in his chair and subjected his visitors to a moment of contemplation. “If I were to risk an offhand comment, I might say that neither of you fits the mold of the ordinary tourist — still, what other conceivable purpose could bring you to a somnolent backwater such as Krenke? You are truly something of a puzzle! My speculations, I hasten to say, are no more than whimsical fancy and in no way relevant to the Observer.”
Maloof reflected before responding. He said, rather ponderously, “You seem a sensitive man with an agile mind. Let me float another ‘whimsical fancy’, to the effect that we are, for a fact, pursuing a topic regarding which we need information, but only if the topic were totally isolated from any form of publicity.”
Farro leaned briskly forward. “Let us bring the matter into closer focus. I gather that you want me to supply information and thereafter keep the discussion hermetically secret. Is this correct?”
“Precisely so. If the reason for our presence became known, our function would be compromised.”
“Very well,” said Farro. “I agree to your conditions — unless your revelations are so dire and disastrous that I am forced to make them known.”
Maloof smiled grimly. “We bring news of neither disasters nor cataclysms. Shall I proceed?”
“Yes,” said Farro. “Proceed.”
“A year ago at Traven, on the world Morlock, I encountered a young man who called himself ‘Loy Tremaine’. He occupied himself charming old women and defrauding them of their wealth. He had a magnetic presence and carried himself with incredible arrogance. On his neck he wore a tattoo which we have identified as the Krenke insignia. During this time at Traven, he stated that he desperately wished to return to Fluter, but must make an adjustment with the Civil Agents. In the end he committed a murder and induced a wealthy widow to leave Morlock so that the two could pursue wonderful adventures among the far worlds. He had Fluter in mind. Two days ago the Glicca landed at the Coro-Coro spaceport. We discovered that Tremaine was once more resident on Fluter. We could not find him in Coro-Coro and theorized that he might have taken refuge in Krenke, which is why we are here.”
Farro shook his head. “Something is wrong. There have never been ‘Tremaines’ at Krenke. Perhaps you misread the tattoo.”
“Definitely not. It was seen and certified by an expert, who had altered it to a Coro-Coro sunburst.”
“In that case, there is no doubt about it. Your man is using a false name. What did he look like?”
Maloof gave a short harsh laugh. “Once seen, he can never be mistaken. He is tall and strong. He moves with dramatic pride, like a cavalier of old, dancing the shebardigan. Dark curls fall over his forehead; his eyes burn with black intensity, somewhat too close beside a lordly nose. He likes to act the rakehelly damn-your-eyes bravo and uses flamboyant gestures.”
“Hold!” cried Farro, his voice husky with excitement. “I know him; his name is Orlo Cavke! I can assure you that he is not at Krenke.”
“Why is that?”
“He would not dare show his face where it might be recognized. He committed abominable crimes, but escaped punishment. His deeds were sickening. He took three girls, one after the other, and led them by night up the Mellamy Steeps. It was a terrible time at Krenke, with every man looking askance at every other. The bodies were discovered by accident. Orlo Cavke had violated them in every conceivable manner, and perhaps in other ways not immediately conceivable. He had vented a mad rage upon these poor children, punishing them for the beauty which they had withheld from him for so long. He was captured at last and dragged back to the village in chains, but he escaped. It was learned that he had left Fluter. I am shocked to learn of his return!”
Maloof muttered: “This casts a new light upon Loy Tremaine.” He grunted. “I suppose that now we must call him ‘Orlo
Maloof reflected before responding. He said, rather ponderously, “You seem a sensitive man with an agile mind. Let me float another ‘whimsical fancy’, to the effect that we are, for a fact, pursuing a topic regarding which we need information, but only if the topic were totally isolated from any form of publicity.”
Farro leaned briskly forward. “Let us bring the matter into closer focus. I gather that you want me to supply information and thereafter keep the discussion hermetically secret. Is this correct?”
“Precisely so. If the reason for our presence became known, our function would be compromised.”
“Very well,” said Farro. “I agree to your conditions — unless your revelations are so dire and disastrous that I am forced to make them known.”
Maloof smiled grimly. “We bring news of neither disasters nor cataclysms. Shall I proceed?”
“Yes,” said Farro. “Proceed.”
“A year ago at Traven, on the world Morlock, I encountered a young man who called himself ‘Loy Tremaine’. He occupied himself charming old women and defrauding them of their wealth. He had a magnetic presence and carried himself with incredible arrogance. On his neck he wore a tattoo which we have identified as the Krenke insignia. During this time at Traven, he stated that he desperately wished to return to Fluter, but must make an adjustment with the Civil Agents. In the end he committed a murder and induced a wealthy widow to leave Morlock so that the two could pursue wonderful adventures among the far worlds. He had Fluter in mind. Two days ago the Glicca landed at the Coro-Coro spaceport. We discovered that Tremaine was once more resident on Fluter. We could not find him in Coro-Coro and theorized that he might have taken refuge in Krenke, which is why we are here.”
Farro shook his head. “Something is wrong. There have never been ‘Tremaines’ at Krenke. Perhaps you misread the tattoo.”
“Definitely not. It was seen and certified by an expert, who had altered it to a Coro-Coro sunburst.”
“In that case, there is no doubt about it. Your man is using a false name. What did he look like?”
Maloof gave a short harsh laugh. “Once seen, he can never be mistaken. He is tall and strong. He moves with dramatic pride, like a cavalier of old, dancing the shebardigan. Dark curls fall over his forehead; his eyes burn with black intensity, somewhat too close beside a lordly nose. He likes to act the rakehelly damn-your-eyes bravo and uses flamboyant gestures.”
“Hold!” cried Farro, his voice husky with excitement. “I know him; his name is Orlo Cavke! I can assure you that he is not at Krenke.”
“Why is that?”
“He would not dare show his face where it might be recognized. He committed abominable crimes, but escaped punishment. His deeds were sickening. He took three girls, one after the other, and led them by night up the Mellamy Steeps. It was a terrible time at Krenke, with every man looking askance at every other. The bodies were discovered by accident. Orlo Cavke had violated them in every conceivable manner, and perhaps in other ways not immediately conceivable. He had vented a mad rage upon these poor children, punishing them for the beauty which they had withheld from him for so long. He was captured at last and dragged back to the village in chains, but he escaped. It was learned that he had left Fluter. I am shocked to learn of his return!”
Maloof muttered: “This casts a new light upon Loy Tremaine.” He grunted. “I suppose that now we must call him ‘Orlo
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