Heart of Stone
The inhabitants of the city often tell visitors that dawn is the most beautiful time of day there. They speak of how the light spreads from the Eastern Ocean, highlighting towers and statues, the architectural heritage of centuries. As the light intensifies, the city materializes as if by magic from the golden haze. Of course, the Elakkadians rarely mention that much of the time, the most noticeable thing coming off the ocean at dawn is a cold, thick fog, that may not lift until it is almost time for the sun to sink behind the Western Mountains. On days like that, the inhabitants, and the many visitors - for Elakkadia is an important space port, and is always filled with travellers from many worlds - stumble through a clammy world that appears to be wrapped in grimy cotton wool. They trip over obstacles in the street, coughing and muttering to themselves. Today, the ocean had decided, in its generosity, to wrap the city in an extra dose of fog, and add some scattered cold drizzle for variety. In one of the dingier alleyways in one of the less respectable parts of the city, two small figures, huddled for shelter between a warehouse wall and a line of storage bins, were waking up. "Bova? Are you awake?" said one, groggily. "It's so dark - is it even morning yet?" The other figure showed marked reluctance to face the famed Elakkadian dawn. After his companion repeated her comments, and finally shook him with some vigour, he opened one eye. "Probably, Rosie. In fact, I'm so hungry it must be nearly lunchtime." "Oh, don't mention food," replied Rosie. "I'm starving. We haven't had anything to eat since lunchtime yesterday. I could eat anything - even some of those narf intestines that Radu eats would sound good right now." "Hey!" said Bova, finally sitting up and stretching. "You were the one who said not to mention food." They looked around, trying to get their bearings. The night before they hadn't paid much attention to where they were; they had been so exhausted from the events of the day, so cold and damp that they had finally taken the shelter of the alley without caring about anything except that it was somewhat warmer and drier than the street down which they had been creeping. Around them they saw wet stone and brick, scattered garbage and assorted refuse, with a sullen sky above filled with lowering clouds. Finally, they looked at each other, silent except for their growling stomachs. "We're going to be okay, aren't we, Bova?" said Rosie finally, trying to sound her most optimistic. "I mean, we're not in too much trouble, are we?" "Rosie, look at us. We're all alone here in a city we've never been in before. We've no money, no food, and the police are after us. I'd say we were in more trouble than even I could imagine." Rosie put her head down on her knees for a moment. She tried to think how the crew's visit to Elakkadia had gone so horribly wrong. Of course, Commander Goddard and Miss Davenport had been careful about letting a group of young people (suffering badly from cabin fever) off the ship to explore an unknown city. Harlan and Suzee, in particular, had been practically tumbling out the airlock door in their eagerness to get off the ship. Miss Davenport told them sternly that they were not going to be allowed to charge through an unsuspecting city like rampaging Visigoths, and, seeing their blank expressions, made a mental note to cover more Earth history. She and Commander Goddard went out for what Goddard called a "reconnaissance mission", and came back about an hour later. "This seems to be such a nice, friendly city," said Miss Davenport, on returning. "We went to their central information department, to get some basic information on the city, and the attendant there was so eager to be of service." "So, can we get going now? I'm dying to stretch my legs on solid ground," said Harlan, impatiently. "Not just yet," said Goddard. "We've got to spend about two hours resupplying the Christa, and updating our charts for the next stage of our voyage." Soft groans were heard from the rest of the crew. "After lunch, Miss Davenport and I have made some plans for an interesting afternoon for you." "Really?" said Bova, dubiously. "Of course!" replied Miss Davenport. "The assistant at the Information Department helped me plan a full afternoon's tour of the most important historical and artistic sights of the city. We're even going to get a tour of the City Museum, which is apparently one of the wonders of this sector." "Great!" said Rosie. The rest of the crew murmured "Oh, great," with considerably less enthusiasm. "Hey, right!" chimed in Harlan. "I haven't seen him since we started. Trust him to disappear when there's some real work to be done." Bova had, early on, been left for about fifteen seconds without anything specific to do. Taking this as an indication that he would not be needed for any further duties, he had headed back to the bunkroom to indulge two consuming passions - his oldest and his newest. First was his most basic craving, food - a large sandwich from the galley, loaded with everything extra the Christa could supply (which was a lot). Second was one that was still unknown rest of the crew. Bova had recently developed an obsession with mystery novels. He had discovered them tucked away in one of the many strange crannies and storage areas of the Christa, one that he would have sworn he had investigated several times before and found nothing. However, there they were, in a dusty storage box - books, such as Miss Davenport had shown them, but, he realized, not science books, history books or medical books. He had started to leaf through one, and been thoroughly hooked before he had turned more than a few pages. Somehow, he felt that Miss Davenport would not have approved of these as much as the other books they had found. They didn't seem to have any practical purpose. But they appealed to the analytical side of his nature; he enjoyed the game of trying to spot the culprit before the official revelation at the end of the story. The grim subject matter also gave him some deep inner satisfaction. He settled down with his sandwich, dug his book out from under his mattress, and began to read. The book he was currently reading was definitely the best yet. "October 17th. All day to-day the rain poured down, rustling on the ivy and dripping from the eaves. I thought of the convict out upon the bleak, cold, shelterless moor. Poor devil! Whatever his crimes, he has suffered something to atone for them. And then I thought of that other one - the face in the cab, the figure against the moon. Was he also out in that deluge - the unseen watcher, the man of darkness?" Bova shivered in sympathy, and took another bite of his sandwich. "In the evening I put on my waterproof and I walked far upon the sodden moor, full of dark imaginings, the rain beating upon my face and the wind whistling about my ears. God help those who wander into the great mire now, for even the firm uplands are becoming a morass. I found the black tor upon which I had seen the solitary watcher, and from its craggy summit I looked out myself across the melancholy downs." Bova paused momentarily, taking out his Compu-Pad to obtain definitions for "morass" and "tor". Finding the meanings appropriately melancholy, he plunged on. "Rain squalls drifted across their russet face, and the heavy, slate-coloured clouds hung low over the landscape, trailing in gray wreaths down the sides of the fantastic hills. In the distant hollow on the left, half hidden by the mist, the two thin towers of Baskerville Hall rose above the trees. They were the only signs of human life which I could see, save only those prehistoric huts which lay thickly upon the slopes of the hills. Nowhere was there any trace of that lonely man whom I had seen on the same spot two nights