abc | Page 3

"And she is going to marry him?" Hunter asked. "Marry that jackass
and let him bankrupt her kingdom?"
Rockford shrugged. "You may have noticed that she doesn't look the
least bit happy about it--but she is a very conscientious young lady who
regards it as her most solemn duty to keep the promise she made to her
father. For her, there is no escape."
"But--"
"Your first duty will be to cultivate a friendship with her. I'm going to
use her, and you, to get what I want."
"Use us?"
"Yes. One of the most rigid requirements of a Strategic Service man's
character is that he be completely without one."
* * * * * * * * *
Rockford was asleep in his chair an hour later, three empty beer cans
beside him. Hunter watched him, his doubt of Rockford's competence
growing into a conviction. Rockford had spoken knowingly of his
plan--and had done nothing but drink more beer. Now he was asleep
while time--so limited and precious--went by. He hadn't even bothered
to reply to Hunter's suggestion that perhaps he should call on Val Boran
and counteract some of Envoy Sonig's anti-Terran propaganda.
Hunter came to a decision. If Rockford was still doing nothing when
morning came, he would send an urgent message to Supreme

Command.
He went outside, to find a servant and learn how mail was handled.
* * * * *
"Rook out!"
Gravel flew as overgrown feet tried to stop, and something like a huge
black dog lunged headlong around the corner and into his legs. He went
to the ground head first over the animal, acutely aware as he went down
of the fascinated interest on the face of a not-so-distant servant.
"I sorry, Rootenant."
He got up, to look down at the doglike animal. There was a concerned
expression in its brown eyes and an apologetic grin on its face. He
recognized it as one of the natives of the grim starvation world of Altair
Four. The Altairians had emigrated to all sections of the galaxy, to earn
a living in whatever humble capacity they could fill. Many were
empathic.
"I run too fast to meet, Mr. Rockford, I guess. Are you hurt,
Rootenant?"
He pulled a cloud tree needle out of his hand and looked grimly down
into the furry face. "In the future, try to look where you're going."
"Oh, I rook, awr right. I just not see. My name is Aronzo, Rootenant,
and I stay here awr the time and guard everything for Princess Ryra. I
prease to meet you and I wirr run errands for you, and do things rike
mair your retters, for candy or cookies, which I are not supposed to eat
much of, but Princess Ryra say not too many wirr hurt me--"
"Mail letters?" Hunter's animosity vanished. "I'm sorry I was rude,
Alonzo--all my fault. I may write a letter to my dear old mother tonight,
and if you would mail it for me in the morning--"
* * * * *

Rockford left ahead of Hunter and it was a minute past the appointed
time when Hunter reached the meeting hall. He heard Narf's loud voice
inside:
"... Boran must have stopped to watch the sunset. Told him I wanted
everyone here on time--"
The low voice of Lyla said something and Narf said, "Not necessary for
you to defend him, my dear. I made it plain to him."
A new voice spoke from behind Hunter:
"It seems I have annoyed Lord Narf."
He was a tall, black-eyed man, with the dark, saturnine face of an
Indian. There was a strange, indefinable air of sadness about him which
reminded Hunter of the sombre little Princess Lyla.
"You're Val Boran, sir?" he said. "I'm Lieutenant Hunter--"
Inside, Narf sat at the head of the table. On his left was Lyla, then
Rockford. On his right was a spidery little man of about fifty, his
slick-back hair so tight against his skull that it gave his head the
appearance of a weasel's. His lips were paper-thin under a long nose,
like those of a dry and selfish old maid, but the round little eyes darting
behind thick glasses were cold and shrewd and missed nothing. He
would be Verdam's Special Envoy Sonig. Hunter appraised him as a
man very dangerous in his own deceptive way.
A servant showed them to their places at the table. Rockford and Val
Boran exchanged greetings. The moment everyone was seated, Narf
said, "Dinner tonight will--"
"Excuse me," Lyla said, "but Mr. Sonig hasn't yet met--"
"Oh ... the young fellow there--" Narf gestured with his hand.
"Rockford's aide. Now, ring the chime, Lyla. Those forest stag steaks
are already getting cold. I killed the beast myself, gentlemen, just this

morning; a long-range