But Halsey saw on our image that Molo was staying. "Wait. Let them go.
If we have the Martian here, that's better."
I saw the room's escape-port swing open as Meka and the hooded shape
carrying the box moved for it. The moonlit darkness of the outer
catwalk enveloped the disappearing figures.
Molo was left alone. He closed the port swiftly. His detector now was
in his hand, but Halsey anticipated him by a second or two. Our
listener went dead; our mirror darkened. Doubtless Molo was never sure
whether he had been spied on or not.
Halsey was on his feet. "Foley, get out into the main room. Stay with
him."
But there was no need to follow Molo. He had sent his visitor and
sister out by the escape-port, which was usual enough; now he was back
in the main room as though nothing of importance had happened, with an
appearance of intoxication about him. He wavered jovially across the
room, threading his way through the gay diners, and reached the table
where his party still sat carousing.
Again Halsey shut us off.
"He's got a base somewhere in the city; you heard what they said about
it. We've got to trick him into going there, unsuspecting."
Halsey seized the audiphone. "Your chance, Venza. It's the only way.
Foley, keep away from that Martian. Shut off all contacts. I'll meet
you out there in a moment. I'm sending a girl; she'll go after him."
"Now?" Venza asked.
"Yes. It's the only way. Perhaps you can get him drinking. Venza, use
all the wiles you possess now."
"No!" gasped Snap. "It's too dangerous!"