before." Suddenly Bova was jolted back to reality by a sarcastic voice in his left ear. "Mr. Bova, if you have nothing better to do right now, perhaps you could assist the rest of the crew in the cargo bay!" He looked up to see Commander Goddard scowling at him. "Right away, sir," said Bova, through a mouthful of sandwich. He quickly stuffed the book back under the mattress, as he shoved the remains of his sandwich into his mouth. Following the Commander down the hallway, he tried to explain how he had just been in the way, and had left the cargo hold in order to make the job easier for everyone else. Inside, though, an ember of resentment burned. As one of the smallest members of the Christa's crew, he was overlooked often enough. Why shouldn't he enjoy the occasional benefit of insignificance, as well as the drawbacks? By the time the resupply detail was over, and lunch had been gulped down (Bova devouring another huge sandwich), everyone was ready to get out of the Space Port, and into the city. It was evident that Miss Davenport had an ambitious cultural program set for the day, and Harlan and the rest of the crew got their legs thoroughly stretched. They saw the Palace of Eustazia, home of the ancient rulers of the city; they climbed to the top of the Marekin Tower, where a legendary hero had supposedly died after single-handedly delivering the city from enemy hordes; they toured the famous Bazaar of Bralk, where exotic merchandise from over twenty sectors of space was sold from outdoor stalls. Since Miss Davenport had issued them a small amount of pocket money, Harlan, Suzee, Rosie and Bova used it up there, loading themselves down with boxes and bags of souvenirs. Radu made the mistake of offering to help Suzee carry her purchases, and ended up carrying everyone else's as well. Finally, footsore and rather breathless, they ended up at the Elakkadia City Museum. It was a large, stately building, which they entered through an impressively carved stone doorway. "Wait here a moment," said Miss Davenport, as they entered the dark interior. "The person at the Information Department told me to ask for Dr. Cavitorius, the Curator. He gives a special tour each day before the Museum closes." She went over and spoke to an attendant, who directed them to a rotund, elderly man with a fringe of gray hair, already surrounded by several prospective tour members. "Hello, hello!" he said, brightly. "So glad you could join us. We Elakkadians are always excited to meet new people, from new parts of space. Particularly, it is a pleasure to show you some of our most prized historical treasures." He smiled at them genially, as they waited for the last members of the tour to gather. Dr. Cavitorius soon proved he could set a tougher pace than even Miss Davenport. They moved at a near-run though room after room representing the history of Elakkadia - primitive artefacts of early settlement, opulent remnants of the long-ago Elakkadian monarchy, and more subdued relics of its replacement, the strange governmental system called the Octarchy, whereby Elakkadia was ruled by representatives of the eight most powerful families of the city. "Eventually," Cavitorius explained, "the Octarchy was replaced by the Republic we enjoy today, that has brought Elakkadia nearly three hundred years of peace and prosperity. Three thousand years ago, we started as a trading post for travellers who arrived by canoe and raft, and we now welcome visitors from the stars. But through all the changes," he continued, exuding civic pride, "our city has remained devoted to its three central values; liberty, integrity and reasonable duty on imports and exports." He beamed at the assembled group, as he led them towards an arched doorway. "And now, you will see the greatest and most important treasure our Museum is honoured to have in its keeping - the Heart of Elakkadia!" They moved into a small, darkened room, obviously set up for dramatic effect. In the centre, they could see a transparent case, shaped like a high dome, with about half a dozen spotlights trained on it. Light seemed to dance from the case, creating rainbows that shifted around the room. Cavitorius paused, then gestured for everyone to gather around the case. As they drew closer, everyone forgot to breathe for a moment. Inside the case was a golden rod on a rotating platform. It was about two feet long, and was apparently meant to be held as a sceptre. The length of the shaft was studded with jewels of various sorts, but what held the audience in stunned silence was the gem mounted at the top of the rod. It was a huge oval stone, larger than a man's fist, glittering with a dazzling luminescence. A deep red glow emanated from its depths. "This stone, the Heart," Cavitorius began softly, "was found, legend says, when the foundation walls of Elakkadia were being dug. Because of its shape and size, and particularly because of its inner dark red colour, it was called the Heart of Elakkadia. The first ruler of our city mounted it in this sceptre, and it was always the most important of the Crown jewels. Even during the years of the Octarchy and the Republic, it has been our most honoured symbol of government. When the Great Council of our beloved City meets, the Heart is taken to the Council Chamber, and no government decrees would be considered legal unless they were ratified in the presence of the Heart." "In fact," he smiled, "legend says that if the Heart ever leaves the City, the City will fall. Of course, no one knows for sure - the Heart has never left the City in three thousand years. Enemy armies have besieged us, demanding it, and it only, as our ransom. Thieves have formed the most elaborate and complex plans. But all for nothing. The Heart," he finished, his voice suddenly husky with emotion, "has never left us." An appropriate silence ensued, as they all stared at the revolving Heart. Finally, one of the other tour members, who had earlier identified himself as a Gerovian trader, asked the question that nearly everyone was wondering. "So, Doc," he said, casually, "what's a rock like that worth?" Cavitorius winced slightly, but it was clearly a question he was asked on a regular basis. "The Heart is unique, and irreplaceable. It would be almost impossible to place a monetary value on it. I can only say that its worth is probably close to that of our whole City - and we are a very prosperous city." Another hush fell on the group. The rhythmic shifting of the reflections from the Heart, as it rotated under the spotlights, was somehow hypnotic. Suzee, who was stooping to get an eye-level view of the relic, finally spoke. "If the Heart is so valuable, you must have quite a security set-up." "Of course," replied Cavitorius. "The Heart is encased in a dome of Peragonium crystal - virtually unbreakable. The base of the dome is kept sealed with a lock made of Kerinthinan alloy, extremely strong. You may have noticed there is only one entrance to this room, and the walls and floors are of solid stone. Finally, the whole room is under constant surveillance with strategically placed video cameras. Any suspicious movement would result in guards appearing at the door," he motioned toward it with his hand, "and the thief would be apprehended. Of course, any sensible thief would be unlikely even to try. Although the Elakkadian system of justice is one of the most modern and humane in this sector, it contains one law that has not changed since the foundation of the city. The penalty for any attempt on the Heart is death - the only crime, indeed, with so severe a punishment." He paused, solemnly. "You said that the Heart is taken to the Council Chamber," said Suzee, her engineering interests engaged. "How do you get the Heart out of the case?" "Good question, good question," smiled Cavitorius. He motioned for her to move around to the