the differences in outline

which the Vaec found so interesting and curious? It didn't seem likely

that either Shirley or Amelia could have passed for Glamis in the eyes

of a Vaec watching, even allowing for dim light and distance.

"Was Ken playing a joke on someone, Shirl?"

She nodded, bending over the open drawers of the desk. "He didn't tell

me who or what, but I knew he was up to something."

Auckland picked up a scrap of paper covered with doodles. "Could he

have been writing something?"

"He might have been," she said, then straightened up suddenly,

and said, "Of course!" She went to the file and started to finger

through it. "He kept a reel of tape filed under 'Projects,

Miscellaneous'--which was his code for humor. It was the only file he

really kept in order." An instant later, she added, "No tape."

* * * * *

Calvin Burleigh looked haggard, as if he had spent a sleepless night

on his knees, and there was a quality of tired resignation in his

voice. He closed the door of his quarters and motioned Auckland to a

chair. "I suppose you think I'm secretly glad about all this," he said.

Roy relaxed in the chair, wishing that they had brought some of the

seemingly magical chairs from the villa. "Are you?"

Burleigh shook his head. "There is spite in me and I disliked him very

much; my first feeling was one of satisfaction, Lord help me. But I'm

not really glad he's dead. I'm only relieved that we'll be leaving

Carolus."

"You really think man is so evil that he must be kept away from alien

beings?"

"Not evil, Roy. Just foolish and unready. I'm a scientist; I believe

that the universe contains many secrets which will be unlocked to

whomever asks the right questions. My life has been spent trying

to learn some of the right questions to ask. But we humans are too

impatient. We rush out and ask questions the answers to which are

dangerous to us because we've not asked the right questions about

ourselves yet, as a whole.

"Like a man who discovers that it is possible for blood to be

transfused from one person to another, but hasn't bothered to learn,

or even thought to ask, about the possibility of antagonistic

blood-types." He shrugged. "And sometimes you'll get away with it,

sheerly through luck."

Auckland nodded. "I see the point. But I don't see what you and I

can do about it, outside of trying to get some measure of humility

ourselves and trying to influence anyone else who will listen. And

always remembering that we may be awfully wrong just where we're sure

we are most right."

Burleigh smiled. "I couldn't have put it better myself." Auckland was

surprised at the warmth of that smile. "But I don't think you came here

for a philosophical and theological discussion, as much as I would be

willing to engage. I know that I'm a suspect, so go ahead and examine

me."

Auckland took out his notebook and leafed through it. "Doc James

dropped in on you after we broke up last night. What did he talk about?"

"The Rosetta stone book, mostly." Burleigh closed his eyes. "I had a

feeling that there was something else on his mind, something else he

really wanted to talk about but just couldn't get around to."

"Amelia, perhaps?"

"Perhaps."

"You've known him longer than I have, Cal. And I gather that Amelia

is something of a flirt." Burleigh said nothing, but there was the

slightest suggestion of a quirk around the corner of his lips. No doubt

he had noticed Auckland's own nocturnal excursions with the woman. "Was

James jealous? Was he jealous of Glamis, or you?"

"He had no reason to be jealous of me!" came the answer sharply.

"Unless, of course, she lied like Potiphar's wife about Joseph. But

I don't think that happened," he added after a pause. "She wants men

but she doesn't strike me as the kind who gets frantic if she can't

have a particular man, especially if there are other acceptable ones

available." The slight quirk appeared again.

"Do you think he was jealous of Glamis?"

"I don't think James is jealous of the fact that Amelia has any

particular affair in itself. But there's such a thing as carrying on

in a manner that's offensive in itself. I think he found Ken's manner

insufferable. And I think that she did, too, after a while. It had

stopped before you arrived, and for once, I don't think he was the one

who broke off."

"Any idea why?"

Burleigh tapped on the desk with his finger. "Amelia James is more than

you would suspect. In all other areas, she is a loyal and devoted wife.

I think that is why Howard isn't jealous of her." He looked out the

window. "I suppose you have your own theories about this business."

"I'd like to hear yours."

"Hmmm. Well, it seems to me, Auckland, that there's one very deceptive

thing about it all. You know the old fallacy, 'After it, therefore

because of it.' I think that trying to connect the alleged attempts on

Doc James and the murder of Ken Glamis is a trap."

