does that mean?"

"Your orders were to provide lodgings for the
Ambassador somewhere other than the official
guest house. I had no choice but to put him up at the
Condor. When I was informed of the time that you
agreed to see him, I went to the Condor to extend
the formal invitation. He wasn't there. I inquired
of the Condor's management and also among the
citizens present. Several recalled him because
of his unusual height, but no one, it seems, saw
him leave." Glancing toward Scarf, he added,
"I immediately requested your Chief of Internal
Security to put out search parties. That's where
it stands."

Narval turned to Scarf.

"Well?"

Scarf stiffened.

"We've searched the city, Mr. President," he said,
"and can't find a trace of him under the dome. But
we had several unexplained killings a short while
ago and I'm sure he's involved. Two of my agents
were gunned down on the street near air lock 43,
apparently without reason, and their bodies were
dumped down a utility access. Also, two of my
guards, on special detail inside the air lock were
killed. Add to that a communications blank-out
swamped the same area about that time, and a
space taxi is missing from the 43 ramp.

"We can't get a tracer on the taxi; its automatic
location signal is out, and it doesn't respond to
direct inquiry. All this, taken together, is very
suspicious, and leads me to conclude the Ambassador
skipped rather than meet with you."

Brad's eyes moved gravely from one speaker to the
other.

"Drummer." Narval turned back to him. "When you met
with Camari's Ambassador, what did you discuss?"

Drummer shrugged and stroked his chin.

"Just the routine chit-chat of protocol: small talk
about the inconveniences of long hops and living out
of traveling kits. Oh, yes, we expressed our hopes
for a better future when Slingshot cuts in. That
was about it."

"Then why would he leave so abruptly?"

"I have no idea, Mr. President."

"This incident does not please me, Drummer. A
special envoy arrives from the UIPS, obviously
carrying an important message to me from President
Camari. He leaves before he delivers the message,
with no advance notice. As he leaves he kills
several Plutonian citizens and steals property.
No, I don't like it at all, Drummer."

His fingernails drummed the desk. Suddenly
conscious of what he was doing, he stopped and
brought his hands close and inspected them for
damage.

"Drummer, draft a personal mes