side of the case for a better view. "The lock can only be opened by three keys at once. One key, the Green Key, is kept by the Chief Minister of the Great Council. The second key, the Red Key, is placed in the keeping of the leader of the Opposition Party. This provides a nice constitutional balance of power." "And the third key?" said the Gerovian trader, who appeared as interested as Suzee. "The third key, the Black Key, is in the possession of the Primary Officer for Civic Safety and Security," replied Cavitorius. "You mean the Chief of Police?" asked Goddard, who had a talent for interpreting bureaucratic titles. "Essentially correct." said Cavitorius, with another almost imperceptible wince. "All three must meet here, in this room, and insert their keys into the lock, in sequence, then turn them all at the same time." He indicated the three sockets visible on the side of the case. "Then the Kerinthinan bar that holds the case shut can be removed." He pointed to a metal bar, about the thickness of his finger, overlaying a lip of crystal that projected from the transparent dome. "Then the dome is lifted, and the Chief Minister removes the Heart. The three participants then proceed ceremonially to the Great Council Chamber. It is one of our more colourful public occasions." Suzee nodded at the explanation, but was frowning to herself. The whole set-up had a medieval feel; appropriate to the setting, but not very reassuring. If she were guarding a priceless gem, she would have preferred a decent force field and some retinal scanners to any number of locks and bars. "That concludes our tour for the day, ladies and gentlemen," announced Cavitorius. He took a step towards the door. Just then, the spotlights flickered twice, flared briefly, and went out completely, leaving the windowless room in darkness. People started milling about, and a moaning wail arose. The crew of the Christa immediately identified it as Miss Davenport. "Please don't worry," they heard Cavitorius say, raising his voice over the tumult. "This is an old building, and we have been having some difficulty with the power grid recently. The lights will come back on shortly." There was a pause, while the lights remained resolutely out, and Miss Davenport gave evidence of wanting to join them. Finally, with another series of flickers, the lights sputtered back on. Cavitorius led them back to the main entrance of the museum, mentioned gently that they might find a visit to the Gift Shop intriguing, and went on his way. The crew of the Christa, being out of money, went theirs. "Well, that was very interesting, very interesting indeed," said Miss Davenport as they gathered on the cobblestone pavement outside. She was trying to sound hearty and upbeat, but she had suffered a nasty attack of claustrophobia when the lights went out, and was still pale and trembling. It was clear that she had lost her enthusiasm for the cultural delights of Elakkadia. "But I do think it's time to head back to the Christa. Thelma must be wondering what has become of us." They started back to the Space Port. It took longer than they expected; everyone was tired and hungry, and the going was slower. Bova started to chant "Food, food, FOOD!" under his breath, making Rosie giggle. After about an hour and a half, they made it back to the Space Port. They could see the Christa, docked just ahead. But as they started towards her, they noticed several official - looking people approaching. The expressions on their faces were less than friendly. "Excuse me," said the leader of the group, with the air of someone who really didn't care if he was excused or not, "Are you the crew of the vessel Christa, the entered port this morning?" "Yes," replied Goddard, with a sinking feeling. He felt Miss Davenport reach out and clutch his arm nervously. "You were recently in attendance at a tour in the City Museum?" continued the leader. "Yes," said Goddard, again. "Then by the authority of the Civic Safety and Security Force of the City of Elakkadia, I am placing you all under arrest," concluded the leader. "Come with me." Goddard winced as Miss Davenport's fingernails cut into his arm. "Why?" he asked, "We've done nothing wrong. There must be some mistake." "You will have to discuss that with the Primary Officer at the Civic Safety and Security Station," replied the official, sternly. He did not like it when suspects accused him of making a mistake. His opinion of the rag-tag looking crew of the Christa fell even lower than it had been initially. It had started quite low enough. A police transport quickly carried the crew back to the centre of the city, finally disgorging them at the Civic Safety and Security Station. Unlike most of Elakkadia's public buildings, the Station could not be characterized as charming, quaint or even attractive. It was modern, efficient and ugly, with a deadly serious air about it. The arresting patrol searched them thoroughly, and confiscated all their packages. The crew was finally led to a large office. "Primary Officer Decallan!" announced the leader of the patrol, saluting with an air of false modesty. "We have apprehended and arrested the suspects, and brought them here as per your orders. However," he continued with less satisfaction, "we did not find what we were looking for." The team looked around in bewilderment. They saw a tall man, apparently Primary Officer Decallan, sitting behind a large desk. Next to him, sweating nervously, was Doctor Cavitorius. Several other less important officials were gathered around the sides of the room, staring back at them. The atmosphere felt definitely hostile. Goddad stepped forward, breaking the momentary silence. "My name is Commander Seth Goddard, representative of the United Populated Planets. We the crew of the star vessel Christa. Is there some problem?" The Primary Officer did not rise from his desk, but leaned back and looked darkly at Goddard. "Yes, I would say there is a problem. Approximately two hours you and your crew attended a tour at the City Museum, am I correct?" He paused, and Goddard acknowledged the statement with a nod. "Shortly after you left, Dr. Cavitorius here contacted us with a serious report." Unable to contain himself longer, Dr. Cavitorius burst forward, wringing his hands. "They took the Heart! I know they took it!" Everyone started talking at once. Goddard held up his hand for silence. "That's ridiculous," he said. "My crew does not steal." "None the less, the Heart is missing," said the Primary Officer. "It is known that there was a mysterious black-out during your visit. After you left, Dr. Cavitorius noticed something amiss with the Heart. He immediately summoned the Chief Minister, the Opposition Leader and myself. The case was opened, and Dr. Cavitorius examined the Heart. Will you tell us what you found, Doctor?" With shaking hands the doctor placed a bag on the desk. From it he withdrew what appeared to be the Heart, fixed in its sceptre. "As soon as I picked it up, I knew the difference," he wailed. "This is not the real Heart - it is a flimsy replica! It's much lighter than the real Heart - I've studied the Heart all my life, and I've handled it frequently during its ceremonial removal and replacement. And look at the Heart itself - there's no sparkle, no fire. Anyone who has seen the Heart could tell the difference. This thing," he rapped it against the desk, making everyone jump, "is a piece of cheap frippery you could get at any bazaar stall." With a sinking feeling, the crew realized he had a point. In the Museum, the Heart had glowed with a mysterious fire. The object in Cavitorius's hand lay dull and lifeless. The Primary Officer raised his eyes from it and said quietly, "If you confess now, and reveal where you have secreted the Heart, things will be easier. I understand that Dr. Cavitorius has