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left Juno," Morgan said evenly. "I don'tknow why he came to Earth, and I know nothing else."

  "Then I see no further need for conversation," Tarnhorst said. "Thankyou for your assistance, Commodore Morgan. If Earth's Government needsyou again, you will be notified if you gain any further information,you may call this number. Thank you again. Good-by."

  The screen went blank.

  * * * * *

  _How much of this is a trap?_ Morgan thought.

  There was no way of knowing at this point. Morgan knew that JackLatrobe had neither committed suicide nor died accidentally, andTarnhorst had told him as much. Tarnhorst was still friendly, but hehad taken the hint and got himself out of danger. There had been onevery important piece of information. The denial that anyrepresentative of PMC 873 had been involved. PMC 873 was amanufacturer of biological products--one of the several corporationsthat Latrobe had been empowered to discuss business with when he hadbeen sent to Earth by the Belt Corporations Council. Tarnhorst wouldnot have mentioned them negatively unless he intended to imply apositive hint. Obviously. Almost too obviously.

  Well?

  Harry Morgan punched for Information, got it, got a number, andpunched that.

  "People's Manufacturing Corporation Ey-yut Seven Tha-ree," said arecorded voice. "Your desire, pu-leeze?"

  "This is Commodore Jack Latrobe," Morgan said gently. "I'm gettingtired of this place, and if you don't let me out I will blow the wholeplace to Kingdom Come. Good bye-eye-eye."

  He hung up without waiting for an answer.

  Then he looked around the hotel suite he had rented. It was anexpensive one--very expensive. It consisted of an outer room--a"sitting room" as it might have been called two centuries before--anda bedroom. Plus a bathroom.

  Harry Morgan, a piratical smile on his face, opened the bathroom doorand left it that way. Then he went into the bedroom. His luggage hadalready been delivered by the lift tube, and was sitting on the floor.He put both suitcases on the bed, where they would be in plain sightfrom the sitting room. Then he made certain preparations for invaders.

  He left the door between the sitting room and the bedroom open andleft the suite.

  Fifteen minutes later, he was walking down 42nd Street toward SixthAvenue. On his left was the ancient Public Library Building. In themiddle of the block, somebody shoved something hard into his leftkidney and said. "Keep walking, commodore. But do what you're told."

  Harry Morgan obeyed, with an utterly happy smile on his lips.

  IV

  In the Grand Central Hotel, a man moved down the hallway toward Suite7426. He stopped at the door and inserted the key he held in his hand,twisting it as it entered the keyhole. The electronic locks chuckled,and the door swung open.

  The man closed it behind him.

  He was not a big man, but neither was he undersized. He was five-tenand weighed perhaps a hundred and sixty-five pounds. His face was darkof skin and had a hard, determined expression on it. He looked asthough he had spent the last thirty of his thirty-five years of lifestealing from his family and cheating his friends.

  He looked around the sitting room. Nothing. He tossed the key in hishand and then shoved it into his pocket. He walked over to the nearestcouch and prodded at it. He took an instrument out of his insidejacket pocket and looked at it.

  "Nothin'," he said to himself. "Nothin'." His detector showed thatthere were no electronic devices hidden in the room--at least, nonethat he did not already know about.

  He prowled around the sitting room for several minutes, looking ateverything--chairs, desk, windows, floor--everything. He foundnothing. He had not expected to, since the occupant, a Belt man namedHarry Morgan, had only been in the suite a few minutes.

  Then he walked over to the door that separated the sitting room fromthe bedroom. Through it, he could see the suitcases sitting temptinglyon the bed.

  Again he took his detector out of his pocket. After a full minute, hewas satisfied that there was no sign of any complex gadgetry thatcould warn the occupant that anyone had entered the room. Certainlythere was nothing deadly around.

  Then a half-grin came over the man's cunning face. There was alwaysthe chance that the occupant of the suite had rigged up a reallyold-fashioned trap.

  He looked carefully at the hinges of the door. Nothing. There were notiny bits of paper that would fall if he pushed the door open anyfurther, no little threads that would be broken.

