MacCready said, smiling blandly.

Before Haven could answer, the little Centaurian waiter came by. "Glacier move," he mumbled.

"What did you say?" said Haven, startled.

"Nothing," said the Centaurian, and shuffled from the room. Haven got up and started after him, but saw Louise watching. He settled back and waited uncomfortably through the small talk of the reunion. It did not break up until the early hours of the morning and Haven went directly to their suite with Louise.

"No nightcap?" she asked him.

"Need plenty of sleep for the morning. But Lou, honey, I still don't think you ought to go."

"I'm going, George. That's all. It's the beginning of the George Haven legend, and I want to see it. Can you blame me?"

Haven had to admit that he could not. They went up to the suite, where Haven undressed and got into bed and pretended to fall asleep quickly. After what seemed a very long time to him he heard Louise's regular breathing.

"Sleeping honey?" he whispered.

No answer.

Haven got up quietly and dressed in the dark. He tiptoed to the door, looked back once, listened. Louise was still breathing regularly. Even before the reunion celebration was over, Haven had made up his mind. If Louise was going out there with him and the others in the morning—and apparently she was—then Haven had to go out there first, in the darkness, alone if necessary, to see what he could do about the body....

He closed the door softly behind him and stepped into the dim, night-lit hallway. He almost bumped into a small figure crouching there and jerked away from it with a startled exclamation.

It was the little Centaurian waiter.

Haven grabbed the collar of his tunic. "All right," he said. "All right, you're just the man I'm looking for. What did you mean, glacier move?"

"Glacier move. You know. You know!" The Centaurian offered a tentative smile.

"No, damn you, I don't know!" Haven whispered furiously, dragging the Centaurian into the stairwell.

"Glacier on mine then. Glacier not on mine now. All city know."

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