already told you that an attempt on the Heart is the only crime for which our city still retains the death penalty. Your only chance of avoiding it is to tell us NOW where is the Heart." "This is ridiculous," repeated Goddard sternly. "How could we have stolen it? The black-out lasted only a few seconds, and you appeared to have an adequate security system." "Yes, we know that one of the members of your group had a great interest in the security system," said the Primary Officer, looking sharply at Suzee. "And, unfortunately, the system is not all that could be desired, due to the reluctance of some people to avoid changing the 'traditional nature' of the display." Dr. Cavitorius, who was apparently the target of this shot, flushed and shifted where he stood. "There were weak spots in the system that thieves could exploit. If the bar that holds the down the dome were to be grasped in the middle, and pulled up, so that it bent, it could be slipped out of its socket, the dome pushed back and the Heart taken. Then the substitute could be introduced, the dome replaced, and the bar pushed back down and straightened." "That's ridiculous," said Goddard. He realized he kept saying the same thing over and over; but nothing else seemed appropriate. "That was a Kerinthinan alloy bar; it would take immense strength to bend it. It's impossible." "True, said the Primary Officer, "And at first that puzzled us. But we have received some important intelligence about your group. For example, we know that one of your members has exceptional engineering skills, and could have smuggled in a device to disrupt the rather primitive electrical system of the Museum." Suzee started to say something; Goddard raised his hand again and she closed her mouth. "We also know that one of your members has exceptional physical strength. Our report tells us that it would be quite sufficient to have removed the bar. The replica could have been smuggled into the room in the bags he was carrying, and the Heart could be smuggled out the same way. Once out of the building, the Heart could be hidden or passed on to a confederate. If Dr. Cavitorius had not noticed the switch immediately, you could easily have been out in space, for how long? Who knows, perhaps until the next meeting of the Council." "Wait a second!" cried Radu, before Goddard could stop him. "You're saying I took it?" "You are the only one who could have," replied the Primary Officer. "But I didn't! I'm not a thief! Tell him, Commander Goddard," Radu turned to Goddard, a stricken expression on his face. Andromedans consider theft a particularly disgraceful crime. "That's right," said Goddard, who was starting to get angry under the quiet exterior he was maintaining. "In fact, none of my crew are thieves. If the Heart is missing, there must be some other explanation." "Indeed?" said the Primary Officer. "Can you suggest one?" There was a long silence. "Very well, then," said the Primary Officer, finally. "Perhaps after spending the night in custody you will feel more communicative." "Just a minute," burst out Harlan. "Aren't we entitled to legal representation, or something? Don't we have any rights?" "Normally, yes," said the Primary Officer, with the first hint of unease he had shown. "However, this is a unique situation, with potentially catastrophic consequences to Elakkadian security. Therefore, the Great Council has decreed a temporary waiver of your normal rights as suspects." "And how long is temporary?" asked Harlan. The Primary Officer simply shrugged. Guards moved forward to take them away. "Primary Officer!" cried one of the guards, "Let's not forget about the female who is supposed to have powers of mental control. She could be a security risk." "Yes, of course. Do you have any suggestions?" replied the Primary Officer, wearily. This particular guard had a reputation for suggesting security measures that usually caused more trouble than the original problem. "Of course, sir," beamed the guard, proudly. "It's something I prepared myself." He pulled forth a sort of dark metal set of goggles, with opaque black lenses. "The intelligence report says that she must be able to make eye contact to establish control. So ... " he paused as he grabbed Suzee and attempted to pull the goggles over her head. "I don't think so!" cried Suzee, as she tried to twist away from him. He responded by shoving her roughly against the wall. This was too much for Harlan. He pulled the guard off Suzee, and was about to land a punch when a second guard grabbed him around the throat. Radu seized the second guard and sent him flying through the air, but more guards were coming from all directions. The room was in chaos. It was at this point that Bova realized that, as usual, no one was paying him any attention at all. He reached over and grabbed Rosie's wrist, and whispered "Let's go!" Pulling her behind him, he bolted out the door. More by luck than any sense of direction, the two young fugitives made it out of the building without being stopped. "This way!" yelled Bova, selecting a direction at random. They tore off at top speed, and ran as though the hounds of Hell were after them. When the finally stopped, because their legs could take them no further, it was completely dark, and raining hard. They found some slight shelter in the alley, and, despite everything, fell asleep. Now, chilled and hungry, they tried to decide what to do next. "If we could get back to the Christa," suggested Rosie, "Thelma might be able to help. I mean, she'd probably have databases of legal information and stuff." "Sure," responded Bova, "Except that I have no idea which way to get to the Space Port. It must be miles away. Even if we could get there, they've probably posted guards all over the city." "I wish Radu was here," said Rosie. "He'd be able to find our way back to the Christa." "Yes, and I wish Suzee was here, so she could think up some brilliant engineering solution; and I wish Harlan was here, so he could do something brave and daring. But they're not here. It's just us, and we've got to get ourselves out of this mess!" Bova saw the look on Rosie's face, and realized he was shouting. He tried to bring his voice under control. "And we've got to rescue the others." Rosie nodded, and tried to smile at him, but her teeth were chattering too hard. The cold and wet were draining heat from her body alarmingly fast. They started walking along a side street; it was more to keep warm then anything else, since they had no idea where they were going. Twice they saw what looked like a Security Patrol, and had to scramble for cover. Fortunately, the morning was still so foggy that they were almost invisible in their pale gray uniforms. Bova was silently immersed in his own dark thoughts, hardly hearing Rosie's attempts at conversation. Finally, she poked him smartly in the back to get a response from him. "... What, Rosie?" he mumbled. "So, who do you think took the Heart?" said Rosie. "If we could figure out who really had it, we could get the others out of jail." "If the Civic Safety and Security Force can't figure it out," said Bova, morosely, "I don't see how we could." Rosie sighed. Bova could be a trial in moods like this. She tried again to get the conversation going. Not that she really expected anything constructive to come of it; she just needed to talk. Even listening to Bova at his most pessimistic was better than dwelling in her own thoughts, which were gloomier at this point than a Mercurian's should be. "All right, what about that person who said he was a Gerovian trader? He seemed just as interested in the security set-up as Suzee." "Yes, but he wouldn't have known there was going to be a black-out. And even if he did, he wouldn't have had the strength to pull the bar out of the lock." Rosie came up with several other suggestions, all of which