a minute and a half. Going to take more time than he had expected. Well....

* * * * *

There wasn't enough ice in the glass, and Leonard Kellogg put more in.
Then there was too much, and he added more brandy. He shouldn't have
started drinking this early, be drunk by dinnertime if he kept it up, but
what else was there to do? He couldn't go out, not with his face like
this. In any case, he wasn't sure he wanted to.

They were all down on him. Ernst Mallin, and Ruth Ortheris, and even Juan
Jimenez. At the constabulary post, Coombes and O'Brien had treated him
like an idiot child who has to be hushed in front of company and coming
back to Mallorysport they had ignored him completely. He drank quickly,
and then there was too much ice in the glass again. Victor Grego had told
him he'd better take a vacation till the trial was over, and put Mallin in
charge of the division. Said he oughtn't to be in charge while the
division was working on defense evidence. Well, maybe; it looked like the
first step toward shoving him completely out of the Company.

He dropped into a chair and lit a cigarette. It tasted badly, and after a
few puffs he crushed it out. Well, what else could he have done? After
they'd found that little grave, he had to make Gerd understand what it
would mean to the Company. Juan and Ruth had been all right, but Gerd--The
things Gerd had called him; the things he'd said about the Company. And
then that call from Holloway, and the humiliation of being ordered out
like a tramp.

And then that disgusting little beast had come pulling at his clothes, and
he had pushed it away--well, kicked it maybe--and it had struck at him
with the little spear it was carrying. Nobody but a lunatic would give a
thing like that to an animal anyhow. And he had kicked it again, and it
had screamed....

The communication screen in the next room was buzzing. Maybe that was
Victor. He gulped the brandy left in the glass and hurried to it.

It was Leslie Coombes, his face remotely expressionless.

"Oh, hello, Leslie."

"Good afternoon, Dr. Kellogg." The formality of address was studiously
rebuking. "The Chief Prosecutor just called me; Judge Pendarvis has denied
the _nolle prosequi_ he entered in your case and in Mr. Holloway's, and
ordered both cases to trial."

"You mean they're actually taking this seriously?"

"It is serious. If you're convicted, the Company's charter will be almost
automa