"Then what was the meaning of the _dodlig_ in the soup and the bomb in

the basement?"

"Practical jokes, meant to be discovered. He was capable of pretty

sophomoric humor. But someone else either saw a use for them, or fitted

them into plans already made."

"You think Glamis would have been murdered anyway?"

"Possibly--no, I'd say more surely than that. But someone thought they

saw how it could be passed off as an accident in another attempt on

Howard." He declined a cigarette. "I'm not opposed to tobacco, just

don't go for it. Of course, there is the possibility that someone did

want to get Howard, and that Ken did get killed by mistake. But if

that's so, I still think that Ken perpetrated those two attempts out in

the field, and the real killer made use of them."

Auckland's gaze rested on the desk and his eyes ran down the side

to the intercom box. Suddenly he stiffened; the switch was on. Had

Burleigh been talking to someone else earlier, or...?

"Have you been in all the time since we came back, Cal?"

"Yes. Why?"

He stood up and looked out the window to see Edholm coming from the

storage shed. Then he wasn't the listener. "Nothing. Just a thought. I

think a good part of the key lies with the Vaec, but I don't see how

yet. I have an answer but it doesn't make sense, yet. I have a feeling

that Ekem-ve knows. He said to ask a question when the muddy thoughts

were clear; think I'll go over to the village, after a bite to eat."

There was just one more thing to do before he left, Auckland thought,

as he said good-bye and stepped out into the sunset. He found Edholm

in the office and maneuvered him outside, telling him about the open

intercom. "I told Burleigh so that whoever was listening would hear,

too. Keep an eye out, will you? I have a feeling that someone will

follow me later."

X

Beyond the meadow which held the headquarters unit was the Carolinian

equivalent of woods; a series of clusters of trees, each cluster

containing only its own kind, with high bushes in between. There were

patches of fungoid growths which glowed in the darkness and took shapes

which would offend the eyes of the prurient.

It was stillness that made the Carolinian night so unlike that of

Earth's countryside in summer. There was no chorus of insect voices,

no frog singing from the marshlands to the east. He wondered again if

the planet did have such life forms and if they had withdrawn when

the Earthmen came. The Vaec had indicated that most of the animal and

insect life had retired thus.

Except for fish, of course. Syeltan and others did some fishing in the

stream.

He took out the map that Edholm had sketched for him and looked at it

with his pencil-light. This was the grove of bird-trees, so called

because the long thin limbs bore short-stemmed leaves that stood up and

looked like feathers. During the day they spread themselves fan-wise,

closing up at night.

At the end of this grove, he should turn right and go straight until

he reached the stream. Then a left turn, and he would follow the banks

until he came to a grove of the willow-like trees shaped like a letter

_V_, with the point at the stream itself.

Bushes now, and these, unlike the trees, were not in homogeneous

clusters. Some spread along the ground, forming patterns not unlike

spider webs. But most of them were as tall as a man. He stopped by

one which was filled with globes about a quarter-inch in diameter. He

started to pick one, curiously.

And jumped at the report as it burst in his fingers and he felt it

spattering. Pop-balls! His fingers were covered with a dark substance,

thin as ink and his shirt showed stains. Damn! he thought, and then

grinned. So this was what had been planned for Syeltan. I suppose it

won't wash off easily, he thought.

The stream was a little way distant, and provided the first sound he

had heard outside that of his own soft footfalls and breathing. A

few bushes more and he was at its bank. It stretched brightly before

him and he shook his head; this didn't seem right. There was no moon

to make water silvery. Then he realized that the brightness was the

glowing forms of innumerable water bugs skating over its surface. The

stream flowed sluggishly here, and he watched for a moment.

There was a slight stirring in the water and the surface broke

momentarily; a patch of lightness scattered. Some fish was feeding.

He watched for a while, seeing the sparkles of the bugs as they broke

apart then drew together again. He wondered where they hid themselves

by day.

Might as well see if I can wash this off, he thought as he knelt beside

the stream and plunged his hands into the cool water. The brightness

drew away in a wide circle as his hand neared the surface. He rubbed

his fingers for a while then dried them on the grass-moss on which he

was kneeling. No soap, both literally and figuratively.

