There was a long silence. Finally, unable to stand the suspense, Porsupah put a paw into the pouch under his belt to make sure . . . .

Orvenalix put a truhand over his mouth to cover the slight fluttering of mandibles that signified laughter among the thranx.

“All right,” the intelligence officer said. “Let us observe. Repler is backward in many ways, sure. It has a limited population, true. But its shuttle and spacecom facilities are modern and well-manned—very true. Major industries are tourism and exotic woods, but the main income is derived from Repler City’s use as a busy transfer point for interstellar shipping. It’s the only habitable planet between Fluva and Praxiteles as you drive down the Arm. And it’s still fairly close to the center-ward systems.”

“A good place to trade around,” agreed Porsupah.

“While also avoiding major tariffs on planets of destination. True. Nothing like the business Terra, Hivehom, or Drallar do, of course. But the merchants here make a good living, and business is growing steadily if not spectacularly.”

“I’ve read the manual,” Kitten said drily.

“Fine! Good!” Orvenalix reached into a drawer and removed a small vial of glass . . . no, quartz . . . with a pressure lock twice as big as the container, and a small bit of black board. Kitten and Porsupah slid their chairs closer.

Orvenalix keyed the lock and sprinkled, very carefully, a few grains of white crystal onto the board.

“Since you’ve both, presumably, ‘read the manual,’ perhaps you can tell me what this is?” Both junior officers leaned forward.

The Tolian sniffed once, gently. “Odorless. Clear, rhombohedric crystals with a glassy luster.” The Tolian crushed one of the largest pieces to powder in a sharp, trimmed claw. He sniffed again, careful not to inhale the dust. “Concoidal fracture, no odor released on pulverizing . . . yes, I think I know what it is, Major.” He turned and looked at Kitten. “The lines of fracture turn blue, they turn blue.”

Her eyes widened; and she couldn’t help but whisper when she spoke to Orvenalix. “Bloodhype. Very high grade, too, if the fracture line turns that dark.”

The antennae dipped slightly. “Almost pure. Also known as jaster, brain-up, phinto, silly-salt, and many other names the mere mention of which are sufficient to inspire thoughts of regurgitation among intelligent, feeling beings.”

“I thought I read that the Hyperion forests on Annubis were sterilized and wiped out ten years ago,” Kitten said.

“As indeed they were,” the intelligence officer continued. “Naturally, that was the first place the Service checked. We found nothing to indicate that any of the plants had survived the holocaust. At that time it was believed that the Hyperion plant could grow only on Annubis. Transplanting was attempted for scientific purposes, but the seedlings and mature plants died rapidly as soon as they were removed from the planet. Fertilized seeds likewise transshipped did not sprout. In wiping out the supply it turned out that the species had been effectively exterminated for all purposes!”