Bova shot down remorselessly. Finally, she came close to actually losing her temper. "Well," she said, as crossly as she could, "someone took it, so it had to be someone in the tour group. Or do you really think Radu took it?" She took another dozen steps, before she realized that Bova was no longer beside her. Immediately she regretted her outburst, although Bova had not actually noticed any anger in her tone at all. He was standing still on the cobblestone pavement, with an astonished look on his face. As he saw her looking at him, he suddenly broke into an ear-to-ear grin. For a second, Rosie thought he had finally gone over the edge. She walked back to him warily. "Rosie," he cried, as she approached. "You're a genius! We've solved it!" "What?" She tried to remember what she had said. "You don't mean you think Radu took the Heart?" In some ways she viewed Radu as a sort of protégé, and was prepared to defend his honour staunchly. "No, no, of course not," said Bova, sounding uncharacteristically excited. "But what you said reminded me of something I read recently, and that made me realize how it was done." "How?" Rosie put her head on one side, puzzled. So, standing with the rain running down his face and the fog condensing on his antennae, he explained it to her. By the time he finished, his native pessimism had drained away his initial enthusiasm. "What's the use, Rosie? Even if we know how it was done, nobody will listen to us." "No!" cried Rosie, "They'll listen, if it's the truth. We've got to get back to the Security Station, as quickly as possible." Eventually, they managed to flag down a passing Security Patrol, who were astonished at how readily the pair gave themselves up. Climbing into the back of the transport, they instructed the guards to take them directly to Primary Officer Decallan, with the air of two VIP's giving directions to a limousine driver. At the Civil Safety and Security Station, no one seemed to be anywhere near as satisfied as Bova and Rosie felt at that moment. The rest of the crew was locked in a windowless room, several floors underground. They had been questioned closely for several hours, but their interrogators had finally given up and left them alone for the time being. Commander Goddard looked around at the rest of his team, and reflected how everyone was showing the accumulated stress and fatigue in his or her own way. Miss Davenport had passed through near hysteria, actual hysteria, and had finally reached a quiet stage that was even more alarming. She sat at a long wooden table in the centre of the room, tracing a crack in its surface with her finger. When she reached the end of the crack, she would slowly trace it in the return direction. If anyone spoke to her directly, she would raise her eyes, give them a heart-rending look, and return to tracing the pattern on the table again, without speaking. Suzee sat slumped in a corner, angry at the world. The security officers had insisted that she wear the silly black goggle device during the interrogation, which she claimed gave her a headache. Goddard thought he knew the real problem. One of the sources of Suzee's engineering skills was the way she related to the world visually. Blinded, she was lost; loss of vision handicapped her mentally as much as physically. She responded to her frustration by snapping at everyone who came near. Radu seemed to have withdrawn totally, going into some kind of Andromedan trance. He sat with his head down, his hair hiding his face, responding to no one. Goddard was perhaps more worried about him than anyone in the group. Harlan, the extrovert of the crew, was finding the silence more unpleasant than the previous interrogation. He roamed the room, desperately trying to start a conversation, but Miss Davenport continued her examination of the table, Suzee told him bitterly to leave her alone, and Radu seemed not to hear him at all. And here am I, thought Goddard ruefully, watching the suffering of my crew - my friends - as though it were some psychology demonstration back at the Stacademy. He knew he had to take some sort of action. There wasn't much he could do, but at least he could give Harlan a chance to talk. He caught Harlan's eye and motioned him over. "Harlan," he said, "we've been just reacting to this situation for too long. It's time we started planning some strategy." "Sure, Commander," said Harlan with a smile of relief at finding someone who would talk. They discussed options for a while, although they realized deep inside that there weren't many. Suddenly Radu sat up straight, shook his head slightly as if to clear away cobwebs, and moved over to Harlan and Goddard. Great, thought Goddard, maybe everyone is starting to come out of it. He heard Harlan actually laugh as he teased Radu, "Good to see you, Sleeping Beauty. Have a nice rest?" But Radu's face was deadly serious as he turned to Goddard. "Commander," he started, stopped for a second, then started again, "I think the best thing for us for me to confess." "WHAT?" said both Goddard and Harlan, in near unison. Even Miss Davenport and Suzee turned their heads to listen. "They think I took the Heart, Commander Goddard," continued Radu. He had developed the plan during his long silence; he knew it would be difficult to persuade the others, but he had made up his mind. "I can't see any way to convince them that I didn't. But if I confess, and say that I did it alone, that the rest of you had nothing to do with it, they'll let you go." "They'll keep you, though," objected Harlan. "I know. But it seems to me that it's better that four people get out than none of us get out." "That," said Harlan slowly, "is the stupidest idea I've ever heard." "It's the only way. Isn't it, Commander Goddard?" rejoined Radu, frustrated by this unexpected reaction. He and Harlan started arguing about whether someone who had not come up with any plan at all had a right to criticize someone who had. Even Miss Davenport and Suzee roused themselves to join in. Well, thought Goddard, at least I've got everyone talking. Now if I can only get them to talk one at a time. Finally, he was able to make himself heard above the commotion. "It's a generous offer, Radu," he said, "And I'm proud to hear a member of my crew make a gesture like that for the good of the others. But I don't think we'll take you up on it. I'm not leaving any member of my crew behind. We'll all get out of this together, somehow." The others nodded in agreement, but Radu looked unconvinced; Goddard knew that once the Andromedan had made his mind up, he could be fiercely determined. "Trust me, Radu," he said, "We'll find another way out." If they had been able to see into Primary Officer Decallan's office, several floors above, they would have discovered that the mood there was almost as bleak. Fifteenth-Grade Junior Officer Colindius (one of the youngest officers on the Security Force) had just entered the room to report a further unsuccessful search. She saw the Primary Officer sitting at his desk and staring into space with an abstracted air. She murmured hesitantly, "Was there any success in the most recent interrogation, Sir?" The Primary Officer blinked for a second, and recollected his thoughts. "Actually, Colindius, I have never before had such complete agreement with my suspects during an interrogation. I suggested that the theft of the Heart was a terrible, immoral thing; they agreed. I told them that the evidence against them was overwhelming, and they agreed with that, if reluctantly. I further told them that the only chance for saving themselves was to confess and produce the Heart, and they said they understood that. It was only when I demanded that they tell me where the Heart is now that this happy consensus seemed to break down." Officer Colindius looked sympathetic. All the Security Forces were