ra Company_; I'm bringing action as
friend of incompetent aborigines for recognition of sapience, and Mr.
Coombes, on behalf of the Zarathustra Company, is contesting to preserve
the Company's charter, and that's all there is or ever was to this case."

That was impolite of Gus. Leslie Coombes had wanted to go on to the end
pretending that the Company charter had absolutely nothing to do with it.

* * * * *

There was an unending stream of reports of Fuzzies seen here and there,
often simultaneously in impossibly distant parts of the city. Some were
from publicity seekers and pathological liars and crackpots; some were the
result of honest mistakes or overimaginativeness. There was some reason to
suspect that not a few had originated with the Company, to confuse the
search. One thing did come to light which heartened Jack Holloway. An
intensive if concealed search was being made by the Company police, and by
the Mallorysport police department, which the Company controlled.

Max Fane was giving every available moment to the hunt. This wasn't
because of ill will for the Company, though that was present, nor because
the Chief Justice was riding him. The Colonial Marshal was pro-Fuzzy. So
were the Colonial Constabulary, over whom Nick Emmert's administration
seemed to have little if any authority. Colonel Ian Ferguson, the
commandant, had his appointment direct from the Colonial Office on Terra.
He had called by screen to offer his help, and George Lunt, over on Beta,
screened daily to learn what progress was being made.

Living at the Hotel Mallory was expensive, and Jack had to sell some
sunstones. The Company gem buyers were barely civil to him; he didn't try
to be civil at all. There was also a noticeable coolness toward him at the
bank. On the other hand, on several occasions, Space Navy officers and
ratings down from Xerxes Base went out of their way to accost him,
introduce themselves, shake hands with him and give him their best wishes.

Once, in one of the weather-domed business centers, an elderly man with
white hair showing under his black beret greeted him.

"Mr. Holloway I want to tell you how grieved I am to learn about the
disappearance of those little people of yours," he said. "I'm afraid
there's nothing I can do to help you, but I hope they turn up safely."

"Why, thank you, Mr. Stenson." He shook hands with the old master
instrument maker. "If you could make me a pocke