Auckland sighed, rose, and continued his journey, avoiding clusters of

rushes he encountered from time to time. They shot up like icicles, and

from spiky-looking branches at top, pear-shaped flowers depended like

Christmas tree ornaments. By daylight, they would open and spread out

like tiny pancakes. _Dodlig._

The _V_ of the willow grove was in sight when a voice said, "May your

heart be mirthful, excellent Roy."

He looked around to see a Carolinian standing to one side, the single

hair on his skull looping. There were mottlings on the Vaec's face and

more spots in his chest. Auckland smiled. "And may laughter lighten

your life, Syeltan. Muddy thoughts have settled and I would ask a

question of Ekem-ve. But I would not ask you to demean yourself by

being my guide."

"This careless one seeks Ekem-ve also," replied Syeltan. "Much

happiness in walking with excellent Earthman."

* * * * *

Ekem-ve's dwelling was a large, unadorned square, like the units in the

villa, Auckland saw, and rested in a small clearing. Light spilled out

of the triangular doorway, the white light he had seen in the villa. As

they crossed the clearing toward it, Ekem-ve appeared in the doorway

and welcomed them, his hair waving gently. Auckland thought of a dog

who is not quite sure whether he is approved, but hopes that all will

be well, then discarded the thought. The Vaec's eyes rested on Syeltan

and his hair increased its motion. So, he's just learned that his trick

worked, Roy thought.

"Excellent Roy makes heart of humble Vaec sing with visit," Ekem-ve

said as he motioned them inside.

"Earthman's heart is humble with realization of ignorance," Auckland

replied. "I come seeking wisdom."

The room was triangular, he saw, with a partition down the middle.

Simply furnished, only chairs much like those in the villa were

visible. He could find no source of the light, which was bright enough

to read by, yet soft and comforting to the eyes. The walls were covered

with Vaec designs and walls and floor seemed to be a single sheet of

substance. It did not feel as hard as that of the villa, however, being

a trifle springy underfoot, but it didn't creak.

Clearly this was not the dwelling-place of a primitive. There was an

advanced technology behind its simplicity. The chairs looked much like

the magic chairs, except that the cane frames were filled in with a

sort of matting. He settled into one at Ekem-ve's bidding, and Syeltan

took another. It was just barely short of one of the villa chairs for

comfort.

"Excellent Roy has thirst which is enemy to mirth," Ekem-ve said. "Will

deign to swallow liquid of Vaec?"

As Auckland hesitated, the Carolinian added, "Excellent Earthmen

accompanying excellent Jonas imbibe same after many tests and declare

not harmful. But prefer own liquids."

"I shall be happy to accept," Auckland said.

Ekem-ve strode to the partition which opened from the bottom, fan-wise,

when he stood before it, then closed after him. The room was dark

behind the opening, but Auckland assumed that the light would go on

immediately--unless the Vaec could see in the dark, which he suspected.

In a moment, the door reopened, light spilling out, and Ekem-ve

returned with three cubes set upon each other. He handed one to Roy,

then a second to Syeltan, taking the third himself. As if reading the

Earthman's thoughts, he said, "No mirth in spoiling liquid, excellent

Roy."

Auckland lifted the cube to his nostrils and sniffed gingerly. The odor

was vaguely pleasing, but he couldn't decide what it was. There was a

faint suggestion of cinnamon, and a suspicion of vanilla, but not quite

either. He shook the cube slightly and noted that the liquid had about

the viscosity of water.

The first impression when he sipped was one of coolness, and a feeling

like that of spring water though not as cold. There was a very slight

pungence and a very slight sweetness, neither unpleasant. It seemed to

have the thirst-slaking properties of water.

"Vaec liquid clasps hands with mirth, something like Earth liquid,"

said Ekem-ve, "but does not promote false wisdom or seek more of

itself. One cube takes thirst on long journey."

Auckland felt that he wanted to drain the cube steadily, neither

gulping nor sipping. He finished and set it down on the floor, as he

saw Ekem-ve and Syeltan doing. He could feel mild euphoria setting in,

but nothing akin to intoxication; and he knew that if the cube were

refilled he would not have the slightest desire to take another swallow.