worried about being forever labelled by their fellow citizens as The Incompetents Who Let the Heart Be Stolen. She knew the pressure on Primary Officer Decallan must be much greater. He had risen to his position through the ranks by merit, without the political patronage that usually went behind it, and if the Heart was lost, his career would undoubtedly be ruined. But really, she thought, what sort of political backing would enable someone to withstand a catastrophe like losing the Heart? Colindius left the room gloomily, only to reappear several minutes later with a startled look. "Primary Officer," she said, waving a hand for attention, "there are two people here asking to talk with you." "Tell them I'm busy and send them away," said the Primary Officer wearily. He had been on his feet for more than a day, and had no energy or patience left for any more conversations with city bureaucrats panicking about the loss of the Heart. "But it's them!" whispered Colindius, urgently. "The two who got away. Now they're back, and they say they want to negotiate." "All right, bring them in," replied the Primary Officer. "Maybe our luck is changing." Officer Colindius ushered Bova and Rosie into the office. She and the Primary Officer stared at the pair, who seated themselves with great self-possession. "All right, let's get to the point," snapped the Primary Officer. "Do you have the Heart?" "No," said Rosie, with her most charming smile, "But we know where it is." "And where is that?" "We'll tell you," said Bova, "but we want a few things ourselves first." "Tell me, and perhaps we can accommodate you," said the Primary Officer cautiously, "but I make no promises in advance." He knew that the city would give any ransom to get the Heart back, but he hated the idea of paying off extortionists. "First of all," said Bova, "we want a solemn guarantee that if you get the Heart back, everyone who was not involved in the theft will be released. No keeping anyone locked up just to save face." "You have my word, sworn upon the honour of Elakkadia herself," replied the Primary Officer, with a puzzled air. He had not expected this as an opening bid. He had heard criminals demand the release of the guilty, yes, but not the innocent. "All right. The second thing we want is to see a listing of all the visitors who have put in at Elakkadia Space Port in the last ... oh, make it a month, to begin with." Bova seemed to be mentally calculating something. "Particularly those that arrived in smaller ships." "Very well, we can do that." The Primary Officer looked at Fifteenth Officer Colindius as if to ask if she had any idea where this was going. She shook her head, bewildered. "Anything else?" "Just one more thing," Bova shot a look at Rosie, who giggled. "Breakfast!" "That," said the Primary Officer, glad to be asked at last for something intelligible, "can be arranged." "Fine," said Bova, "We can have what they call on my world a working breakfast. It's not good for the digestion, of course, but we're short of time. We'll tell you where the Heart is, and how to get it back." So it was that, several hours later, the crew of the Christa found themselves being transported back to the Museum. They were led, under guard, into the room where the Heart had been displayed the previous day. As they looked around, mystified, they saw two familiar faces on one side. "Bova! Rosie!" Miss Davenport cried. "Are you all right? We've been so worried about you." Rosie ran over and tried to hug everyone at once, to the dismay of the guards, who apparently thought this represented some sort of security risk. Bova murmured, "Worried about us? You're the ones who were in jail." Primary Officer Decallan stepped up to the spotlit case that had held the Heart, and raised a hand for everyone's attention. "A great crime," he said, in a serious voice, "was attempted here yesterday, one that could have grave consequences for the future of Elakkadia herself. It must not only be solved, but solved so that that everyone is convinced that the solution is correct." "Therefore, we have brought everyone with a connection to the incident here, so that we can assemble the piece together. We have gathered the major witnesses," (everyone looked out of the corner of their eyes at Dr. Cavitorius and the tour group members), "our esteemed city officials," (everyone's eyes slid to a white-haired woman and a tall man with a droopy moustache), "and, of course, our main suspects." The crew had the uncomfortable sensation that the entire room was now staring at them. "I hope you are not wasting our time, Decallan," said the Chief Minister of the Great Council, tersely. She was a small person, with a halo of white hair, a lined face, and a reputation for not putting up with any sort of nonsense. "I agree," added the tall man, the Leader of the Opposition. "This meeting seems to be completely unnecessary and unproductive." This comment was actually a break for the Primary Officer, since the Chief Minister had long considered the Leader of the Opposition to be, in her words, "the most complete idiot ever to be elected to office in this or any other city". Therefore, she assumed anything he opposed was likely to be a good idea, and immediately took a position of total support for the Primary Officer's plan, whatever it was. The Primary Officer opened his mouth to speak again, but was interrupted once more, this time by Dr. Cavitorius. "I did ask," he said, a bit nervously, "for your officers to return to me the replica of the Heart. Our museum has the best laboratory in the City, and I would like to be able to study the replica. Perhaps we can identify where it came from, which may help us in solving this terrible crime." "Of course," replied the Primary Officer, "We did not forget to bring the replica. Officer Colindius has it here." Colindius quietly produced the replica from a heavy black bag she had carried into the room, and placed it beside the crystal case. "In fact," continued the Primary Officer, "it will be essential, we believe, to the solution of the problem." Cavitorius smiled, and nodded. "At first," the Primary Officer resumed, "the crime appeared to be reasonably easy to solve. The Heart disappeared in the presence of a group tour of the Museum. All the members of the tour were either reputable citizens of Elakkadia, or frequent visitors to our City, who could produce strong references as to their character." The Gerovian trader seemed to relax slightly on hearing this comment. "Only one unknown group was in the tour, the crew of the vessel Christa. To our great interest, we received information from an anonymous source shortly after the crime, which indicated that this group had special abilities that would enable them to pull off a theft of this nature. The informant also mentioned that they had a bad reputation in other sectors for being involved in suspicious activities." Commander Goddard prepared to protest this slander, but the Primary Officer continued on, ignoring the crew completely. "Unfortunately, as we studied the case, we were disturbed by some aspects that did not appear to be as easily explained. How did they manage such a complex operation, when they had only been on the planet a few hours? Why did they take such a long walk back to the Space Port, when they could have hired transportation and been away in space before the theft was discovered? Where did they hide the Heart? How did our anonymous informant know of the crime, when we had not publicly announced it? I must admit, we were considerably puzzled by some of the finer points in this affair." "I was fortunate, however, to have a discussion with one of the suspects, who admitted to having an interest in crime, although more in solving such outrages rather than committing them." He looked at Bova for an instant. Bova smiled