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call attention to herself. Does that seem reasonable?”
    “It does, Ahmed.” He sighed. “But it is equally possible that the pair of you may be interested in creating a diversion.”
    Khelad looked startled. “What do you mean by that— sir?”
    “You work it out. Meanwhile, take a spell at the screens while I stretch my legs.”
    Khelad took over. Conrad got up from his chair, rubbed the back of his neck and yawned.
    After a time, Khelad said: “When will we be going through the air-lock, Commander?”
    “When Kwango has evaluated the lab reports and presented his findings… Tomorrow morning, I imagine.”
    “Do you have any theory about the rings, sir?”
    Conrad shrugged. “None worth mentioning… But Kwango will have. That black bastard is our very own self-appointed think-tank. His arrogance, fortunately for him, is backed up by a high I.Q.”
    Khelad seemed surprised. “I did not think you would have any racial prejudice.”
    “Oh, but I have. I don’t like Negroes, Arabs, Israelis, Americans, Russians. I don’t even much care for the British. I have a very strong racial prejudice. It is in favour of the human race. Remember that.”
    Suddenly, Khelad shouted. “Look!”
    Conrad whirled to face the screens. But he was too late.
    “What did you see?”
    “North camera. For a moment only. Range possibly two hundred metres. It was ape-like, humanoid—I don’t know. But it had a prehensile tail.’
    Conrad gazed intently at the screens, but saw only the robots working methodically on the perimeter fence. The sky was blue, the sun was low. In the distance there were a few birds.
    “How do you know it had a prehensile tail?”
    “Because it was arched over the creature’s head.” Khelad’s voice sounded almost hysterical. “Also, the tail seemed to have something like a hand on the end of it.”
    “It isn’t there now.”
    Khelad pulled himself together, and looked somewhat embarrassed. “No, Commander, it isn’t there now.”

 
    Phase Three
    THE KWANGO SCENARIO
     
    Conrad and Khelad watched the screens carefully while the light remained; but there was no further sign of the ape-like creature. If indeed it existed. Perhaps Khelad’s suspiciously brief sighting was itself a diversionary tactic.
    The robot Mark was ordered to set up a rotating searchlight, while Luke took over on the nav deck for the long and monotonous night watch.
    Conrad gave him precise instructions. “You will monitor all four screens. If any animal life-forms are revealed by the search-light you will simultaneously lock the light on target and record the sequence on videotape. If any such life-form is significantly large—defined as being at least one metre in height or one metre in length—you will signal my cabin. If any such life-form is observed in significant numbers—defined as any number greater than ten—you will signal general alarm. If Ahmed Khelad, Ruth Zonis or Lisa Uhlmann come to the navigation deck not escorted by me, or Lieutenant Smith or Kurt Kwango, you will also signal general alarm and you will restrain the intruder without injury until I arrive.”
    “Decisions noted, Commander. Execution proceeds.”
    That evening after dinner, Conrad asked Kwango to come to his cabin.
    “Well, Kurt, give me the news… Would you like a drink?”
    “It’s real kind of de Massa Boss to drink wid dis pore black sinner. I sure could use a drop of de white ladies’ ruin.”
    Conrad sighed. “Kurt, you really press your luck with this Uncle Tom stuff. One of these days, before I have time to realise I’m losing a good ecologist, I’ll spread your brains all over the bulkhead.”
    Kwango took his drink and was instantly apologetic. “Sorry, Commander. It’s stupid and I’m trying to kick it… High I.Q., low sense of humour… Compensation, or something like that.”
    “It figures,” said Conrad. He took a swig of his own whiskey. “Now get sensible.”
    “The news is nothing but good. Zonis and