ER NINE_

Ludwig Stutsman pressed his thin, straight lips together. "So that's the
setup," he said.

Across the desk Spencer Chambers studied the man. Stutsman was like a
wolf, lean and cruel and vicious. He even looked like a wolf, with his
long, thin face, his small, beady eyes, the thin, bloodless lips. But he
was the kind of man who didn't always wait for instructions, but went
ahead and used his own judgment. And in a ruthless sort of way, his
judgment was always right.

"Only as a last resort," cautioned Chambers, "do I want you to use the
extreme measures you are so fond of using. If they should prove
necessary, we can always use them. But not yet. I want to settle this
thing in the quietest way possible. Page and Manning are two men who
can't simply disappear. There'd be a hunt, an investigation, an ugly
situation."

"I understand," agreed Stutsman. "If something should happen to their
notes, if somebody could find them. Perhaps you. If you found them on
your desk one morning."

The two men measured one another with their eyes, more like enemies
than men working for the same ends.

"Not my desk," snapped Chambers, "Craven's. So that Craven could
discover this new energy. Whatever Craven discovers belongs to
Interplanetary."

Chambers rose from his chair and walked to the window, looked out. After
a moment's time, he turned and walked back again, sat down in his chair.
Leaning back, he matched his fingertips, his teeth flashing in a grin
under his mustache.

"I don't know anything about what's going on," he said. "I don't even
know someone has discovered material energy. That's up to Craven. He has
to find it. Both you and Craven work alone. I know nothing about either
of you."

Stutsman's jaw closed like a steel trap. "I've always worked alone."

"By the way," said Chambers, the edge suddenly off his voice, "how are
things going in the Jovian confederacy? I trust you left everything in
good shape."

"As good as could be expected," Stutsman replied. "The people are still
uneasy, half angry. They still remember Mallory."

"But Mallory," objected Chambers, "is on a prison ship. In near Mercury
now, I believe."

Stutsman shook his head. "They still remember him. We'll have trouble
out there one of these days."

"I would hate to have that happen," remarked Chambers softly. "I would
regret it very much. I sent you out there to see that nothing happened."

"The trouble out there won't be a flash