at this was the man in charge. "You are Bartol?" He extended his hand.

Bart took it--and found himself gripped in a judo hold. The other two
men, leaping to place behind him, felt all over his body, not gently.

"No weapons, Montano."

"Look here--"

"Save it," Montano said. "If you're the right person, you'll understand.
If not, you won't have much time to resent it. A very simple test. What
color is that divan?"

"Green."

"And those curtains?"

"Darker green, with gold and red figures."

The men released him, and the white-haired man smiled.

"So you actually did it, Steele! I thought for sure the code message was
a fake." He stepped back and looked Bart over from head to foot,
whistling. "Raynor Three is a genius! Claws and everything! What a deuce
of a risk to take though!"

"You know my name," Bart said, "but who are you?"

Suspicion came back into the dark eyes. "Does that Mentorian cloak
mean--you've lost your memories, too?"

"No," said Bart, "it's simpler than that. I'm not Rupert Steele.
I'm--" his voice caught--"I'm his son."

The man looked startled and shocked. "I suppose that means Rupert is
dead. Dead! It came a little before he expected it, then. So you're
Bart." He sighed. "My name's Montano. This is Hedrick, and I suppose you
recognize Raynor Two."

Bart blinked. It was the same face, but it was not grim like Raynor
One's, nor expressive and kindly like that of Raynor Three. This one
just looked dangerous.

"But sit down," Montano said with a wave of his hand, "make yourself
comfortable."

Hedrick relieved Bart of his cloak; Raynor Two put a cup of some
steaming drink in his hand, passed him a tray of small hot fried things
that tasted crisp and delicious. Bart relaxed, answering questions. _How
old? Only seventeen? And you came all alone on a Lhari ship, working
your way as Astrogator? I must say you've got guts, kid!_ It was
dangerously like the fantasy he had invented. But Montano interrupted at
last.

"All right, this isn't a party and we haven't all night. I don't suppose
Bart has either. Enough time wasted. Since you walked into this, young
Steele, I take it you know what our plans are, after this?"

Bart shook his head. "No. Raynor Three sent me to call off your plans,
because of my father--"

"That sounds like Three," interrupted Raynor Two. "Entirely too
squeamish!"

Montano said irritably, "We couldn't have done anything without a man on
the _Swiftwing_, and you