terest, were revealingly costumed
in pseudo-peplos of a purplish, cob-webby, silkish material. They wore
no blouses, but long sashes that passed behind the neck, crossed the
breasts and tied about the waist to hold up the short skirt. One of the
girls came up to get his order.
"I'm new on the planet," he smiled. "Let me have your best native light
wine."
She brought him a glass filled with a sparkling, golden liquid, and
waited while he took his first appreciative sip. "We call it 'Golden
Nectar'," she smiled.
He smacked his lips. "Wonderful!" Then, as she started away he called
her back. "Do you know a Mr. Panek? I was to meet him here, but I don't
see him."
Her eyes widened a bit at that name. "I'll see if I can locate him for
you, sir," and she moved away.
Some minutes later, while he was still pretending to sip his drink,
Hanlon felt a hearty clap on the shoulder.
"Well, well, it's my pal from the ship. Welcome to Sime, Pal, welcome to
Sime."
"Hi, Panek! Hope you meant that about looking you up, 'cause here I am."
Hanlon flipped a credit note on the bar and followed Panek. He was led
toward a back corner, but there, instead of going into one of the
booths, Panek pushed through an almost hidden alcove. He knocked
peculiarly on a door, and a peephole was opened. When the guardian saw
who it was, the door was opened enough so the two could slide through.
Hanlon, in a quick, comprehensive glance, saw that it was a fairly large
office, at present occupied by four men.
"This is George Hanlon," Panek introduced him, "the guy who did that job
on old Abrams, the same guy."
Hanlon noticed that Panek did not name the men there, but he could see
they appeared to know all about him, and were giving him a close
once-over. Hanlon scanned back in return, his mind quickly touching one
after another of the three sitting in large, easy chairs. Only their
surface thoughts were readable, and he knew at first touch they were but
underlings, the same as Panek. He read a favorable impression of
himself, but with reservations.
He turned his attention to the well-dressed, impressive-looking man
behind the plasticene desk, nor had his other probings taken more than a
few seconds. He noted with interest the round, smooth face, the slightly
over-large greenish eyes, the silver hair that seemed finer and silkier
than any Hanlon had ever seen on a human being. It was almost like fine
fur, he thought suddenly.
Then h
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