  It hadn't really seemed likely, after all. The door was open wideenough for a man to walk through without moving it.

  Still grinning, the man reached out toward the door.

  He was quite astonished when his hand didn't reach the door itself.

  There was a sharp feeling of pain when his hand fell to the floor,severed at the wrist.

  The man stared at his twitching hand on the floor. He blinked stupidlywhile his wrist gushed blood. Then, almost automatically, he steppedforward to pick up his hand.

  As he shuffled forward, he felt a _snick! snick!_ of pain in hisankles while all sensation from his feet went dead.

  It was not until he began toppling forward that he realized that hisfeet were still sitting calmly on the floor in their shoes and that hewas no longer connected to them.

  It was too late. He was already falling.

  He felt a stinging sensation in his throat and then nothing more asthe drop in blood pressure rendered him unconscious.

  His hand lay, where it had fallen. His feet remained standing. Hisbody fell to the floor with a resounding _thud!_ His head bounced onceand then rolled under the bed.

  When his heart quit pumping, the blood quit spurting.

  A tiny device on the doorjamb, down near the floor, went _zzzt!_ andthen there was silence.

  V

  When Representative Edway Tarnhorst cut off the call that had comefrom Harry Morgan, he turned around and faced the other man in theroom. "Satisfactory?" he said.

  "Yes. Yes, of course," said the other. He was a tall, hearty-lookingman with a reddish face and a friendly smile. "You said just the rightthing, Edway. Just the right thing. You're pretty smart, you knowthat? You got what it takes." He chuckled. "They'll never figureanything out now." He waved a hand toward the chair. "Sit down, Edway.Want a drink?"

  Tarnhorst sat down and folded his hands. He looked down at them as ifhe were really interested in the flat, unfaceted diamond, engravedwith the Tarnhorst arms, that gleamed on the ring on his finger.

  "A little glass of whiskey wouldn't hurt much, Sam," he said, lookingup from his hands. He smiled. "As you say, there isn't much to worryabout now. If Morgan goes to the police, they'll give him the sameinformation."

  Sam Fergus handed Tarnhorst a drink. "Damn right. Who's to know?" Hechuckled again and sat down. "That was pretty good. Yes sir, prettygood. Just because he thought that when you voted for the Belt Citiesyou were on their side, he believed what you said. Hell, _I've_ votedon their side when it was the right thing to do. Haven't I now, Ed?Haven't I?"

  "Sure you have," said Tarnhorst with an easy smile. "So have a lot ofus."

  "Sure we have," Fergus repeated. His grin was huge. Then it changed toa frown. "I don't figure them sometimes. Those Belt people are crazy.Why wouldn't they give us the process for making that cable of theirs?Why?" He looked up at Tarnhorst with a genuinely puzzled look on hisface. "I mean, you'd think they thought that the laws of nature wereprivate property or something. They don't have the right outlook. Aman finds out something like that, he ought to give it to the humanrace, hadn't he, Edway? How come those Belt people want to keepsomething like that secret?"

  Edway Tarnhorst massaged the bridge of his nose with a thumb andforefinger, his eyes closed. "I don't know, Sam. I really don't know.Selfish, is all I can say."

  _Selfish?_ he thought. _Is it really selfish? Where is the dividingline? How much is a man entitled to keep secret, for his own benefit,and how much should he tell for the public?_

  He glanced again at the coat of ar
ms carved into the surface of thediamond. A thousand years ago, his ancestors had carved themselves atiny empire out of middle Europe--a few hundred acres, no more. Enoughto keep one family in luxury while the serfs had a bare existence.They had conquered by the sword and ruled by the sword. They had takenall and given nothing.

  But had they? The Barons of Tarnhorst had not really lived much betterthan their serfs had lived. More clothes and more food, perhaps, and afew baubles--diamonds and fine silks and warm furs. But no BaronTarnhorst had ever allowed his serfs to starve, for that would not beeconomically sound. And each Baron had been the dispenser of Justice;he had been Law in his land. Without him, there would have beenanarchy among the ignorant peasants, since they were certainly not fitto govern themselves a thousand years ago.

  Were they any better