"Ekem-ve," he said, after praising the drink, "the Vaec have been very

friendly to Earthmen. We have tried to be friends with the Vaec. We

have shown you much about ourselves, and you have seen much that we

did not wish to show. Yet we have not concealed anything from that you

asked us about."

"Excellent Roy speaks words of truth."

"Yet you have told us nothing about how the Vaec live, about your

technology, when we asked. Why is that?"

The Carolinian's hair was motionless now. "Excellent Earthmen have

custom, not answer some questions. Wise Earthmen not ask some

questions. Some Earthmen shut away from answers that other Earthmen

obtain when admitted to clan that knows answers."

"Yes, I see what you mean. Captain Edholm is not permitted to tell me

some things which he could tell another captain."

"Answer excellent Roy seeks grow on similar tree. Wisdom can be

gathered only by member of Vaec clan."

Roy Auckland frowned. There was something strange about this, something

that did not fit. With a truly primitive culture, it would be

understandable, but the Vaec were not primitive. Nor could all aspects

of their technology be security matters. He looked at Syeltan and

Ekem-ve, whose single hairs were now quite still, the eyes giving no

signs. But he had the feeling they were expecting something of him.

"Long ago, on Earth," he said, "there were people who lived in clans,

and each clan had its own ritual of acceptance. Many things were

forbidden to those who were not members, but a stranger who had proved

his worth could be adopted into the clan, or by passing tests could

qualify himself as a special friend of the clan. Is it possible for an

Earthman to be adopted into the Vaec, or qualify as a special friend of

the Vaec, one who is entitled to wisdom?"

Ekem-ve looked at Syeltan, and both Carolinian hairs stirred slightly.

"Wise question brings happy answer, excellent Roy. Earthman undergo

tests, may be brother of Vaec."

"And what are the tests?"

"Same as given to young Vaec on doorway to adulthood. Test of skill,

test of mind, test of understanding."

"Among these early Earth people," Auckland said, "it was necessary to

undergo periods of waiting and special preparation before the candidate

would be given the tests. Are such preliminaries required with the

Vaec?"

"Excellent Roy has fulfilled preliminary requirement," said Ekem-ve.

"Test of skill in morning if excellent Roy would be happy to spend

night with humble Vaec."

"I would indeed be happy."

Ekem-ve arose. "While we talk, friends come to visit. Will play

excellent Earthman's games."

Syeltan arose also and picked up his chair, carrying it outside.

Auckland followed suit, and saw several Vaec approaching, two of whom

he recognized as Hcent and Phrecle. Syeltan introduced him to the

other two: Rycur and Nsenol. Nsenol was somewhat narrower of face

and a trifle slimmer than the others, except for Hcent, and Auckland

wondered if this indicated sex differentiation. Hcent was the only Vaec

they knew as a female, since Ekem-ve and the others referred to Hcent

as she. Not very often, though, as the Vaec used the proper name in

preference to the pronoun.

Ekem-ve was coming out with the top of a table, shaped in the form of

a regular heptagon. Like his dwelling and the villa, it appeared to

be utterly black and in one piece; but from the way he carried it, it

was very light. He carried it like a waiter carrying a tray. When he

stopped and lowered it slightly, Hcent came forward and pulled seven

long, thin strips from the underside and rested it on the ground. The

two Vaec pressed their hands on the table and the supports sank into

the grass-moss. Auckland touched it tentatively; apparently it was set

solidly enough.

He turned and started back into the dwelling to help with chairs, but

Syeltan said, "Excellent Earthman guest; not work."

He watched while the rest of the chairs were being brought out

and decided that there must be a lot of furniture in the farther,

closed-off part of the dwelling. That seemed somewhat strange, though.

Now Ekem-ve was bringing out a globe about the size of a muskmelon. He

raised it at arm's length and drew out a single strip much like the

legs of the table, setting it in the grass-moss a few feet away from

the table. Behind him the light in the dwelling faded and the door

closed. Syeltan had brought out a pack of cards, boxes of chips, and a

windup timer similar to the one which had been used in the bomb in the

villa.