inscrutably. "He mentioned a precept of great wisdom from his culture, which opened my eyes to how this crime must be solved. He said, 'When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.' We must first prove what did not happen; this will lead us, inevitably, to what did." "This is totally ridiculous, and an obvious waste of ..." started the Leader of the Opposition. Before he could finish, the Chief Minister impatiently told him to keep his mouth closed until he could contribute something constructive. He fell silent, pulling on his moustache and exuding injured dignity. "The first thing I wanted to confirm, was could the Kerinthinan alloy bar actually be bent by hand? We obtained an identical bar, and would like to perform a small experiment. Mr. Radu, would you please come forward?" Radu, feeling everyone's eyes upon him, moved uneasily up to the Primary Officer. Officer Colindius, standing beside the Primary Officer, produced a long metal rod from her case, and handed it to Radu. "Now, Mr. Radu," said the Primary Officer, "can you demonstrate whether you can indeed bend such a bar?" "Wait a minute!" Dr. Cavitorius blurted, angrily. "What is the good of a test like that? Of course this young man will fail to bend the bar. Why should he want to prove that he could? This is the most ridiculous thing I have ever witnessed. Simply give me the replica, and in a few hours, I can tell you where it came from, and how these people were able to perform the switch." Ignoring the irate Cavitorius, the Primary Officer turned to Radu. "Your friend, Miss Ianni, has expressed great faith in your honesty, and I hope you will not disappoint her. Do not be afraid to reveal the truth - I promise it will do no harm to any innocent person." Radu, feeling exquisitely uncomfortable, looked across the room to Rosie, who smiled at him. "Go ahead, Radu," she murmured, "Show them." He smiled back at her, then grasped the rod at both ends. As he exerted his strength, the rod slowly bent into a semi-circle. Someone in the room gave a whistle of amazement. "Very good," said the Primary Officer, the only Elakkadian to appear unsurprised, "Now, can you restore it to its original form?" Radu reversed his grip on the rod, and, with a sudden effort, pulled it straight again. "Well," said the Leader of the Opposition, "you've proved at least that it would be possible for the rod to be bent by hand." "True, it's possible," replied the Primary Officer, "although you may notice that the rod did not straighten perfectly. Officer Colindius, could you please produce the original rod from the lock?" Colindius drew another rod out of the voluminous black bag, and handed it to him. "As you can see, the original rod is absolutely straight." "Not proof it's impossible, Decallan," said the Chief Minister, brusquely. "No," agreed the Primary Officer, "but I think we can provide proof that the original rod was never bent. One of the reasons Kerinthinan alloy is so strong is its rigid crystal structure. Once bent, the crystal structure is disturbed, and this disruption can be detected. Miss Ianni, would you be kind enough to assist us?" Rosie stepped forward, removing her gloves. "First, the rod we know was bent," said the Primary Officer. Rosie placed a hand on each end of the rod and concentrated. The rod quickly started to glow red-hot. "As you can see, the heated metal is releasing energy in the visible spectrum," Bova stepped forward to explain. It had been his idea, and he was rather proud of this demonstration. "However, wherever the crystal structure has been disrupted, the energy flow is restricted, and less light is emitted. These areas show up as dark lines on the bar." Rosie held the bar up, and everyone leaned forward to look. Sure enough, clear black lines, like cracks, could be seen radiating from the area where the bar had been bent. "Now, the original bar from the lock," said the Primary Officer. Rosie passed the first bar to Officer Colindius, who had put on a pair of heat-resistant gloves for the job, and picked up the other rod. It took only a few seconds for it, also, to develop a bright red glow. "This bar," said Bova, as Rosie held it up, "shows no interference lines anywhere. Therefore, the crystal structure has not been disturbed. And that means it has never been bent." The Chief Minister nodded solemnly, but the Opposition Leader looked confused. "Then how was the case opened?" he asked the Primary Officer. "We know the Heart had to be removed somehow during the blackout." "I think our suspects - or perhaps I should say, our former suspects - can shed a little more light on that," said the Primary Officer. "Mr. Radu, I am told that, in addition to the ability to bend Kerinthinan bars, you also have very acute hearing." Radu nodded. "Can you remember what you heard at the time of the black-out? Did anyone approach the case, or tamper with it in any way?" Radu closed his eyes for a second, trying to remember. "No," he said finally. "Everyone started moving away from the case, towards the door. I didn't hear anyone go near it. And I'm sure that if anyone had actually opened the case, I would have heard them do it." "So you see our problem," said the Primary Officer. "Our original idea about the theft, that the lock was opened by force, is clearly incorrect. Furthermore, as Mr. Radu indicates, and as we have verified by interviews with all the other tour members, no one was ever detected approaching the case during the black-out. Therefore, it is impossible for the Heart to have been taken during the black-out." "Why, I hope you are not suggesting that the Heart was stolen before the black-out?" sputtered Dr. Cavitorius, his face reddening with emotion. "I'll have you know that the Heart has always been safe here. If the Office for Civic Safety and Security were not so incompetent as to let these, these felons into our city ...," he trailed off, apparently overcome with rage at the insult, wiping his face with a handkerchief. "Do not upset yourself, Doctor," replied the Primary Officer. "We're not suggesting the Heart was stolen before the black-out, any more than it was taken during the black-out. We have checked the security cameras to confirm that. What I am saying is that the Heart was never stolen at all." There was a stunned silence in the room. Dr. Cavitorius broke it by crying out to the Chief Minister, "It's a lie! He's trying to blame his mistakes on me, Minister. He doesn't know what he's talking about." "Yes, Decallan, what do you mean?" said the Chief Minister, turning her eyes to the Primary Officer. That gaze had been known to make lower-level bureaucrats crumble like fresh piecrust, but the Primary Officer held up well. "You see," he explained, "if the Heart was not taken during the black-out, and was not taken before the black-out, it must have been there when you, the Leader of the Opposition and I removed it from the case. Do you remember what happened then?" "Yes, of course," she said, knitting her brow. "I removed it from the case and handed it to Dr. Cavitorius. He left the room ahead of us, to take it to better light. When we caught up with him, he was already starting to hyperventilate, but we all heard him say that it was not the real Heart. It was too light, and there was no sparkle from the stone. We looked, and that was so, even though he kept trying to polish it with his handkerchief." "Yes, and you may remember that he was not happy that I insisted on taking the replica with us to the Station," replied the Primary Officer. "He kept saying he needed to perform tests on it. At the suggestion of Mr. Bova and Miss Ianni, we performed some tests ourselves this morning. One was quite simple - we weighed it. The 'replica' weighs two hundred and ten Elakkadian ounces - just as it always has. This is the real Heart. Cavitorius was trying