your stones," he said. "But whenever you do, I'll be
right behind you. And don't try to go to Aphrodite."

The lights went out. The giant Neptunian was at Grant's side. Grant
felt the leathery skin against his hand. They took him up and kicked
him out on the street.

Grant got dazedly to his feet. He had to see Netse the Jovian, quick.
Netse would exact a steep price as soon as he found out that Relegar
had threatened, but even one-third of the money would be better than
nothing. And he knew what it meant to be trailed by Relegar. No being
from any planet had ever come back sane from being hunted by Relegar.
Most of them didn't come back.

He stopped at the big jewelry house over on Curium Avenue. He saw that
it was now nearly one o'clock in the morning, and of course the
jewelry store was closed, but he knew that Netse seldom slept and that
the Jovian probably did more business at night than during the day. He
pressed the night button and waited.

The square of sidewalk dropped. Grant walked between X-ray scanners
and remembered to deposit his heat-gun. He was met by an Earthman who
took him up a long escalator. They went into a well-lighted room hung
with rich tapestries and golden drapes. The man escorted Grant to a
pedestal in the center of the room. The lights went out and it was
inky black.

Then suddenly there sprang into sight on the pedestal a transparent
dome the size of a small goldfish bowl. It was lighted by ultra-violet
from the bottom. In the center of the dome a small golden ball hung by
a platinum wire, and on the ball was a tiny butterfly--Netse the
Jovian. Netse's wings moved slowly as he walked around the ball, and
the violet light brought out the delicate green luminous tracery in
his wings. Grant involuntarily stepped back.

There were whistling words and Grant was aware that they came through
a speaker and amplification system. He knew the dome that protected
the Jovian was almost indestructible. "You wished to see me?" The
wings moved slowly back and forth. Each one had a purple spot in the
center like an eye.

Grant gulped. "Yes. I--I have something to show you. I need your
help." He wondered if the purple spots actually were eyes.

"Most people do," said Netse dryly.

Grant, inordinately ill at ease, fumbled in his watch-pocket. It was
incredible that this tiny butterfly that would hardly outweigh a
cigarette paper should have the brain to conduct a ramified business
such as this o