n," he
said absently. "An import of value for our exploited and impoverished
world. Unfortunately they are, perhaps, a little ... ah, obvious. The
incidence of nervous breakdowns is, ah, interfering with their sale. The
children, of course, are unaffected, and love them." Evarin set the
hypnotic wheel moving again, glanced sidewise at me, then set it
carefully back.

"Now"--Evarin's voice, hard with the silkiness of a cat's snarl, clawed
the silence--"we'll talk business."

I turned, composing my face. Evarin had something concealed in one hand,
but I didn't think it was a weapon. And if I'd known, I'd have had to
ignore it anyway.

"Perhaps you wonder how we recognized and found you?" A panel cleared in
the wall and became translucent. Confused flickers moved, dropped into
focus and I realized that the panel was an ordinary television screen
and I was looking into the well-known interior of the Cafe of Three
Rainbows in the Trade City of Charin.

By this time I was running low on curiosity and didn't wonder till much,
much later how televised pictures were transmitted around the curve of a
planet. Evarin sharpened the focus down on the long Earth-type bar where
a tall man in Terran clothes was talking to a pale-haired girl. Evarin
said, "By now, Race Cargill has decided, no doubt, that you fell into
his trap and into the hands of the Ya-men. He is off-guard now."

And suddenly the whole thing seemed so unbearably, illogically funny
that my shoulders shook with the effort to keep back dangerous laughter.
Since I'd landed in Charin, I'd taken great pains to avoid the Trade
City, or anyone who might have associated me with it. And Rakhal,
somehow aware of this, had conveniently filled up the gap. By posing as
me.

It wasn't nearly as difficult as it sounded. I had found that out in
Shainsa. Charin is a long, long way from the major Trade City near the
Kharsa. I hadn't a single intimate friend there, or within hundreds of
miles, to see through the imposture. At most, there were half a dozen of
the staff that I'd once met, or had a drink with, eight or ten years
ago.

Rakhal could speak perfect Standard when he chose; if he lapsed into
Dry-town idiom, that too was in my known character. I had no doubt he
was making a great success of it all, probably doing much better with my
identity than I could ever have done with his.

Evarin rasped, "Cargill meant to leave the planet. What stopped him? You
could be of use to