a simple con job to convince us it was not." "But look at it!" wheezed Dr. Cavitorius, sweating heavily, "Look at it! You have all seen the Heart - you know that this dull lump of rock can't be real! You must know!" "Oh, that's easy to solve," said Bova, picking up the Heart from where it lay, and rubbing the stone with the sleeve of his tunic. "All you needed was a little lubricating grease on your handkerchief to smear over the stone. That will dim the reflections from the stone nicely, and you could do it very quickly while you were leaving the room. Why would you need to find 'better light' anyway? The spotlights in this room are bright enough." He stopped rubbing the stone, and held it up in the centre of the spotlights, turning it slightly. The room filled with the released glow of the huge gem. "When I saw the 'replica' this morning, I could smell the grease - I've been around it enough on the Christa." Dr. Cavitorius made an odd, strangled sound, and darted suddenly for the door. Harlan, thinking this was probably a bad idea, stuck out a foot in his path. Cavitorius hit it, stumbled wildly, and crashed onto his face, half-way out the door. "Thank you, Mr. Band," said the Primary Officer, politely, "although that was not really necessary. My people are waiting for him." The crew spent the rest of the afternoon picking up their things back at the Civic Safety and Security Station. They endured a round of flowery statements of thanks and apology on behalf of the city from the Chief Minister, the Leader of the Opposition, and any other functionary who thought it would be politically advantageous to associate with the people who had prevented the theft of the Heart. But what they really wanted was a fuller explanation, so they cornered Colindius, as she sat filling out forms on the case. She was in a good mood, with visions of a promotion to Fourteenth Level Officer, Medium Grade (at least), and was willing to talk. "What I would like to know," said Miss Davenport, "is, why would a man of Dr. Cavitorius's erudition and standing, try to steal the Heart? It seems very out of character." She had formed a high opinion of Cavitorius during the tour, and was distressed to have been so mistaken. "That's a complex story," replied Colindius. "You may remember that, several centuries ago, our city was ruled by the Octarchy, representing the eight strongest and wealthiest families in Elakkadia. One of those was the Cavitorius family. Apparently the Doctor had developed some sort of idea that by stealing the Heart, he could destabilize the current government, restore the Octarchy, and rule the city himself." "Would it have worked?" asked Harlan. "Probably not," said Colindius, signing one form with a flourish and starting on another one. "We Elakkadians are not quite so superstitious these days that the loss of the Heart would lead to the loss of our common sense. Of course, if he had been able to sell the Heart off-planet, he might have able to finance a significant political movement, but he then would have lost the chance to use the Heart as a political symbol. And, of course, he clearly didn't realize that the Primary Officer would insist on keeping the supposed 'replica', rather than hand it over to him. He apparently planned to switch the Heart for real while doing his 'tests' at the Museum." "Who was the mysterious informant?" asked Suzee. "The one who knew about my abilities, and Radu's, and everyone. It had to be someone who knew us, and yet was also in league with Dr. Cavitorius." "Oh, yes," Colindius said, with a smile, "Mr. Bova and Miss Ianni figured that one out for us." "You see," said Bova, trying to look modest, but not succeeding, "we realized that it had to be someone who was in the city yesterday, so we asked for a list of recent arrivals. When we saw a name we recognized, we knew that he had to be the one." He pointed to a name featured prominently on one of Colindius's completed forms. Goddard leaned forward to look. "Reaver!" he said, bitterly. "We should have known." "Apparently the individual in question has had dealings in the past with Dr. Cavitorius, regarding some artefacts of questionable origin." Colindius explained. "I doubt we'll ever know whether Cavitorius was inspired by him in this mad scheme, or whether Cavitorius was just using him as a tool - his connections would certainly have been useful in illegally disposing of the Heart. The plan had obviously been developed for some time, but when your vessel arrived, you were the perfect scapegoats for the theft." "Were you able to catch him? Is he under arrest?" Goddard's eyes sparkled at the thought of Reaver finally getting his just deserts. "Unfortunately, no," answered Colindius, shaking her head regretfully. "He managed to take off into deep space just before we reached the Space Port to arrest him. We will alert all other security forces in the sector to keep an eye out for him. If he ever returns to Elakkadia, he will regret it." She frowned, then brightened. "However, we were successful in arresting Cavitorius's contact at the Information Department, who had been instructed to steer you to the Museum Tour." "What will happen to Dr. Cavitorius?" asked Rosie, worriedly. "You're not really going to do anything ... I mean, you wouldn't really ...." Her voice trailed off. Cavitorius might have framed them, but she was too tenderhearted to want him to be executed. Colindius caught her drift. "He will probably just receive a long prison sentence," she reassured Rosie. "He has spent a lifetime serving Elakkadia, before this happened. I'm sure the court will consider that his psychological condition may have deteriorated, leading to this escapade." Rosie smiled in relief. They finally collected their belongings, and headed back to the Christa. Thelma greeted them as they entered. "My, you were gone a long while. Did you have an interesting time?" Harlan laughed. "Interesting is not the word for it, Thelma. Let's just say it's good to be back." "It's good to be back," repeated Thelma, straight-faced, then turned to help the Commander prepare the ship for take-off. Harlan shook his head. Sometimes, he would swear Thelma knew perfectly well what he meant, and was just pulling his leg. He knew androids were not supposed to be capable of joking, but sometimes he wondered if Thelma had some sort of strange humour circuitry installed. Finally, the Christa was back in space, on her long journey back to Earth. Everyone had gathered in the galley for supper, when they noticed something most unusual - Bova was late for a meal. Miss Davenport was too shocked to even complain, but Rosie offered to run and find him. She located him lying on his bunk, nose buried in his book. "Hey, what are you reading?" she asked, curious what could possibly make him forget mealtime. Bova, still absorbed in the text, didn't speak but lifted the book up, so that she could read "The Hound of the Baskervilles" on the front cover. "Oh!" she said brightly. "Animal stories!" Bova finally looked up, and gave her a smile. "Not exactly, Rosie. Let's call it criminological research." He slid off the bunk and headed out the door after her, with the book tucked under his arm. With any luck, Miss Davenport would let him finish it during supper. ~The End~
They had put in at Elakkadia Space Port the previous morning. It was a chance to stock up on supplies, gather information about conditions for the next leg of their journey, and generally enjoy a few hours of not being on the Christa. Everyone - well, nearly everyone - was looking forward to a little shore leave.
The necessary business of taking inventory of the Christa's non-renewable supplies, and ordering replacements, went slowly. At first, they thought it was just due to their impatience. Then Suzee did a quick head count. "Hey!" she said. "Where's Bova?"