Auckland wondered whether they realized that he would have difficulty

reading the cards in this light, but his apprehensions vanished as the

globe began to glow, casting a clear but glareless radiance over the

table. Ekem-ve motioned all to be seated, and as he took his chair,

Auckland noticed that seven equal piles of chips had been laid out.

"Excellent Earthman set value on chips," said Ekem-ve. "Game of skill,

no possessions at stake; winner accumulate chips of all."

"The white chips equal one unit," said Auckland. "Red chips are worth

five white, blue chips worth two red or ten white. I assume the game is

to be poker."

"Even so, excellent Roy."

"Then I will gladly play by your rules, but need to know what they are.

I assume the value of hands is standard, but you will have to tell me

what kinds of poker we will play, and what are your rules for betting

and dealing."

"No limit on amount wagered, excellent Roy, but player with

insufficient chips may remain in hand until showdown; if lose, is out

of game. If win, restore to table shortness of bet. Dealer choose rules

for hand; rules continue until future dealer declare change."

"And is there a time-limit on the game?" asked Auckland, looking at the

timer.

"No, excellent Roy. Some dealer create mirth by use of timer in own

deal." He passed the cards to Auckland. "Will excellent Earthman begin?"

Auckland picked up the deck and shuffled it. "First ace will deal,"

he said, starting to pass the cards around face up. The ace fell to

Nsenol, and Auckland passed the deck to her--he found himself thinking

of Nsenol as female, even though he had no proof as yet.

The first few hands were orthodox draw and stud, and Auckland lost

three, his own deal of seven-card stud included, the last time bowing

with aces high to Rycur, who had filled an inside straight. Then the

wild hands started, and the Earthman found himself a little dizzy

trying to keep up with the complications. On the sixth, he took the

pot, finding himself a few white chips ahead in the process. Vaec

betting was uninhibited to say the least.

After another two losses--small because he dropped early, as he noted

some of the others did at times--he began to get ideas. Poker was to

the Vaec a game of wits, each dealer making complicated rules which

favored him strongly, although the dealer did not always win, he noted.

Now it was Syeltan's deal, and the temporarily spotted Carolinian took

the timer, which Auckland now saw was double-faced, and placed it where

all could see. The Vaec had taken two timers apart and made one of

them, with the windup mechanism on the side, rather than the back.

"Seven-card stud," Syeltan said. "Red seven wild between 12 and 15;

black three wild between 15 and 30; jack triumph over king, and deuce

over 7 between 30 and 45; low hand high between 45 and 60." He set the

timer and started to deal, then stopped it when the last card in this

round was up. Red sevens wild, Auckland thought. The timer was started

again, after the betting.

Before the deal was over, his brain was reeling and he felt a little

dizzy as he watched his own hand, the other hands laid out, and the

ticking timer. He felt a little stupid at the time he took to make

bets, but noticed that no one else was in any hurry. Yet, despite the

complications of these recent hands, he managed to win two of them, and

was still a little ahead. But this one took the prize.

The final wagers started and Auckland watched the still-ticking timer

as the bets went around. Now the jack beat the king, and the deuce was

higher than the seven. He looked at his hand and sighed, then studied

his hole cards and the hands around him. He seemed to have a winning

low if he could make a showdown at the right time. Then he remembered:

Phrecle had instituted a rule permitting anyone to equal the bets on

the table and declare final showdown once the deal was finished and

a complete round of bets had been made. As dealer, Phrecle had done

this himself at the end of the first round. That rule had not been

rescinded, so was still in force. And Auckland would bet right after

Syeltan.

He waited for Syeltan to raise, then glanced at the clock. Two seconds

more; he had it. He pushed his chips to the center of the table and

said "Final showdown."

Syeltan's long fingers snaked out and stopped the timer. Auckland

looked at it, and cursed himself silently for a hasty fool. He had

forgotten to ask when that final stopping would take place, and the

hands rested about a half-second short of 45. The almost-perfect low

he held was useless. As Phrecle, the winner, swept the chips from the

center of the table and added them to his own pile, Auckland had a

sinking feeling. Somehow, he felt that a great deal depended upon his

making a good show in this game, and he'd just displayed himself as the

crassest of bunglers.