"What do you think?"

"I think I may have something to say about it."

"Then say it." Sanderson waited for the woman to speak. She looked confused, but did not answer.

"He is not really this hard," Big Marie said. "It is just that he is worried."

"Don't apologize for me."

The door opened and L'Sor entered without knocking. "They told me I would find you here," he said. "Malovel will see you at once."

"All right, I'm coming," Sanderson said. He turned to the door.

"Wait a minute," Miss Tweedham protested. "Do you mean you're going to—after what you just saw, you're going to—"

"What did I just see?" Sanderson said. He went out. L'Sor followed him without comment.

Miss Tweedham's lips formed unvoiced sounds. "But—that awful Martian may kill him."

"Do you think that would stop him?" Big Marie said. "What kind of a man do you think he is?"

"I don't care what kind of a man he is."

"He has kept us alive when nobody else could have done it," Big Marie said. "If he says he wants you, Baby, my advice is to play give-inee." Big Marie went into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. It opened again an instant later. "You'll be the luckiest woman this side of heaven." The door slammed shut this time.

Malovel was old and wrinkled. His skin hung about his face in loose folds and his hands were the skinny claws of a bird. He slept, ate, and defecated in the big padded chair that was his throne. Under the bird-talon fingers a number of differently colored squares were set into the arms of the chair.

Officious priests in blue robes took Sanderson to him. L'Sor was not invited to accompany them and he did not request the privilege.

Malovel went straight to the heart of the matter. "There will be no more water for humans," he said. A slave standing beside his chair gave him a sip out of a small cup. His yellow eyes twinkled at the human.

"Eh? What?" 

 Prev. P 6/16 next